Digging for Woolly Mammoths

Have you missed your calling? Are you really meant to be an archeologist like Indiana Jones*-- hanging over snake pits, gulping down monkey brains and outrunning large rocks? Instead you’re trapped inside the career of a teacher, mechanic, pilot, or administrative assistant? Don’t worry it’s not too late!

Hop on a plane and head over to Mammoth Site in Hot Springs, South Dakota to follow your destiny! (I flew Midwest Airlines where the flight attendants still serve warm chocolate chip cookies for free- even in coach class. I ate 4 big, warm gooey cookies before 10 AM! )


At Mammoth Site amateur and professional paleontologists work side by side to unearth the greatest finding of Woolly and Columbian mammoths in North America. So far 55 mammoths have been discovered in one sinkhole. All of them are young adolescent males. Apparently male mammoths went out on their own in adolescence and these guys didn’t know enough not to go down to drink from a sinkhole that was too slippery and mucky to climb out. The fossils are around 26,000 years old and researchers are still not sure how many mammoths are left to discover. There may be as many as 100 mammoths and other animals layered under the already discovered animals.

The dig site is covered by a climate controlled building with walkways where visitors can watch volunteers at work digging fossils. It was amazing to see the fossils displayed in-situ just as they lay down in death thousands of years ago. You can see whole beasts stretched out as bones are painstakingly pulled from the rock and processed in an adjacent lab. On a guided tour I learned the nicknames for each mammoth and by the end of the visit I could easily pick out a mammoth tooth from a hip bone. In the museum we saw impressive re-constructions of huts built out of mammoth bones by early humans and learned about the other animals living and extinct found at the site.

The whole site depends on volunteers for excavation. Each dig season Elderhostel Groups, Earthwatch volunteers and Jr. Paleontologists work in this tiny out of the way town unearthing long buried fossils. If you’re on your way, be sure to sign up and be the first human to make the next mammoth discovery in Hot Springs.

I left the site with some photos and a fabulous yellow T-shirt that proclaims ‘Just Dig’ right on the front. I’m not ready to give up my career to follow in Indiana Jones’s* footsteps. It would be a life with a lot of travel, dirt covered toothbrushes and more patience than I can imagine. But I’d highly recommend a day at Mammoth Site where you can see fossils of ancient animals as they are first found lying in the ground until a volunteer patiently, slowly and repetitively scrapes away the dirt from bone.



*Disclaimer: The fictional character, Indiana Jones, was actually an archeologist, not a paleontologist. He did not discover any Woolly Mammoths in his films although he did get really dirty searching for old stuff.

Hunting for Headstones

Philadelphia has some wonderfully preserved graveyards. The graveyard at Christ Church or the city's first suburban cemetary, Laurel Hill, may be the best known. But many of Philadelphia's graveyards have not been carefully cared for. These graveyards have been moved, destroyed, neglected and abandoned as the city has grown and changed.

I was fascinated by the story of one of these lost cemeteries. A cemetery swept away by changing politics and a growing university. According to Philadelphia lore, in 1956 Temple University purchased the large, Monument Cemetery. They hoped to build a parking lot and playing fields on the site. In order to clear the land of human remains and tombstones 28,000 bodies had to be re-located. Most unclaimed bodies were quietly dumped into large mass graves in suburban cemeteries. The headstones and monuments were dumped into the Delaware River as support for the base of the Betsy Ross Bridge. The Betsy Ross Bridge was being constructed at the time and the headstones served as “riptrap” for the emerging bridge. Apparently at low tide you can still see the headstones submerged in the water at the base of the bridge and you can make out the names of those now resting in an unmarked suburban grave.*

Eeek!! I have chills just writing about this!

Riveted by the story, I decided to try to find a way to see this in person. So I cleared my Valentine’s Day calendar for an adventure to the shores of the Delaware River. I went online and used a handy tide calculator for the river and found out when the tide would be at its lowest. Then my accomplice and I got directions…and we were off.

I was super excited to jot down the names of these forgotten individuals and was ready to go traipsing through some muck for the view. Unfortunately our exciting adventure was thwarted by lots of barbed wire, no trespassing postings and signs of a transient community. I didn’t realize just how far we’d have to trek through the underbrush and how much fence climbing we’d have to do between the beginning of the bridge supports and actually reaching the water. We didn’t feel up to climbing fences and so we left the tombstones undiscovered and opted for a drive over the Bridge to a favorite Jersey diner. I guess we'll have to go by boat to see the stones. Does anyone have a spare kayak and the burning curiosity to confirm this legend?

Our trip was not completely in vain. We did have the opportunity to drive through the massive Tioga Fruit Terminal where I collected some great new fun facts. Tioga Fruit Terminal is an impressive port where a huge percentage of Chilean fruit comes into the US. Apparently the Delaware River ports are responsible for importing and processing 65% of all the cocoa beans used in the US and lots of the nuts, fruits and cut flowers.**

Let me know if you’re up for finding some submerged headstones. If you’ve got a life vest we’ll go boating down the Delaware where we’ll dodge ships dropping off bananas.



**This story and more fascinating Philadelphia cemetery stories can be found in Thomas H. Keels book “Philadelphia Graveyards and Cemeteries” published by Arcadia Publishing in 2003.

Today’s Trivia: Why use the words graveyard and cemetery in the same title? According to http://wiki.answers.com a graveyard is on the grounds of a religious institution while a cemetery is just for burying people and not associated with a particular religion.

**More info on the Tioga Fruit Terminal can be found at http://customs.gov/xp/cgov/newsroom/news_releases/02122009_5.xml or http://economyleague.org

Seaweed in San Diego

What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when I say California Beaches? Maybe you’d say…surfers, sharks, sun tan lotion, sea lions…probably not seaweed.

There’s a place on Ocean Beach in San Diego, CA where the ocean pounds against weathered flat slippery rock. A friend and I walked along the rocks at night where the ocean’s crashing waves stood out starkly against the dark water, and dark rock. This eerie setting was it…this is where we found the largest seaweed/alien being I’ve seen.

On first glance this giant serpentine weed looked like a long discarded rubber garden hose. I was, convinced by my friend, an east coast ex-pat turned west coast beach bum, that it was in fact seaweed. I had to see more.

I’ve never seen stylish seaweed like this off the Jersey Shore, the Delaware beaches or even the Florida coast. It was more than 20 feet long, all stretched out. I picked up the seaweed and dragged it over the beach and rock to a walkway with a light. As I dragged the weed with me, bored skaters stepped on the end of the plant dragging behind me- catcalling- Nice Seaweed! My friend laughed the whole way, teasing me that this just might be an alien and when I got to the light I’d see its creepy eyes. Ick!

Coming into the light we could examine this weed. What a beautiful plant! Turns out that the alien-like seaweed we found is actually Elk Kelp. A kind of kelp native to the peninsula off of the southern coast of CA. The Elk kelp has a big air bladder at the top of the stem to hold the plant off of the bottom of the ocean. In case you’re wondering, yes, I stomped on the bladder, opening it up to find a hollow space filled with dripping with plant goo (a technical term.) Splitting off from the bladder are two long “antlers” which capture sunlight in the deep ocean waters. Elk kelp is found in large underwater forests indigenous to the coast of Southern California. The plants can be up to 100 feet long with their antlers stretching out 20-60 feet.

After our alien encounter with the giant seaweed I spent the rest of the evening walking, talking and re-connecting with my old friend. He showed me as many beach towns as we could cover in a few hours. We saw a seaside amusement park with a rickety looking wooden roller coaster, a concrete boardwalk and a serve yourself frozen yogurt shop but the most unique discovery for me- what set the west apart from the east- was the elk kelp washed up on the rocks and the locals who thought that was what everybody’s seaweed looked like.

Thirsty Cacti

Many say that the deserts of the American Southwest are some of the most beautiful places on earth. I would argue that the summer desert is a terrifying and intimidating place- made all the more eerie by the small squares of irrigated grass and dehydrated cacti found slapped in the middle of the arid valleys. That said, there is no other place like the desert and so my visit to the fault-lined resort of Palm Springs is worth writing about!

One of the first things that I learned after flying over the irrigated golf courses of Palm Springs was that the town of Palm Springs doesn’t actually have any indigenous Palm trees. It is strangely named after springs which nurture stands of indigenous palm trees miles away in the Indian Canyons. To witness the visual starkness of a natural oasis sans golf courses take the drive out to the canyons and hike through a forest of Palm Trees in Palm Canyon. This is a truly special ecosystem because most other palms in the United States are not indigenous. This is California at its most extreme and is worth a trek out in the blistering desert heat. Don’t forget to bring lots of water!

When I arrived at my hotel room I immediately opened my room’s curtains. I opened them to a view of one of the ugliest mountain ranges I can remember. I tried to call it beautiful- but all that I could think was- Gosh I wouldn’t want to be lost out there. Rising before me was a big wall of brown, forbidding, MEAN looking mountains. Looking down- to check out the area around the hotel I saw that the cacti were being watered. Wow- I didn’t think that you had to water cacti!

During my visit I had the opportunity to see the raggedy splendor of this resort town. Every Thursday night Palm Springs offers an open air market and street festival. Tourists wander around to different restaurants and kiosks to buy crafts and sample slushies and your standard street fair treats. I enjoyed lots of treats and watched some eccentric performances. Turns out that Lucille Ball loved Palm Springs and there is a fabulous statue in homage to the star. There are also some gold sidewalk stars along the roads with great directors, actors, and artists from this little town’s heyday as a celebrity haven.

The town was exotic, and fragile. The menacing mountains seemed to constantly emphasize that without the carefully timed sprinklers and far away Colorado river water the sweltering little town would vanish. On my way out of town I drank a big glass of complimentary lemon water and rolled into the open air airport. I marveled at the airport playground right by the runway and thought abut the former fame of this little town of green surrounded by brown. This time I was happy to be headed home.

Albuquerque High

If you’re a six year old, what’s the coolest thing about Albuquerque, New Mexico?
Is it the renowned American Rattlesnakes Museum http://www.rattlesnakes.com or the deliciously greasy Lindy Diner along Route 66?
Nope! It’s East High, the school featured in Disney’s made-for-TV movie, High School Musical. A certain six year old hoped that my colleague and I would make finding the real school our personal mission while we attended a conference for work. We thought, “how hard can it be?” we’ll do our work and then snap a shot of the place where real Disney magic happened on our lunch break.

It wasn’t quite so simple, turns out that we were easily distracted and our mission ended up taking us on some adventurous detours through the city. We’d recommend:

-Eating all sorts of meat at the Brazilian restaurant Tucanos
(http://www.tucanos.com/)
-Window shopping for hand-made jewelry in Old Town
-Posing with a giant frog and other public statues
-Oogling over some offensive but well-endowed cowboy cactus souvenirs
-Buying brightly colored pottery
-Taking some photos of the amazing mountain views and the faux adobe architecture.

By the end of our trip the school was still nowhere to be found. The pangs of guilt hit us as we got in the cab to go back to the airport and realized that we would have to leave- our mission un-fulfilled and a six year old disappointed.

We drove toward the airport distracted by our upcoming flight when suddenly my colleague looked out the window and her mouth fell open- she barely had time to croak out- “THERE IT IS” before we turned the corner and it disappeared from view. As we were driving out of town we had passed the old Albuquerque High School. No photo- because we couldn’t rationally ask the cabbie to screech to a halt mid-intersection- but now we know it is there.

The school, built in 1914, is no longer home to students but it has recently been renovated into quirky loft apartments, original flooring and bleachers left intact! http://www.abqhigh.com/ So on your next visit to Albuquerque—take a tour through the school’s lofts- watch the movie- and snap a photo for us!

Unexpected Experiences in Greensboro

When I walked into my hotel room I noticed that the full length mirrored closet doors had fallen in, the bathroom doorknob had been destroyed and the normally locked door to the next room was not only unlocked but it looked as though someone had tried to escape using their spare crow bar.

I was concerned that there had been some sort of horrible event in the room just moments before I arrived. I called the front desk to see about getting a room transfer or getting the room fixed. The weary desk clerk forlornly explained that the hotel was reeling from the recent visit of thousands of middle-schoolers. Ah Ha- now the damage made sense.

The desk clerk assured me that someone would be up to fix the door lock. The repair man arrived late in the evening and I was already pajama clad and anxious to climb into the big fluffy bed to read. To be honest I was a little nervous about inviting a strange man into my room and wasn’t particularly happy to have to deal with the results of so much youthful fun.

I opened the door to an older, friendly looking gentleman, invited him in and described the problem. He too thought a twelve year old’s escape plan had been enacted here and found that he’d have to completely re-build the lock.

Over the course of the next hour or so that it took to fix the lock on the door; the third shift repair man and I had a fantastic conversation. I learned about his Creole heritage, his first and second wife, his wonderful children and grandchildren and a little about his political views. He told me of his long and varied career- from janitor and educator, to hotel handyman. We chatted about the different places we’ve traveled, all the people he had met at the hotel and also about the intricacies of changing a lock. As he left he smiled, shook my hand and thanked me for the conversation--he said that it would be one of his highlights for the year.

I went through the rest of the conference- spending four days within the halls of the hotel and I’d have to agree. It was the most unexpected highlight of my trip-- connecting with someone so different from myself who was so interested in sharing his experiences and observations about all of those that travel through his workplace everyday.

Business Trip Moose Sighting

When your plane lands and you arrive at the Anchorage airport terminal you are greeted by a giant stuffed bear and a stuffed fox. The bear is a record holder- for his 30 inch skull- and he certainly looks imposing standing on his hind legs, towering over every daring traveler who passes him dragging their wheeled luggage and clutching their cell phone.

The more I traveled throughout Anchorage the more I realized that stuffed animals were everywhere. Taxidermists must actually make some money in this town. Around Philadelphia, I always thought that Taxidermists were kept in business mostly by western PA deer hunters and the Academy of Natural Sciences. In Anchorage- animals of all shapes and sizes, frozen in all kinds of menacing positions lurked around corners and surprised me once- even in a restaurant restroom.

So i may be forgiven for asking my colleague if the giant Bull Moose standing outside our hotel one evening around 4:30 was real. We had seen A LOT of stuffed animals and it is getting close to the holiday season. My reasoning-- who needs lighted animatronic reindeer in their yard when you've got moose?

However, this furry creature was happily eating, breathing, and walking- if this was animatronics this was GOOD!

Our moose was eating the last berries off of a tree right outside our hotel door. His antlers were huge-almost an inch of snow was trapped on top of them. Our moose was beautiful, dignified, and unperturbed by our flashing cameras. So, if you happen to be heading to an evening business meeting in midtown Anchorage- Look both ways on your way out of your hotel- you just might see a moose.

Fishing for King Crab

The rumors are true, Commercial fishing in Alaska is a COLD, exhilarating and deadly profession.

Sitting inside a warm cab and driving back towards my hotel I struck up a conversation with my cab driver. My Alaskan cabbie was a former physic's teacher, graduate school drop out turned Commercial Fisherman.

He described his years out on the water fishing each season for a different catch. Each story was more intriguing and admittedly more terrifying than the last.

The story I'll remember most, was his description of his frequent trips out on the ship to fish for King Crab. He said that fisherman work incessantly out on the ocean for 8 or 9 days at a time. They battle huge sea swells and lift heavy crab traps into the water just to drag indescribably heavy full ones out. He described cold that he said Philadelphians couldn't imagine-(And I couldn't I was shivering in 6 layers of clothing on one November evening [it was about 10 degrees out]. Forget about the winter in Alaska with minus 30 degree weather, soaked in icy ocean spray.) With wind chill he said it often felt like minus 60 or 70 degrees. He said that he stayed warm only by moving. He felt that if he stopped for even a moment his blood might freeze in his veins.

This lean, tall, bearded and distinguished man behind the wheel of the cab really looked the part. I could imagine him dressed in heavy layers of wool, topped with bright colored rain gear, shouting to his fellow fishermen.

He told me that he could actually see ice form before his eyes- water would turn to ice in front of him. He said that when the crab traps were sitting on the boat and waves would wash over them he would have to "scramble like a monkey" up the huge piles of crab traps to chip, chisel, and slash new ice off of the traps. Ice would form so quickly and so thickly that its weight could actually sink the boat.

His stories were so vivid, exciting and horrifying that when we reached our warm hotel, with fireplaces glowing in each room, it was almost comical to hear this strong man, who had thrived in the intensity of life on the icy sea, wish us farewell saying..."come back in the spring- it is beautiful then-- and warm, You'll never leave."

Sharing Salted Nut Rolls

On a plane from Anchorage, Alaska back to the Twin Cities I began a friendly conversation with the bearded man next to me. My plane mate was a fantastic conversationalist and the flight was dramatically shortened by his zesty stories.

One of the first things I found out about my neighbor was that he was going home to North Dakota to put the finishing touches on his hand built log cabin. He just happened to have photographs on his digital camera and I was able to see his beautiful craftsmanship.

Partway through the trip he offered to share a Salted Nut Roll with me. I had never heard of such a food and was slightly worried that it was somehow related to Beef Jerky. I agreed to try the mystery food mostly because I didn’t want to be rude and it was a long flight- however I was pleasantly surprised! I’d recommend the Salted Nut Roll to anyone. It was a delicious candy bar: nougat covered in caramel and rolled in salted peanuts. My plane friend and I shared two of them and some ginger ale.

As many people slept around us- we continued to talk. I learned that he had just been on a hunting expedition with two bear hunters. He was not a bear hunter himself- on this expedition he was hunting deer in a very rural part of Alaska. On his expedition he had found a bear skull. He took his carry-on luggage from the overhead compartment to show me his beautiful find. I wasn’t sure that bear skulls were particularly standard carry-on items so we were stealthy about spending the time to look at it.

He told me stories of his three man wilderness expedition- including that there were quite a few weasels that played outside of his cabin eating a deer head he’d left for them. Apparently weasels are playful and fun- especially when well fed.

My friend was on his way home to North Dakota- another harsh inhospitable land- with stark weather and unique people. He told me that at home he always empties a liquor bottle so that it is only ¼ of the way full so that he can offer guests a bit of spiked iced tea- but can also ensure that they will not stay too long- experience says they’ll almost always leave when the bottle is empty.

It is neat to think of all the times people connect with each other over food: sometimes it’s a connection built over a calculated snort of spiked iced tea and sometimes just a mile high nut roll.

Modern Day Shepards in Spain

I've always thought of sheparding as a profession popular in the good ole days. Shepards of my imagination were people who wore head scarves to block the sun, carried a rounded staff, and witnessed heavenly angels coming out of the sky on a special evening in December.

That was my impression of shepards until i was flying down an Autopista in my rental Yaris somewhere a few hours from Gijon and a flock of hundreds of sheep crossed the overpass above my speeding Yaris. The sheep seemed hurried, and wanted to get over the overpass quickly. They were pushing and running as fast as sheep in a large group can run. It was amazing to see such a mass of moving off white wool. What a contrast to the speeding highway and the silent quiet countryside in the surrounding fields.

Now it is a really weird to see hundreds of sheep standing above you on an overpass. It is even weirder when you realize that the shepard leading them, is wearing sneakers, carrying a book and listening to an i-pod.

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!