Eating Out in Spain

The first restaurant we went into had pig legs hanging from the ceiling. Suspended by a hoof on a hook, the legs hung down over the bar and tables. No one was splattered by juicy pork drippings because each thigh had a snowcone like object piercing its end to catch rogue juice. Flies enjoyed the outer layer of leg and servers carved pieces for patrons with a special contraption designed to hold the hoof steady as the meat was sliced off.

Our eating experiences in Spain and a visit to an exhibit on the Spanish Inquisition led my husband to muse, "You can't be a protestant vegan in Spain." Pig legs on the ceiling were the norm throughout the north of spain and a vegetal sandwich consists of mayo, tuna, eggs and possibly a pepper. Seafood is delicious served with eyeballs, bones and the octipi have all eight legs. Sausages are unrivaled and cheeses are excellent. Vegetables are well disguised and visiting vegans would even have to pass up the delicious chocolates and croissants offered up from bakeries throughout the north of Spain.

Curiously we never saw a live pig on our journey throughout the country. We saw hundreds of their disembodied legs, but not a single grunting sow. And if you were wondering... chickens, ducks, horses, cows and sheep were plentiful.

Minor League Baseball on the Oregon Trail

Casper, Wyoming is surrounded by vast space. Going east to west in the United States I think that is the first thing you notice. The whole concept of geographic and human space changes. I drove for two hours from Cheyenne, Wyoming to Casper in a rental car- on the drive I didn’t see one other town or cluster of homes between cities. Instead I saw vast prairie with drift blockers placed like giant post and rail fences. They stood like sentinels to stop windswept snow from obliterating the road. The intersection of prairie and sky was uninterrupted by trees, homes, or other roads. The isolation is inspiring and intense.

I arrived in Casper, checked into my hotel and was suprised with a complimentary pass to that evening’s Casper Rockies minor league baseball game. I was able to walk over to the Mike Lansing Field, buy a soft pretzel and find a seat in the stands. The game was fantastic! What a way to get to know the community of Casper. Families swarmed the stands and cheered for the mascot: Hobart the Platypus. Kids begged for pictures with the purple creature. Incidentally he is named for the capital of Tasmania, the indigenous home of the animal. The Rockies embrace the Platypus because their field is located on the banks of the North Platte River. Over the course of the game I met a few families eager to share the Rockies record, their favorite players and some of Wyoming’s fun facts with me. Here are the city’s vital statistics that the families shared with me between innings:

Casper is the capital city of Wyoming. It is the second biggest city in the state with about 51,000 people—Cheyenne is the largest city in Wyoming with 53,000 people.
Wyoming is the second most sparsely populated state in the US- only Alaska is more sparsely populated.
Casper is at the intersection of the Oregon, California, and Mormon trails. All of these trails were used by westward land seekers in the mid 1800’s.
So, if you go--stay at the Holiday Inn when there’s a home game. Buy a pretzel, talk to your seatmates, and bring a windbreaker- it gets cold when the sun goes down. Sing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” with your new friends and watch the sun set over the game. Enjoy your visit to Casper, Wyoming. I’ll never forget mine.

Searching for Batman in Austin

A coworker and I were sent on a whirlwind trip from Philadelphia to Austin, Texas and back in just about 24 hours. We had work to accomplish and people to meet but we found a few extra minutes to ride the bus to downtown Austin, headed toward some yummy seafood and some of the live music Austin is known for. On the way we just happened to discover that Austin, Texas has the "largest urban bat population in the world". The 1.5 million bats that live under Congress Bridge in Austin emerge each evening at dusk. They move together downriver in search of a mosquito meal. Throughout the summer they predictably emerge together from their homes under the bridge and are an astounding site.

On our way downtown for dinner the city bus just happened to take us over Congress Bridge. As we crossed the bridge we saw people crowding the banks of the river, filling "bat cruise boats" and others lining the edges of the bridge. Finally at the site of a souvenir stand I stood and pulled the bus stop cord knowing that this was a site not to be missed.

We ran to the bridge and ....waited. We waited..waited...waited. One young boy, with his grandmother, was excitedly creating stories about what would happen when the bats appeared. "Grandma, what if....one of the bats comes out of the holes under the bridge... and he's THIS BIG (little arms outstretched)and what if he comes up over the bridge, comes over to me, lands near me- and its BATMAN! (eyes wide). I would just go eeeehhhh (as he collapsed into his grandmother's arms).

The little boy's excitement spread through the rest of the crowd as the first bat's began to emerge as predicted just as the sun fell below the horizon. Bats flew out circling around- they started appearing from underneath Congress Bridge- one side to the other- like a coordinated Bat Wave at a sporting event. They were incredibly thick- Flying up, out and over us. You could actually Smell their musty odor and hear them flapping and squeaking. As they moved together down the river- they were as think as smoke and you could them in streams of black against the darkening sky all the way down the river.

I was fascinated- staring at them moving off into the distance, watching their graceful yet hyper movements. My coworker, not the biggest fan of what he called "flying rats" had backed almost into the middle of the busy road- avoiding getting too close to the swirling bats preferring to risk his life in traffic- an opponent with which he was more familiar. However, even he was excited and intrigued by the site of so many animals moving in coordinated motion.

So if you happen to hit Austin one summer evening, take a stroll, or a city bus over the Congress bridge in downtown. Don't miss the largest urban bat population in the WORLD.

Perfecting the Log Roll

Great Sand Dunes National Park is home to the tallest sand dunes in North America and also hosts insect species found no where else on earth. This beautiful and unique ecosystem was nothing like the 10 foot Atlantic seashore dunes I’ve grown up around. In the park there are literally mountains of sand. The tallest dune is approximately 750 feet of incredibly soft, fine sand. Our first view was breathtaking-- the huge sand dunes rose out of the flat plains and looked yellow, tan and red- surrounded by stoic snow peaked mountains on three sides.

As we made our way to the dunes, we walked out over the sand and waded through Medano Creek. The creek is a 10 mile long seasonal body of water, formed by melting snow in the surrounding mountains. The creek arrives from spring to early summer and creates a seashore of sorts for land locked Coloradoans lusting after the traditional beach experience available on the coasts.



See that yellow speck? That's me log rolling down the hill in my winter parka!
View more photos We walked on past the families playing in the icy water and building sand castles to climb deeper into the dunes. The sand is unmarred by shells or stones—-it feels like you’ve suddenly become a tiny ant crawling through a child’s sandbox filled mounds and valleys of sand. There are no marked trails and it is helpful to get your bearings with the solid landmasses that surround the dunes. People often snowboard or sled down the dunes but we didn’t come prepared. Instead as I was standing at the top of a dune I was inspired to roll down. We tumbled, and log rolled at incredible speeds. It was exhilarating, dizzying, and incredibly messy! When I landed at the bottom of one of the dunes I couldn’t move. The most I could do was lay there, looking at the panoramic sky, teeth, ears, and pockets filled with gritty sand. It was amazing, beautiful, and cleansing!

Tumbling was fun too!
View more photos If you go- take a moment to hike to the top, run a ways and then fling your body down the dunes with freedom you vaguely remember from childhood. Great Sand Dunes is a healing and inspiring place. Enjoy!

www.nps.gov/grsa/

Celebrity Ducks in Memphis

Tourists to Memphis, Tennessee immediately flock to jazz cafés on Beale Street, pay homage to Elvis at Graceland, and check out Sun Studios. I’ve strolled down Beale Street and witnessed visitors placing floral birthday cakes on Elvis’ front lawn but my favorite Memphis memory was a ½ hour visit to see the Peabody Ducks.

The Peabody is a beautiful historic hotel that has a fountain in the lobby inhabited by real mallards. The ducks first came to the hotel as a practical joke in1932. They were so well received that they moved in for good. Each day they are led to the fountain in the morning and returned to their penthouse pond in the evening. A revered “duckmaster” leads the parade of ducks on their journey. It is incredible to see the ducks line up at the end of the day. They wait for their red carpet to be rolled out and direction from the duckmaster and then follow him all the way to the elevator.

I walked into the lobby with my friend to witness the indoor livestock and their daily ritual. We were determined to look like we belonged in the upscale hotel. We sat in the bar and sipped hot chocolate while we watched the ducks splash in the fountain. Then near the end of the day, the ducks began to line up- anticipating the return of the duckmaster and presumably a meal upstairs in their penthouse. As the Peabody ducks began their walk upstairs, my friend and I abandoned all refined pretense and joined the other bar patrons in getting down at duck level to take photographs of the small parade. Watching an entire room full of adults crouch and cheer for five ducks following a man dressed in red from a fountain to an elevator- is almost as great as watching the ducks.

Enjoy Memphis and all it has to offer- but Don’t Miss the Ducks!

The Parent Trap Revisited

Remember the part of The Parent Trap when Vicki is convinced by the twins to tap two sticks together to keep the mountain lions away? Remember how all of us, sat cozily on our couches and laughed at the poor woman as she tapped her sticks together and hysterically called out during her tormented hike through the woods? Well, during a recent trip to Roxborough State Park in Colorado I was shocked to find out that Vicki’s noisy approach to hiking is nearly exactly what you’re supposed to do in the case of a real mountain lion attack.

As we approached the trailhead we noticed a sign instructing us on “What to do if you meet a Mountain Lion.” The sign instructed you to “Hike in groups, make a lot of noise and to carry a big walking stick to ward off a lion.” They also said to: “1. Stay calm, 2. Stop or back away slowly. 3. Do all you can to appear larger. 4. Fight back.” Then the sign stated a significant disclaimer: “No studies have been done to determine what to do if you meet a lion. But based on observations by people who have come upon lions, some patterns of behavior and response are beginning to emerge. The following suggestions MAY be helpful. But remember: every situation is different with respect to the lion, the terrain and the people and their activity.”*

My reaction: WHAT!! Hurry up! Do a study on mountain lion attacks! Scientists what have you been doing? Get going- write for funding- be confident that your advice will stick and I’ll be safe when I fight my mountain lion!

I have to say that my paranoia began as soon as I read that sign…the beautiful and scenic hike took on a sinister feel. I imagined mountain lions crouched in the brush right next to me. It was difficult to focus on the beautiful butterflies, neat wildflowers and impressive rock formations when I was busy scanning the environment for smashed down grasses, glowing yellow eyes, and maybe even some glistening teeth.

Luckily we escaped the hike without incident. Next time I’ll bring that walking stick and maybe my old school battery powered boom box. A little “New Kids on the Block” circa the 1980s should scare off the big game.

Hysteria aside, Roxborough Park was a beautiful place and a straightforward easy hike. Its well worth a visit just leave your dogs at home and be prepared to defend yourself in real mountain lion territory.



*From: Living with Wildlife in Lion Country, Colorado Division of Wildlife, Colorodo State university Cooperative Extension page D-20

Homecoming

I have kissed a public toilet. Yes, I sat on the floor of the Atlanta airport, wrapped my arms around the toilet bowl and kissed it. After weeks of carrying my own toilet paper around in my backpack and squatting over latrines in the ground I was thrilled to see a clean bathroom stall with free toilet paper and an automatic flush.

I was returning to the States from a trip to Peru when I irrationally embraced the john. Believe me now that a few years have gone by since I flew in from Lima, I cringe at the memory of pressing my lips to the porcelain. But in the moment, I thought I could never be happier to be home.

I love those moments at the end of a trip when you step back into your world.

Isn’t it funny how you always know immediately that the non-descript airport you’re walking into is your home airport? Maybe it’s the familiar greetings of passersby or by the humidity outside that you notice as soon as you leave the plane. Sometimes you are elated for the comfort of a happy homecoming, other times the familiar sites seem just a little bit more horrifying than when you left.

When returning from Spain the first thing I saw on my way into the Philadelphia airport was a smashed mouse. The poor dead thing had been rolled over by at least one other hand held bag and laid there unnoticed right in the middle of the jet bridge. As soon as I stepped off the plane and saw that mouse I sighed. Ahhh- dead mice and disgruntled staff- this must be Philadelphia- I'm home.

Next time you return from a trip, take notice of that irrationally happy feeling you get when you step onto familiar soil again. Celebrate the journey away but also find a way to welcome yourself home.