Tag Archives: RV travel

A Day-to-Day Guide to the Alaska Highway

August 23, 2018 Rob Sims 4 Comments

How to Drive it in 6 Days at a Moderate Pace

So… you are thinking seriously about going after the Road Trip of a Lifetime… and maybe you are having anxiety issues thinking about all that could happen.

I’ve said this before: Yukon Do It!

When Kaye and I made our epic journey towing our 28-foot fifth wheel, we had our copy of Mileposts and our paper maps in the truck cab and referred to them constantly… and everything went just fine. We didn’t have any problems, going or coming.

fullsizeoutput_1034 — Our first camp north of the border was at Chilliwack, BC

But it would have been so much easier if we had had the piece I am writing for you right now — a daily guide that would connect the dots from Point A to Point B each day. Well here it is.

Before You Start.

First of all, make sure your vehicles are in good condition. Have a mechanic replace any worn belts or hoses and change the oil in your tow vehicle. Tires should be in like-new condition all the way around with a good spare on hand.

Take a supply of cash along with your credit cards which may or may not work at some road houses. There are ATM’s in a few spots along the way delivering Canadian currency, of course.

Get used to navigating without your cellphone. You are not likely to have service except in a few towns. Weak wifi can be found at a few RV parks so each night you can plot your map apps for the next day (GPS may work when wifi doesn’t).

Getting to Mile Zero

The official Alaska Highway begins at Dawson Creek in northern British Columbia. When we did it we had to drive 1,900 miles from Ventura, California and it took us 8 days. Just to get to the START of the Alcan. We stayed at Northern Lights RV Park on the hill west of the town of Dawson Creek.

fullsizeoutput_82a — The official start of the Alaska Highway, mile zero.

Day 1: Dawson Creek to Fort Nelson. 282 miles.

Stock up on provisions before leaving Dawson Creek; you won’t find another good market for several days.

Fill the tank, then drive your first 101 miles to the Esso at Wonowon, BC. Fill up again.

Drive 181 miles over easy hills and through forests on wide open highway to Fort Nelson. We chose the Triple G RV park for our overnight. The power grid ends at Fort Nelson.

fullsizeoutput_95d — We passed roadhouses that had been closed, some for a very long time.

Day 2: Fort Nelson to Coal River (or Watson Lake) 225 (or 319) miles

Fill up the tank and head uphill from Fort Nelson. You will be topping a high pass a couple of hours in; remember to engine brake – downshift to second gear – on the downgrades to save your brakes. This section takes awhile if you are towing a heavy rig; your speed will be down to 35 MPH on winding mountain roads.

At 118 miles stop at Toad River for fuel… and lunch if you want.

fullsizeoutput_345 — The restaurant at Toad River Lodge has 6,800 baseball caps on the ceiling!

Drive another 107 miles to Coal River Lodge, Muncho Lake BC, a lonely outpost in the wilderness. Basic services are available including diesel fuel and at the restaurant inside, their signature buffalo burger at a ridiculous price (everything north of Dawson Creek will be expensive). There is a bare bones campground with 20-amp electricity and a laundromat – all run from a generator onsite.

fullsizeoutput_547 — We had the campground to ourselves at Coal River Lodge for the night.

fullsizeoutput_33 — The pies and the buffalo burgers were all home cooked by Donna at Coal River Lodge.

We found friendly owners and had a great time at Coal River, but not everybody will like the spartan accommodations that haven’t been upgraded since the place was built in the 1940’s. If it is not to your liking, fuel up and head for the Downtown RV Park at Watson Lake another 101 miles.

Day 3: Coal River to White Horse, Yukon Territory. 359 miles

Fuel up. This is a more ambitious jaunt, with two stops. First drive 101 miles to Watson Lake (if you didn’t go there last night). Tour the Sign Forest in the middle of town and fuel up at the Tags station at the west end of town where there is a deli with deep fried delights and a little store. You will be criss-crossing the BC/YT border a couple of times today.

fullsizeoutput_171a — We added our sign to 70,000 others at the Sign Forest at Watson Lake, YT.

Drive on through the forests and hills to Teslin where you can fuel up again at the Yukon Motel & Restaurant (ATM) or Mesutlin Trading Post. Then on to White Horse and the Pioneer RV Park where you might get wifi.

If you have any mechanical issues, you might find help in White Horse.

Alaska Mountains edit 0042 — The road mostly follows the valleys between the mountains and is a relatively easy drive.

Day 4: White Horse to White River. 249 miles

Fuel up and head west to Haines Junction. We experienced some awful roads and construction in this section, but maybe it is all fixed by now.

Fuel up again and continue to White River and the Yukon Lodgings Campground which is easy to miss on the left after a bend in the road in the middle of nowhere. There is no town (keep an eye on your mileage and watch for it). If you come out of the woods and cross a river and come to Beaver Creek, you just passed it; maybe just stay at Beaver Creek where there is a motel and an almost RV park. Basically a parking lot.

fullsizeoutput_178c — There is no end of beautiful scenery along the Alaska Highway.

Day 5: White River YT to Delta Junction AK. 249 miles

Fuel up at Beaver Creek, then head across the U.S. border and at 142 miles stop at Tok. Fuel up at Chevron or Shell or Tesoro.

Head west to Delta Junction another 107 miles and maybe camp at the Alaska RV Ranch.

Congratulation! You have just completed the official Alaska Highway, approximately 1,365 miles!

However, you are still in the middle of nowhere. So…

Day 6: Delta Junction to Denali National Park. 244 miles (through Fairbanks AK)

If you go southwest through Anchorage, add another 100 or so miles.

fullsizeoutput_509f — The Alaska Range escorts you toward Fairbanks. You don’t have to drive over those mountains.

At Fairbanks or Anchorage, stock up on provisions at the Fred Meyer store, because everything at Glitter Gulch (the tourist village a mile from the entrance of Denali National Park) will cost at least TWICE the price and many items will not be available at all!

Congrats again, and check this off your bucket list! You have covered the Alaska Highway – and beyond, a distance of 1,580 miles (by way of Fairbanks).

fullsizeoutput_a34 — Two dozen shops, outfitters and eateries line the boardwalk at “Glitter Gulch”.

We stayed at Rainbow Village RV Park behind the row of log cabin shops on the east side of the highway in Glitter Gulch (affectionately called “the Canyon” by the locals). It is not actually an incorporated municipality so your map app won’t find it. Try searching for Healy, a small town north of the Canyon a few miles, or try Denali National Park; you’ll only be off by a mile.

We stayed about six weeks, hiking and biking around the area and venturing into Denali National Park for hiking and sightseeing. Then we took 11 days to make the return trip down to Lincoln Nebraska, then home to Michigan a few days later. We covered about 7,500 miles over all.

Now you only have to make it back down!

So are you going to do it?

I would love to know what you are thinking. Let me know in the comments below.

Denali edit _0006 — Denali – the mountain – is still 90 miles away. Take the park bus for a closer look.

Disclaimer: Though I have done my best to update and verify this information since our own trip, things can change from season to season along the Alaska Highway. (We found that even the Mileposts resource was inaccurate at a couple of points.) You are responsible for your safety and accommodations on this road trip of a lifetime!

Have fun!

Life's A Trip!

Life’s a Trip – Even When You Stay Put

March 16, 2017 Rob Sims 1 Comment

This is the third in the Life’s a Trip series.

Life can be an amazing journey even when you are stationary for long periods of time. Some folks are happy to put down roots in one place and never be curious about the distant horizon. Adventure seems frightening and inconvenient. As Bilbo Baggins says in Lord of the Rings, “We have no use for adventures – nasty disturbing uncomfortable things; make you late for dinner.”

And that’s fine. If you don’t have a desire to see the world, don’t let me or anyone else prod you into far-flung unpleasantries.

But then there are people like me.

Though I lived for 43 years in one secluded rural retreat, my routine was punctuated by adventure. Whether heading up north to camp in the woods, down south to crawl around in the caves, out west to hike in the mountains, or over the ocean to an island hideaway, I couldn’t sit still for long.

So the last few years Kaye and I have been pioneering with an RV, living on the road, always peering around the next bend to get a glimpse of what we haven’t seen before. And it has been fun.

But right now, my travel quotient is satisfied. I am ready for a break. We have visited 49 of 50 states and are not making plans to visit Hawaii. At least not for now and maybe never.

But I think I am ready for a different kind of adventure.

While taking a breather from travel and staying in a small apartment for the past several months, we have plugged into the local scene and gone after other stuff that we like to do. We didn’t get enough of hosting foreign exchange students in our home when our kids were in high school years ago, so we have had a lingering desire to work with international students again.

We started volunteering at the local campus of the University of Michigan and helping internationals to improve their conversational English and learn more of American culture.

And we really came alive.

When we discovered that a historical house was on the market only a 10-minute walk from the campus, we jumped (carefully) at the chance to buy it, and today we signed the papers.

We are going to stay put for awhile and pursue our own brand of urban homesteading. Pioneering without wheels, as it were.

The House

Our “new” house is 117 years old and already set up for urban homesteading in the inner city. There are rain barrels at the four corner downspouts, raspberries along the fence, an herb garden where the front lawn used to be. The climbing roses have been growing on the front fence since the 1920’s. There is a storeroom in the cellar for stockpiling canned goods and drinking water. Cool.

For a long time I have wanted to experiment with solar power; this house has a southern exposure that will accommodate my future solar panels. We might start composting too, just like my grandmother did back in the day, feeding those tomatoes that will grow in containers along the back wall.

It seems that urban homesteading is essentially a return to the way our ancestors lived a hundred years ago but updated with a lot of modern technology.

Owning property again – on a much smaller scale than before – does not mean we won’t travel anymore. We still have the fifth wheel so when the travel bug bites we can answer the call of the wild.

Stay tuned for reports on our latest pioneering adventure, a trip back in time, as it were, in the historical district of Flint, Michigan, in the center of the university neighborhood. Just around the corner is the Durant-Dort Office building where General Motors Corp (GMC) was founded in 1908!

It looks as though what’s next for us going forward, is a trip backward in time!

The vintage house presides over a quiet historical neighborhood.

Read Kaye’s spin on this new venture at her blog.

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.

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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

3 Mountain Roads that Scared the Snot out of Me

November 2, 2016 Rob Sims 1 Comment

This is the 6th in a series on my Southwestern Photo Safari.

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I didn’t really know what I was in for when I planned my route across southern Utah. I actually thought I had prepared pretty well, but the maps don’t even come close to conveying the extremes of these roads that cut through deep canyons and alternately wind across high ridges with drop-offs on both sides. I watched lots of YouTube videos of other travelers’ adventures and still wasn’t able to grasp the scope of what lay ahead of me.
It’s probably a good thing, or I might have lost my nerve. As it turned out, it seemed that my itinerary alternated between scary drives one day and scary hikes the next.

This is about three of the most adventurous drives I encountered on my photo safari to southern Utah.

The Hogback on Highway 12

I ended up driving this road twice since my side trip to Capitol Reef National Park was an out-and-back overnight trip from Escalante rather than a loop route.

Highway 12 cuts across ancient sandstone benches called slick rock.

Highway 12 east of the town of Escalante is a study in extremes. Much of the route east and then north to Torrey is across bare stone landscape called slick rock. It’s not actually slippery, since it is sandstone; its surface is more like sand paper.

The road drops into the Escalante Canyon and heads north up the other side. — The road descends into the Escalante Canyon and heads north up the other side.

The route drops down into the canyon to cross the Escalante river and then climbs as quickly up the other side to traverse the Hogback where the drop-off is 600 feet on both sides of the road!

The Hogback winds along the ridge with drops on both side. — The Hogback winds along the ridge with steep drop-offs on both sides.

A view into the canyon on the west side of the Hogback.

There are a couple of turn-outs where I was able to stop for some photos and video, but most of the high section is narrow and winding with no shoulders or guardrails. It’s not for the faint of heart.

(My video gives a much better idea of what the Hogback is really like; I have posted the link to it at the bottom of the post.)

The Shafer Trail

This is one of the most extreme roads in America, and should not be attempted by anybody with acrophobia – a true fear of heights. Mostly Jeeps and SUV’s travel the gravel road because the hairpin turns are tight and will not accommodate long vehicles. Would-be adventurers with trailers and motorhomes should absolutely stay away. Just park your RV in Moab, rent a Jeep from one of several outfitters, then head out here for the drive of your life!

The Shafer Trail connects the Island In the Sky district of Canyonlands National Park with the White Rim plateau as it drops more than 1000 feet in about 2 miles of steep switchbacks and hairpin turns.

Of course, there is no room for guardrails on these steep cliffs and shoulders are non-existent. One wrong move and it’s a tremendous tumble to the pearly gates!

(Go to my 26-second video of this road at the bottom of the page.)

The White Rim Road

This tortuous trail follows a 100-mile-long route through the Canyonlands National Park on what could be considered the middle level of the park, as it were. The lower level would be the Colorado and Green Rivers, and the top level would be the high mesa called Island in the Sky. Most tourists only get to visit the upper level, but they are able to peer down 2200 feet into the canyons on three sides of Island in the Sky.

The road traverses gullies and gorges on its way to the White Rim. — I came in on Potash Road which traverses gullies and gorges on its way to the White Rim.

The White Rim Road requires high clearance and four wheel drive. Unless you are peddling it; mountain bikers take 4 to 5 days to travel the route, camping in campgrounds at night. Jeepsters usually take 2 days or more to cover the 100-mile loop because they are in low gear much of the time, only barely staying ahead of the bikers.

The road follows the edge of the White Rim which is 1000 feet above the Colorado River. The drop-offs are impressive.

My day-trip on the White Rim was an out-and-back from Moab, Utah, via Potash Road as an alternative to the Shafer Trail. I only ventured about 25 miles out as far as Musselman Arch, and then back, and it took all day because of the grueling conditions. Stones, gravel, bare rock, steep grades up and down, dry and wet creek beds; at one point I drove up a dry wash for some distance, secure in the knowledge that no rain was in the forecast and no flash flood would be forthcoming.

I drove up a dry wash for a while, between cliffs of red rock.

The views from the edge of the Rim are absolutely incredible! The road travels on the cusp of the drop-off for several miles in some places. Of course, the road is only one lane, which means when you meet another vehicle, somebody has to back up to the last turn-out so they can pass each other. That encounter happened to me three times on a particularly dangerous stretch on the ledge!

Most adventurers take the 100-mile loop and only have to drive it once, but since my trip was an out-and-back, I got to see it twice. That meant twice the white-knuckle fun on the White Rim Road.

On one of the most scary mountain sections, I stuck a video camera to my windsheild with a suction cup mount and captured 11-1/2 minutes of stomach-churning adventure. I have posted the clip on YouTube so the whole world can view it.

I finally made it back to Moab by nightfall and drove straight to the car wash to reward my truck for its faithful performance on the awful trail, then I headed across the street to the Moab Brewery to reward myself for my awesome off-road driving on America’s second most radical road.

If you ever plan to drive this challenging road, I suggest you view this video so you will know what you are in for. Full screen mode will give you the greatest gasp-per-mile factor (bottom of the list below).

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View the 35-second video: A Drive on the Edge – the Hogback on Highway 12

View the 26-second video: Driven to the Edge – The Shafer Trail

View the 11-1/2 minute video : A White-Knuckle Drive on the White Rim Road. Click Full Screen for the best scare. If you are afraid of heights, maybe take a Xanax first!

Thank you for coming along!

Find the other posts in this series in the left sidebar or go to Posts By Destination and click Southwestern Safari.

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.

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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!

Southwestern Safari

Bryce Canyon is Hoodoo Central

October 7, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Side Roads

Travel: The (Almost) Impossible Dream

May 11, 2016 Rob Sims 2 Comments

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.

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!

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

Not Wasting Away Again

January 25, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 1-25-16 -at a VRBO in the Dominican Republic

Our list of reasons to leave the northern winters is a short list for good reason. Who needs more than a couple of good reasons to leave misery behind?

Physical well-being. For many of us it goes beyond the discomfort of a chill running down your spine when the north wind blows. The lack of sunshine and the short days in Michigan in the wintertime have a noticeable debilitating effect on human beings that becomes even more bothersome as they age. Joint aches, muscle pain, and an overall lethargy that makes you want to go to bed right after supper all combine to make life dark and depressing. Not to mention that if you do actually venture outside for a walk or a trip to the store, you may well slip on the ice, split your head open and end up at the hospital for stitches. Winter is actually life-threatening for highway travelers, as indicated by traffic death statistics for the winter months. Every snow storm ends up being the last one for some unfortunate travelers as their car slides off the road and hits a tree.
Emotional well-being. There is a reason why February is the month when the most suicides take place, and I am sure the long winter’s night of the soul has something to do with it. Cabin fever may sound entirely benign until it goes beyond restlessness and brings on bona fide depression and a sense of hopelessness. A feeling of being trapped in a dark place is not a healthful mental state for the human soul. There is a sense that you are wasting away while hunkering in a human hibernation mode until spring.
Financial well-being. Winter can be expensive when you are paying to heat the house. You end up caught in a mental and emotional tug-of-war as you shiver while the thermostat is pinned at 65 degrees to save money. 75 would be a lot more comfortable, but the utility bills will rise exponentially. And the lights are on longer as the days are shorter, so the electric bill takes off as well. Instead of being out in the yard in the evening, you are sitting in front of the TV… and consuming even more electricity. And that means more popcorn and potato chips.
That’s enough. Who needs more than 3 reasons to head south in the winter? Is self-preservation not enough?

(Note: I realize that I am not speaking for winter sports enthusiasts. Go out and sled, ski and skate while you are young, and have fun.)

So What Do You Do With Yourself?

Having escaped the northern winters and living as the proverbial snowbirds, we have been asked this question a few times. Those who have not retired yet wonder the same thing. What do we do to occupy our time?

It is a question that no one can answer for you, because the answer rests entirely on your personality and interests and physical state. If you can’t think of something to do, maybe you shouldn’t retire. A former co-worker of mine is still teaching school in his 70’s because he can’t imagine what he will do with time on his hands. He says he will die teaching – and I believe him.

Lots of folks will move to retirement communities that surround golf courses or marinas. That is perfect if you love golf or boats.

For Kaye and me, having open spaces for walking and biking is important. We hope to stay physically active as long as we possibly can.

As a photographer, I seldom land in a place that is without visual opportunity. When it does happen, I have always been able to find something within a short drive.

Fruit Market edit w quad.jpg — A short drive on the quad took me past this colorful farm market on the way to the beach.

As a musician, I have been a little bit more frustrated as my piano is heavy and not very mobile and presents certain logistical challenges. Still, I have found ways to express my musical self in almost every place we have stayed. A couple of years ago I found a fellow musician who had set up a recording studio in a tent next to his motor home in a campground in Alabama. We collaberated on a song or two. Cool.

Escaping to Margaritaville

This winter we flew to the tropics where we are renting a vacation house near the beach in a small fishing village. Our daily walks consist of sauntering downtown to the French bakery for a croissant or a pizza, or a short walk in the other direction to one of several palm-lined beaches. A swim in the ocean is always available – and the water is 80 degrees.

A twilight stroll on the beach can be good medicine for the soul — A twilight stroll on the beach can be good medicine for both body and soul

In the apartment, we are able to stream movies to our laptops while lying on the bed or chatting with the kids and grandkids back home through social media or FaceTime. We read books that we download for Kindle. We journal about our adventures. Kaye and I are both actually writing books this winter.

Adaptation is necessary for a successful migration in the wintertime, but every new place offers its own smorgasbord of opportunities.

If boredom sets in, we look for ways to change things up a bit.

And remind ourselves that at least we are not shivering in the northern snow and wondering how we will stay warm if the power goes off during a winter storm.

If we have a worry here it has more to do with blowing out a flip flop or stepping on a pop top. We are not wasting away this winter.*

And just so you know, we are not on vacation either. For us, this is life.

I wonder if these guys will sell me that frozen concoction that helps me hang on.*

___________________________________________________

*Lyrics from Jimmy Buffet’s song, Margaritaville.

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

Collecting Lighthouses

December 16, 2015 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 12-16-15 Rockford, Michigan

There is something innately alluring about lighthouses. Maybe it is the unique architecture and ingenious engineering of these old towers – or the attraction of the seashore lifestyle, but just about everybody loves them. Some folks love them so much that they “collect” lighthouses. That is, they make intentional trips just to connect the dots, as it were, traveling from one light to the next in a quest to see how many they can visit.

Big Sable Point edit _0018 — People don’t visit the Big Sable Point Lighthouse by accident; it is at the end of a 1.8-mile hike through the sand dunes at Ludington State Park.

At various times in our lives, Kaye and I have been “collectors” as well. Living in Michigan, it’s not a difficult thing to do, since the Great Lakes are lined with scores of these beautiful old structures. Anyone who travels along the lakeshore will sooner or later spot the next one, and if their timing is right, they may get to climb the tower or tour a historic light keeper’s house.

Locals often gather at the shore to enjoy the evening sunset at Point Betsie Lighthouse near Frankfort, Michigan.

Fortunately, lighthouse tours are becoming more common as the state and federal governments turn over more and more of the old properties to preservationist groups who take over the maintenance and open them up to the public for tours.

Little Sable Point lighthouse wcaption edit.jpg — The Sable Points Lighthouse Keepers Association (SPLKA) is raising funds to rebuild the keepers’ house from the ground up at Little Sable Point Lighthouse, Mears, MI.

White River Light Station wcaption.jpg — White River Light Station at Pentwater, Michigan, is now a museum; the curator lives in the upstairs of the original keeper’s house.

Lighthouses are designed to be visible, and it’s fun to notice the differences from one to the next. The original day mark – appearance by daylight – had be distinctive so that ship captains would not confuse them with neighboring installations. This makes for a plethora of beautiful designs from stripes to contrasting colors.

Holland Lighthouse 020.jpg — The day mark at the Holland, Michigan, lighthouse is a highly visible solid red paint.

The night mark – or characteristic – of the lights at night had to be distinctive as well, so they were varied by colors: white, red, and green, and also by duration: flashing or solid.

Pointe aux Barques Light lom 041 — The Point Aux Barques lighthouse near Port Austin, Michigan, has a flashing white light separated by intervals of 20 seconds and 4.8 seconds. There are two beacons aimed in different directions on a rotating turntable to deliver this effect.

Most of the still operating lights are owned by the Coast Guard, but only the actual lamps and lenses in the towers. The properties and structures are now leased and operated by maritime history lovers. There are several at which you may volunteer and help with the preservation.

Kaye and I spent two weeks at the Big Sable Point Lighthouse near Ludington, Michigan, staying in the keeper’s house and running the gift shop and museum every day with five other volunteers.

Big Sable leaf blower — I used a leaf blower to clear the sand off the boardwalks every day.

Big Sable tower guy — Answering visitors’ questions was part of the job at the top of the tower.

Lighthouses are fascinating structures, and there are loads of folks who are living under the spell, chasing along the seashores and lakeshores of America from one light to the next.

Are you following the wandering shoreline to see the next tower around the bend? It is a lot of fun. And those who live in the Great Lakes state are especially blessed to be in such close proximity to so many great landmarks.

Here are a few more photos of lighthouses we have “collected” over the years:

St. Augustine Light lomo — The day mark at St. Augustine, Florida, is a black and white spiral. Cool.

Fort Jefferson and lighthouse — The lighthouse at Fort Jefferson, Dry Tortugas, Florida, is perched on the top of the brick walls of the massive old fort.

Grand Haven Lighthouses wcaption.jpg — The Grand Haven, Michigan, lights are lined up on a long pier that extends almost a quarter mile from shore.

Grand Haven lighthouse in a storm — When the gales of November come howling across Lake Michigan, hundreds of people gather at the shore to watch the gigantic waves crash over the 36-foot-high pierhead lighthouse.

S. Manitou Island Lighthouse 400.jpg — Many lighthouses are on islands, like this beauty on South Manitou Island in Lake Michigan at Leland, Michigan. It is reached by a 1-1/2 hour boat ride.

I have produced a calendar with 13 high-definition images of Michigan lighthouses, but the 2016 Michigan Lighthouses calendar is sold out. I will be collecting more great lighthouse photos during 2017 and will offer a new edition of the calendar later in the year. I will post a notice when it is ready.

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

First Week at the Lighthouse

September 29, 2015 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 9-15-15 Big Sable Point Lighthouse, Ludington, Michigan

Kaye posted a daily journal of our first few days of volunteering at the Big Sable Point Lighthouse:

Day One – Tuesday, 9-15-15

We arrived last evening and met our team members. The place is so beautiful. It’s hard to imagine we have this amazing opportunity. And so it begins.
There is WiFi at the lighthouse!!! Wahoo!!! I am downright happy about that.
After a brief demonstration from one of the other volunteers, I worked the video room most of the morning, re-stocked the cooler, gave tours of the keepers’ quarters to some possible volunteer recruits, shadowed someone closing out cash register, learned to open safe. Bob worked in the tower and at various other jobs.
I am on a steep learning curve! Lots we need to know to be lighthouse keepers. Glad we don’t have to haul oil up the tower to light the lamp. Also thankful for a great team to work with and to learn from.
Exhausted. Feet hurt…

Day Two – Wednesday, 9-16-15

From our bedroom window, we saw the Badger leaving the harbor on its way back across Lake Michigan to Manitowac, Wisconsin.
I learned a bit about running the cash register.

Day Three – Thursday, 9-17-15

Field trip!!! Craziness.
Somehow Bob and I ended up having the place to ourselves for the evening. The whole freakin’ lighthouse and the whole dang beach. How bizarre! Wonderfully peaceful and quiet after having those students here all day. Well, quiet except for the wild wind and pounding surf.

Day Four – Friday, 9-18-15

Our day off – so we visited the new grand-daughter who is one week old today.
Stopped at the famous House of Flavors for supper. Fish is excellent.

Day Five – Saturday, 9-19-15

Busy day. I worked the video room all morning, the cash register in the afternoon, and then back to the video room.

Day Six – Sunday, 9-20-15

What an awesome view. Nine miles to the south, the Badger is heading out of the harbor and across the lake passing a row of seven sparkling white sailboats as a speed boat zips by all of them. Several fishing boats are spread across the horizon as well.
Lots of interesting and inquisitive visitors came inside and still more lounged outside. On a quick afternoon break upstairs, I glanced out windows to the scene below. Families were sitting and/or playing in clusters on the beach. People strolled along the boardwalks and hiked into the surrounding dunes. So lovely.
One of my online writing friends came to visit today. It was our first chance to meet face-to-face after corresponding for three years. Fun times. Actually all of us on the team had friends or family visit this evening.

Day Seven – Monday, 9-21-15

Another gorgeous morning – in a long string of beautiful weather. We sure picked the right time of year to be here!
An interesting day. First visitors were from London, UK, and later some from Winnipeg, Manitoba. Then a keeper from Passage Island and Rock of Ages in Lake Superior. What fun to chat with him.
It was 2 o’clock before I even knew it – and before I had chance for a break.
I feel like I’m beginning to understand the process of closing out the cash register. We were one penny off.
State park ranger, fire and rescue paramedics, and ambulance all showed up in our yard responding to a medical emergency call during the evening. Turns out all is well.
Finished out our first week with a campfire out on the dunes.

(Click on photo to view in full screen mode.)

Read more of Kaye’s accounts at her blog, Wondering Journey.

Side Roads

Michigan Renaissance Festival – A Step Back in Time

August 30, 2015 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 8-30-15 The ultimate summer festival

The RenFest at Holly, Michigan, runs on weekends from late August to Early October each year. I visited on a Saturday and found it uncrowded and in tip-top form. The re-enactors and vendors and visitors all seemed to be in a good mood and ready for some fun. This being my first visit – and photographs being my top priority – I chose not to go in costume. Of course, there were plenty of costume shops open, so I could have rented or purchased a tunic and a sword. Maybe next time.

Here’s a photo line-up of this colorful historical attraction. (Click on any photo to view it in full screen mode.)

Whenever I return to the Michigan Renaissance Festival, I have decided that a sword is a nice thing to have, but I am going to avoid a kilt. That’s just me. Do what you want. It’s all good. And it’s all a lot of fun.

And don’t miss the traditional turkey drumstick for lunch. It’s actually slow-smoked and tasty.

And then there is the ubiquitous dill pickle right out of the barrel.

Hmm… so much to savor and so few summer days left.

Here is the link to the RenFest website. Have fun!

Side Roads

M-22, A Redliner’s Delight

August 15, 2015 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 8-17-15 Empire, Michigan

My road atlas shows the secondary roads in red. Those are the narrow two-lane county blacktops that pre-date the expressways and the superhighways. And it is where the historical sites and nostalgic gems are still found.

M-22 is a redliner’s treasure, as it winds through mature forests and over sand dunes, outlining the Leelenau Peninsula, Michigan’s virtual “pinkie” finger as it were, the lower peninsula being shaped like a mitten. It is punctuated by 150-year-old lighthouses and roadside farm markets offering sweet black cherries and other organic delicacies.

M-109 is a road trip within a road trip, a side spur from M-22 that skirts the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.

A side spur from this rural delight is another gem, M-109, which winds lazily through the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, an expansive park that is managed by the National Park Service. It is the home of a well-preserved ghost town. Glen Haven is an old fishing village with a historic inn, general store, blacksmith shop, fishing cannary and other buildings.

M-109 heads off through the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.

The National Lakeshore is a wonderland of perched sand dunes, thick forests, abandoned farms and old vacation homes. The shorelines are gorgeous. If there is magic where land and water meet, then this peninsula is entirely enchanted. Shifting sand dunes rise more than 450 above the turquoise waters of Lake Michigan.

Nature lovers and adventurers experience a rush of enthusiasm for a plethora of hiking trails, bike paths, scenic drives and beaches.

Here is a line-up of photos I captured while on a recent visit to the area:

Perched sand dunes loom over the beaches along the Leelenau Peninsula.

The scenic overlook provides a gander at Lake Michigan and the distant South and North Manitou Islands, also part of the National Lakeshore. — The scenic overlook at Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive provides a gander at Lake Michigan and the distant South and North Manitou Islands, also part of the National Lakeshore and desirable backcountry camping (backpacking) destinations.

Visitors see the lake from 450 feet above the water.

Sleeping Bear N. Bar Lk view — The view of the Empire Bluffs from an overlook on the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive includes North Bar Lake in the foreground.

The Dune Climb is one of the most popular hikes in the park.

The Platte River is perfect for kayaking, canoeing, paddle boarding and the like. — The Platte River is perfect for kayaking, canoeing, paddle boarding and tubing.

Rock collectors on the beach — Lapidaries and rock collectors search for mineral specimens and fossils like the Petoskey Stone, Michigan’s state stone.

Sleeping Bear N. Bar Lk edit — Families with kids love the warm waters of North Bar Lake which is separated from Lake Michigan by a narrow sand bar.

Paddle Boarding Lake Michigan — Water sports enthusiasts find plenty of opportunity on Lake Michigan and several inland lakes.

Glen Haven is a ghost town, nicely preserved by park service historians. — The port town of Glen Haven is now a ghost town, nicely preserved by park service historians.

The Sleeping Bear Inn ran for more than a century until 1972. — The Sleeping Bear Inn ran for more than a century until closing in 1972.

The fish cannary still stands at the water's edge in the historic port town. — The fish cannary still stands at the water’s edge in the historic port town.

Glen Arbor is alive with tourism during the summer... and dead the rest of the year. — Art’s Tavern in Glen Arbor is entirely decorated with school pennants on the walls and ceilings.

Patio at Art's Tavern, Glen Arbor — Glen Arbor is alive with tourism during the summer… and pretty much dead the rest of the year.

Beach walkers are not disappointed along the many miles of beautiful beaches flanked by dunes. — Beach walkers are not disappointed along the many miles of beautiful beaches flanked by dunes and surf.

Sunset at Sleeping Bear Point — This is a land of million dollar sunsets and folks show up all along the shore to enjoy the show across the dunes and Lake Michigan at sundown.

Point Betsie Lighthouse is near the south end of M-22 not far from the port of Frankfort, Michigan.

Being over 50 miles from the nearest freeway, M-22 is not on the way to anywhere… except adventure and natural splendor.

My travel tip: If you can, avoid the crowds of the later summer and visit the area in September when the parks are nearly empty and you have your pick of campsites – or cabins. The lakes are still relatively warm and accommodating for water sports like kayaking, paddle boarding and swimming.

After that, the maple forests light up with the vivid yellows, reds, and oranges of autumn.

And after that, it gets nasty out here when the gales of November start whipping off of Lake Michigan and the early snows set in.

Rapere Aestate! (Seize the Summer!)