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November 10, 2008

Write For Us!: Share Your Adventure Contest and Book Giveaway



By awayblog
11/10/2008

comments Comments (125)

Hulahulacontest

For one week in December, Away.com will be turning over the keys to this blog to five adventure-loving readers. Tell us in the comments section, in 100 words or less, about an adventurous travel experience you've had (or an extraordinary destination that you've discovered). The world's your oyster, though bear in mind that the operative word here is "adventure."

We'll select the five best entries and ask each winner to write an expanded post for this blog, to be published next month. Need more incentive to enter? We will also send our five intrepid bloggers a copy of Riding the Hulahula to the Arctic Ocean: A Guide to 50 Extraordinary Adventures for the Seasoned Traveler, the latest world-roving adventure tome from National Geographic Books (check out an exclusive photo preview on Away.com here). What are you waiting for? Start telling your story now!

Entries must be submitted no later than Friday, December 5, 2008. Please be sure to include your email contact details as part of the Typekey submission profile required for submitting your entry in the comments section (this will not be displayed alongside comment, but will allow us to contact winning finalists accordingly). Click here to download the official contest rules.

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awayblog

Thanks for your entries. Great reading! Please visit http://blogs.away.com/travel/2008/12/share-your-adve.html to find out the winners!

Leslie Lello

INCORRECT LINK IN PREVIOUS COMMENT!!!!

The last comment I wrote had the wrong URL: the RIGHT URL is www.alwaystravelling.wordpress.com. Sorry. Here is the last comment again.

I also didn't copy the entire post. Here you go!!!

***********************************

Here is a copy of the first blog entry I wrote at the start of my most recent adventure. I would love for you to visit my blog and would love to get your feedback:

August 2, 2008: The History of This Trip

June 26th, 2008 could be considered the day I became liberated or the day my world came tumbling down.

You would think that I would have been told to leave my apartment building due to financial reasons, given the precarious state of being a low budget film script supervisor in Los Angeles… which can be a precarious position financially.

But it was actually because I spoke up. I broke the unspoken rules of the building. I stood up for myself.

11pm on June 25th… my neighbor bangs on my door and says I am in his spot. He’s yelling at me to move. I say no because I have right to the spot. I’ve lived in the building longer and that was supposed to be the criteria for the premium spots.

Well, I’m not male and do not own a luxury vehicle, so the landlord doesn’t look as favorably on me, regardless of the rules that he made up, so the next day I get a notice that I must leave in 30 days.

Not an eviction as much as a polite dismissal.

I was bummed out for about a minute… and then I realized I was free. I had been released.

I had been yelled at over a parking spot. I was part of a community that was so locked into structure and status quo and propriety that the important things in life for everyone there had become making sure no one was in MY parking spot. The dude was so upset, and while I don’t like being yelled at, I had to laugh.

And then I laughed at myself, because I was equally attached to the spot until I realized how stupid it was.

That was over 400 miles ago.

Behind me.

On June 26th my world opened up.

What to do next? Fine a new place? Fight the polite dismissal?

Travel. I want to travel.

I had been talking about taking a cross country trip for over 7 years. Since I first moved out to Los Angeles from New York. And now I can. I have the time. I don’t have to make rent payments. No kids or husband.

So here I am.

Wasn’t planning to blog but when I saw the journals in Barnes & Noble they called to me, even though I just destroyed about 8 years worth of journals. I don’t need the physical baggage right now. No more stuff. I’m striving to streamline right now, and I don’t think my car could fit another thing, anyway.

Even driving out here to Flagstaff… These first 450 miles… I had insights. I had thoughts. I had perspectives that I haven’t had before because I am in a place in my life that I have never been before.

Home is truly where I hang my hat at the end of the day. It’s both beautiful and terrifying.

This blog is my experience, and it’s mostly meant for me to look over years from now and see what I was thinking while going through all this. I recently reread my journal from England from 10 years ago and it completely connected me with the mindset from that time. And it was a beautiful mindset. Really freeing and happy.

Here is another freeing phase of my life, and I want to be able to gift myself with this feeling in the moments that might come up in my future that may not provide the luxury of freedom.

Leslie Lello

Here is a copy of the first blog entry I wrote at the start of my most recent adventure. I would love for you to visit my blog and would love to get your feedback:

August 2, 2008: The History of This Trip

June 26th, 2008 could be considered the day I became liberated or the day my world came tumbling down.

You would think that I would have been told to leave my apartment building due to financial reasons, given the precarious state of being a low budget film script supervisor in Los Angeles… which can be a precarious position financially.

But it was actually because I spoke up. I broke the unspoken rules of the building. I stood up for myself.

11pm on June 25th… my neighbor bangs on my door and says I am in his spot. He’s yelling at me to move. I say no because I have right to the spot. I’ve lived in the building longer and that was supposed to be the criteria for the premium spots.

Well, I’m not male and do not own a luxury vehicle, so the landlord doesn’t look as favorably on me, regardless of the rules that he made up, so the next day I get a notice that I must leave in 30 days.

Not an eviction as much as a polite dismissal.

I was bummed out for about a minute… and then I realized I was free. I had been released.

I had been yelled at over a parking spot. I was part of a community that was so locked into structure and status quo and propriety that the important things in life for everyone there had become making sure no one was in MY parking spot. The dude was so upset, and while I don’t like being yelled at, I had to laugh.

And then I laughed at myself, because I was equally attached to the spot until I realized how stupid it was.

That was over 400 miles ago.

Behind me.

On June 26th my world opened up.

What to do next? Fine a new place? Fight the polite dismissal?

Travel. I want to travel.

I had been talking about taking a cross country trip for over 7 years. Since I first moved out to Los Angeles from New York. And now I can. I have the time. I don’t have to make rent payments. No kids or husband.

So here I am.

Wasn’t planning to blog but when I saw the journals in Barnes & Noble they called to me, even though I just destroyed about 8 years worth of journals. I don’t need the physical baggage right now. No more stuff. I’m striving to streamline right now, and I don’t think my car could fit another thing, anyway.

Catherine S

As a 20 year novice road biker – love it but I’m not obsessed - or so I thought - taking a dream ride in California wine country with Lance Armstrong’s coach and a recognizable Tour de France commentator became an unforgettable adventure in madness. Gritting my teeth, I ignored burning thighs and screaming low back pain to hang onto a 13 person pelaton for the thrill of flying by fall colored vineyards at average speed of 20 miles per hour. Of course, at our winery lunch stop 20 miles down the road; I gladly sampled my fair share of zinfandel.

Volker Dankmeyer

...scent of Guava and Ginger, the jungle steamed. The Falls roared ahead of us as the rain began to come down. Onward, time was not on our side. Our long day hike to the Hanakapi’ai Falls had become treacherous. Streams were now pouring off the hillsides; members of the group slipped and fell. We turned back with our goal in sight, forward had become too dangerous and I thought of the stream crossings ahead of us. As the trail gained six inches of water and the rain showed no sign of letting up, this adventure was far from over…

Adventure on the Kalalau Trail

by
Volker Dankmeyer
26992 Sandi Lane
Moreno Valley, CA
92555

volker@volkimages.com

Sue Lowery

Build experimental airplane.

Quit job.

Convince wife to drive RV.

Headed west.

Retrace the route of Lewis and Clark, from a different perspective.

We said “goodbye” to our jobs and headed west—me pulling a 32’ RV and my flying photographer husband somewhere overhead, piloting an open cockpit airplane. I was ground crew, mobile hotel and meals on wheels.

For 14,000 miles we flew across America. We dined with direct descendants of Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, landed on ranches, snapped the portraits of Big Horn sheep, dodged forest fires and tornadoes and returned changed adventurers.

Edgar Mendez Chacon

6 days, 5 nights of trekking to make it to the top of the highest peak on the continent of Africa, Uhuru Peak, aka Mt. Kilimanjaro. The first four days were not too exhausting but on summit day (or should I call it summit night since we began at midnight) seemed like the longest 5 hours of my life. Hiking back down to base camp from the summit, I think I had a slight touch of snow blindness. All in all a very successful trip along with a 5 day safari in the Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater!

A couple of photos in the link of my name.

Andrea MacEachern

The Magdelan islands, which belong to the province of Quebec but are located in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. There was one part of my recent trip there that stood out. The trip to Entry Island on a Zodiac! We left the dock in a torrential downpour and sailed at high speeds on the open sea for a while until we reached the coastline of Entry Island. We scoured this coastline for a long time watching birds and seals swarm our boat and darting in and out of caves and caverns. We even spotted a large and rare Leatherback Turtle! We started our tour of the island by visiting a small museum to learn some more about the area. While there, it was recommended that we take a hike to the top of The Big Hill. We debated for some time because we were so tired but in the end we decided that we would have no other opportunity again to climb The Big Hill. And it was a very big hill. We made it to the top after an hour of zigzagging through small valleys and bogs and we finally made it to the top, we were taken back by the spectacular scenery! We rested for a few minutes and watched some whales in the harbour and took some pictures of the scenic lighthouse and the picturesque surroundings. We made our descent just in time to meet up with the rest of the group. We had a few minutes to spare so we entered the café again to buy some ice cream cones and a couple of T-shirts that read “I climbed The Big Hill” and we boarded the Zodiac that unfortunately took us back to reality and left the little deserted island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean behind.

Kobi

“BACKPADDLE!”

Ice cold water exploded over the front of our raft.

“RIGHT FORWARD! LEFT BACK!”

The class IV whitewater was kicking us between boulders like an air-hockey puck.

“HANG ON, BOYS!”

Another sudden drop sent us careening forward, and the river continued its surge.

It was pitch black, freezing cold and pouring rain. We’d been looking for our camp for nearly a half hour as our team of rafts and kayakers disappeared into the surrounding darkness. It was the greatest adventure of my life. Easter weekend. New Zealand. The first descent of the Mokihinui River.

Carol Probst

Flamingo Beach at Culebra was lovely but, attempting to return to Puerto Rico, we found half the island’s population awaiting the ferry. Additionally, numerous “day-trippers” were enjoying the portside bars. Their festive mood turned ugly upon learning the ferry’s capacity was limited and only Culebra citizens could board. Despite police and crew controlling admission, the angry mob stormed onboard. With the captain refusing to leave port, ultimately a high-speed launch arrived to transport everyone back to Puerto Rico. Everything was closed and we were forced to troll the bars to locate our gated parking-lot attendant.

Barb

I wake to Humpback whales breaching as if a reminder it’s time to start the day. Donning a wetsuit, I giant stride off the back of the Solmar V, the liveaboard dive vessel now moored 250 miles south of Cabo San Lucas, Mexico in a remote area known as the Revillagigedo Archipelago. Descending, I am greeted by curious wild dolphins while a giant Manta Ray vies for my attention. In the distance a Hammerhead Shark turns shyly away from my exhale bubbles and I give chase. The songs of the whales trail me as I go.

D.E.M. Brenton

Blood-brown scaled trunks of Engelmann Spruce greeted me as I hiked up the mountain. Droplets of rain tapped in rhythm;
a metronome in sync with forest vibrations.
Suddenly, daggers of ice pummeled me like an enraged Viking wielding the dull side of a saex. Shielding myself, I stumbled back down the trail toward an abandoned den. It was cozy and dry inside. I huddled in a fetal position as I waited for the storm to pass.
Finally emerging, energized and invigorated, bruises freshly tattooed on my arms--souvenirs from the hailstorm, I
descended in awe of nature's symphonic battle.

Cynthia L.McGuire

Well, I rarely travel,due to a large family & the cash to go anywhere exotic,but I remember my first plane ride from San Diego Airport to Deer Valley Airport in Phoenix,Arizona. This trip was actually a visit to meet a friend there who was staying with her oldest son for a couple of weeks,and it turned out to be a wonderful adventure full of sights,sounds,weather,and smells.The smells were of flowers,trees,and,when venturing into Scottsdale,horses.lol.
I had never been to Arizona,but with all the songs about it,I had to go.
The plane was a Southwest Airlines plane,and the crew was not only very helpful & friendly,but very humorous,as well.When I told them it was my first plane ride,they paid close attention to my reactions to the take off.
I had just seen Crocodile Dundee,and I remembered his first reaction,and,when that plane took off,I tried not to mimic Paul Hogan,but did anyway.I was seated right at the right wing,and after being told it was one of the safest places to sit,I soon realized it was actually more like a ride at Disneyland,complete with the vertical position at take off,and felt it throughout my body.Especially,my stomach. It did a flip,and I laughed the entire time,which made the flight attendants careen into each other to get a better view of me.
They roared from their seats. Well, I had ordered a beer to calm my nerves,which was kind of a mistake,since I rarely drink,and I was a bit buzzed during the whole flight,which made them laugh even harder.But I didn't mind.
Well, when we landed an hour and 5 minutes later,after seeing for the first time,the ocean from the sky,the many farmlands with their beautiful green fields,cows,and horses grazing everywhere,I finally got my first glance of Arizona & the mountains & hills that surround it.
We landed,and I exited the airport & found my friend waiting. We then went to her son's & unloaded my gear,and spent the first evening just eating,talking,& enjoying each other's company.
The next few days were filled with shopping,visiting extended family,& finally,a trip through Scottsdale, to a wonderful place called,"Rawhide Ranch".
This place reminded me a lot of Knott's Berry Farm,in Buena Park,California,where I grew up,in it's hayday,before it became so commercial,& still had that country feel.
There were donkey rides,camel rides,which was a treat because I had never seen a camel in real life. Our next stop there, was a great little bar/restaurant. They had wonderful food,& at one point,I began to notice that it was a favorite of the local Navajo tribe who not only live there,but do the traditional tribal dances to entertain the travelers who come there.
One girl, a native Navajo girl,was completely decked out in full,authentic gown & shoes. The I asked her the name of the costume,& she told me it was called a "Cone dress". For the name of the dance that she performed. It was a beautiful blue,with beads & actual,small silver cones sewn onto the dress from bust to the bottom of the dress,& when she walked or moved,the cones would make a beautiful clinking sound that wasn't unpleasant or noisy.
When we finished eating, we went to their little section to watch them perform their dances,& I was mesmerized.There,they sell their jewelry that is so beautiful,I had to have one. Being someone who has loved the Indians & their rich history,that is not only sad in most cases,but so rich in tradition and spirituality. I bought a necklace,and was told that when they create a necklace or any piece of jewelry,it is then blessed. This blessing is supposed to bring the wearer good luck & fortune.
Well, we walked around,and found a shop that sold shoes and moccasins,& being the lover of all things Bohemian, I bought a black pair of Minnetonkas,that were above the ankles,and slouched. My first pair.
They were all so very nice,& all too soon,the adventure ended,& I had to return to my family & reality for me.
The flight home wasn't nearly as tricky for me,& I was actually able to enjoy it,& seeing my husband & 3 kids again,was very precious to me. I love traveling,but being away from my kids for too long, is a bit difficult,but they are nearly grown now,& I'd say it's time for more adventures.

lori sussle

Trying to drive from Monteverde in Costa Rica to Quespos beaches in the south turned into an adventure in May 2008. Yes, the rainy season!

Stopped for the night in Playa Hermosa. Went for dinner at a beach bar where the lights went out three times and the rain was pounding.

The next morning, rain water was coming in under our door, the pool had overflowed and the ocean was colored brown, it was so fierce, picking up all the sand from underneath.

We made it as far as Parrita, to which we were stopped by locals in rain gear in the road. The roads just past the locals were washed out and the earliest we could pass would be Saturday. It was Thursday!

We later learned it was the first tropical storm to hit the Pacific coast in over 100 years. They normally form on the Atlantic coast. Just our luck!

Kash

I have a somewhat substantial fear of heights, but two years ago, while visiting Copan, Honduras, I had the opportunity to experience the Jungle Canopy Tours with my husband and three of our sons. We were harnassed, then attached to cables, hundreds of feet above the ground in the Honduran forest, where we rode zip lines from platform to platform, for miles. It was so thrilling, this November, while visiting Puerta Vallarta, we travelled the zip lines again, where the platforms were grated, so, while waiting your turn to ride, the view of the ground, far, far below, caused some fairly serious vertigo. It was still an adventure not to be missed.

David Demarest

“Guys, I think something is wrong with my bike.”
“Don’t worry. It’s the weight. You’ll get used to it.”

In fact, plenty was wrong. It was nearly midnight, and becoming obvious that just making it out of the Bronx would take all I had.

When I’d decided to join my friend’s band, touring the Northeast by bicycle, helping carry equipment and powering shows with bicycle-generated electricity, I’d imagined mountains of fun, not grueling up-hills and painfully burning quads.

By 3 a.m., as I collapsed exhausted in a church side yard, I feared I’d made a huge mistake.

Casey McClure

I trekked up the steep stone-cut steps of Mt. Huangshan, one of China's most revered mountains, a grueling fifteen-kilometer hike that featured stunning precipices and odd-looking pine trees growing inconceivably out of rock cliffs. Along the way, I passed local porters who had cases of beer, gallons of bottled water , and bulky furniture items strapped to the ends of a bamboo pole across their backs as they trudged up to the resort hotels at the mountain summit.

On a tight budget, I spent the night on Mt. Huangshan in a cramped dormitory. In the wee hours, I was awakened by an overweight Chinese man standing on his bed clad only in underpants with a cigarette stuck to his lip, singing opera. When a dozen people filed into our room, I realized that he was acting as his travel group's alarm clock...

Erin

“I’ll give you surf lessons for free” quipped my friend Brad, with a smirk, as we settled into Casa Privada in the small coastal town of Nosara, Costa Rica. I had just signed up for my first long board lesson with a local instructor. “Sure” Brad continued, “We can go to the pool next door and I’ll hold you underwater until you can’t breathe and beat you up at the same time.” Over the course of the next week, this turned out to be a fairly accurate description of what it felt like to be a rookie at the breaks.

Susan

As I almost ran into the hiker in front of me, all I could think was "what's she stopping for?". Long day, long hike, brush over our heads, no views. Those thoughts, and my breath, were instantly gone when I spied the grizzly bear and two cubs on the trail several feet away. Before another thought entered my mind, the grizzly growled, instinctively sending her cubs back in the direction they had come. She turned and followed; all were out of sight in seconds. The hiker behind me saw them. The hiker behind him wondered aloud why we had stopped.

Kristen

There is a special kind of quiet here.

Not quite silence. No such thing in the buzzing, humming metropolis that is Hong Kong. But as close as it gets.

The Hong Kong cemetery. Grassy acres of history. Not a popular stop on the tourist map – but a must visit destination for anyone with an appreciation of the past.

And with an eye for natural beauty. For this cemetery is as pretty as any botanical garden, as challenging as any country walk. From the steep inclines of the Muslim section to the charm of the many nooks and crannies of the historical colonial area – there is something to intrigue all.

On a sunny December day we thought we'd just swing by for an hour (we stayed for three) – with a poppy in hand keen to pay homage to the cemetery's sole Australian WW1 veteran.

Entering from the hectic road that passes by Happy Valley racecourse, we hiked through the Muslim section. Scaling the hillside we explored, then onto the Christian area – brave people from around the world. Victims of shipping disasters, disease and murder. A story on every stone.

Another hike up to the rear of the cemetery, almost as though into the depths of a forest. It was here that we found the place for our poppy. A lonely Australian, Frederick Brown. So far from home and only 20 when he passed away.

One of a million stories of the past at Hong Kong cemetery.

Jason Sloan

Just a matter of minutes... The cast, reeling in the slack as I hunched over the rod and waited.

With my fingers gripped tightly, I glanced up at the horizon and then out of the corner

of my eye as if a lightning bolt shot thru the water, a silver flash appeared and then vanished.

My reel let out a shriekish zinnnnng, and the fight was on. I knew I was in for an arial smorgasboard

filled with leaps, flips, and twirls. Though I didn't know I was about to be towed 3 miles out into the darkening Gulf,

on my kayak...

Andrea Conway

It is April and we are almost home after an amazing 13,000klm cross-Canada road trip. With dusk descending we run into heavy wind and rain as we wind precariously down the St Lawrence coast to Quebec City. Peering through the murk we are relieved to see a charming little town ahead, nestled around a hill, on top of which is perched a picturesque church. Perfect, we think - a safe place to overnight,and with a magnificent view when the weather clears. In broken French we obtain permission from the rectory to use their parking lot, and settle down to a cozy evening. Sometime during the night we notice that the rain is no longer drumming on our trailer roof. The squalls must have passed we assume as we drift happily back to sleep. However, when we awake the next morning we discover ourselves buried in snow up to our axils with more falling and zero visability. For two days the storm rages and we remain prisoners upon our icy hill top, unable to move and feeling quite ridiculous under the curious stares of the locals who are clearly wondering why anyone would be camping thigh deep in snow in their church parking lot. By the time we finally manage to descend two days later, the town of Mt Helarion seems a lot less charming to us. It is only after we are safely home on PEI that the memory softens sufficiently for us to fondly refer to this as our 'Mt Hilarious Adventure.'

Ginny

After a heartstopping safari in Botswana, we were off on a high-speed excursion across the Indian Ocean to Mozambique. We were about to trade the most exotic animals walking the earth for the captivating life under the sea.

Our first snorkeling adventure featured Pansy Island, one of two places in the world with the fragile, highly prized pansy shell.

Suddenly, the water all around us churned around a pod of wild dolphins. We dove in as a curious pair winnowed up for a look and touch. How exhilarating to meet these graceful creatures living free, far from a theme park.


K

How many people can say they have been to Labrador? Isn’t it amazing that when looking at maps, everything always looks closer than it actually is? Nova Scotia was our planned destination and I thought I could just pop over to Labrador and see an iceberg. Well, you just can’t pop anywhere in Canada. What a vast expanse of a country it is. Traveling by car from Michigan and only 14 days of vacation, you can clearly understand why this quickly became dubbed the “Overly Optimistic Summer Tour” but we did get to Labrador and we did see an iceberg.

Kim Chrisman

On the last day of a Colorado ski trip, my sister and I headed to Vail to top off with some runs before the lifts were yet awake. Upon arrival, the gondola was running for ski patrol so we hopped on with a couple of red jackets. Snow had dusted the mountain the previous night so that the slopes were pristine with flocked trees, white forever and crisp air punctuated only with the romantic aroma of burning firewood. The sun was just beginning to stretch its arms over the mountain as we slid off the lift, poised on the apex.

kevin whitehead

Tuolumne Meadows
It is funny how many things can happen in just seconds. I was hanging six hundred dizzying feet in the air, adrenalin racing through every tendon and muscle in my body. Frozen to the granite not able to move. My fingers could not grip these tiny pieces of feldspar, nor my toes push any harder without tearing chunks of granite with them. The guide book says steep, high, and exposed that is the way it felt, not just there in that small corner of granite, but my whole life. I remember Peter asking if I enjoyed the climb. Did I enjoy the climb? Just how do you respond to a question like that? To this day I can not answer, only now I know a little something more about myself, who I am, what I can do. And that is enough

Ian Cohen

I am not sure how many of you know, but as of April, I am once again adding to the rising unemployment number and doing my best to contribute in pushing our economy into a recession. So thank you President Bush for that $600 rebate check I didn’t receive as I could have spent it on my TOUR D’ WEST COAST MOUNTAIN BIKE EXTRAVAGANZA!!!

From Laguna Beach, Ca to Whistler, BC, I had the saddle sore pleasure of riding the classic trails, camping throughout our beautiful nation, and heeding some wise words of wisdom from an old-timer in Ketchum, Id: “Have fun and ride hard!”

Patty Duffy

This past June I traveled with Windiana, a music ensemble, to five cities in China for a series of Pre-Olympic concerts. After touring Hunzhou, Ningbo, walking the Great Wall, and seeing a little Chinese 5-year-old relieve herself in front of the Imperial Garden in Forbidden City, we arrived at our last city, Quingdao. That afternoon we practiced in the open air Olympic stadium in pouring rain. Our music was soaked, so we hung it from the lone electric cord in our dressing tent, causing our only lightbulb to burn out. But by performance time, the rain turned to mist. We stood under the scaffolding, waiting for our turn on the stage before thousands of Chinese. Looking up at the black sky we heard a thunderous boom and an explosion of fireworks in every color imaginable. The audience chanted "Quingdao Chio!" Voices rumbled with a low oooh followed by polite applause. Playing a part in this celebration brought to me a warm spirit of connection.

Kelly Harrison

Crete, Greece. We took the kids to the Impros Gorge, second in length to Samaria, but far less commercialized. There are no public tours or charter buses, so you’ll have to drive. At just over 8km, the trip took us 2.5 hours to hike down the river rock, and we came across about ten people. The gorge was incredibly beautiful--lots of goats to amuse the kids. I bought a ride back to our car, drove down to the family, and on the drive back up, the kids couldn't believe that they had really walked that entire way.

Keri Barnett-Howell

The tenth day canyoneering in Utah, my group of friends and I decided to go mountain biking. We accidentally picked one of the hardest trails in America, a 14 mile beast, 4 miles in an uphill slog and ten down a miniscule singletrack. I had never biked before; the burnt red of the surrounding mountains did little to ease my terror. I managed to push my bike to the top, and, wheezing, hopped on for the downhill portion. Then-- speeding down the hill, I hit a rock and flew face first over my handlebars. Broken nose; my battle scar.

Mina

Tomales Bay (or how we drove a long way to buy stinky cheese when we could have gone to our local grocery store)

I had been wanting to visit Tomales Bay in Northern California for a long time. My main objective was to taste the organic cheeses crafted in the local creameries. This past Memorial Day Weekend, my husband, Mark and I finally went.

We started out at Point Reyes Station, where we found Cowgirl Creamery, which is famous for their artisan cheeses. I had read about their Red Hawk cheese, and when I smelled its "full-flavored" smell, I knew I had to buy it. We put our cheese in the back trunk, but that didn't prevent the smell from wafting through the rest of the car for the rest of the day.

When we got home, we did a bit of grocery shopping. Browsing at the dairy section, what did we find, but the Cowgirl Creamery cheeses. We could have bought our cheeses much more easily, and in a much less stinky fashion, but our trip to Tomales Bay was certainly more memorable.

KLM

Sometimes, the adventure comes from the people you meet. My husband and I were exploring Tokyo Japan. One evening we asked an older Japanese man in the elevator of our hotel for a restaurant recommendation. The man, Benny, insisted we join him and his wife at the best sushi restaurant in all of Tokyo. After dinner, we joined them for drinks and they toasted our marriage, we weren’t even engaged at the time. The next day they insisted we join them for a lunch of Yakitori. Benny and Kimmy extended such generosity and hospitality, it was an adventure in human kindness.

Maurie

Some friends and I rented a car in Costa Rica. Rafting and zip-lining were on the agenda, but our greatest adventures occurred on the untamed roads along the way. We got lost often and traversed one bridge that was nothing more than wooden planks slapped down on opposing dirt embankments. The highlight of our trip was a visit to Costa Rican traffic court. As we retold our account, in jumbled Spanish, of the taxi driver who sideswiped us and tried to pay us off with a pineapple, we realized that the greatest experiences are the ones you just can’t plan.

Laura Diedrick

Fish 'n Brewis, the comfort food of this extraordinary island, describes the essence of Newfoundland perfectly: simple and surprising, odd, a touch fishie, and memorable. Plus, after not exactly sure of your first bite, it stays with you forever! I convinced my husband to return with me one summer so I could share the breathtaking sight of an irradescently blue iceberg, the surprise of an eagle dog-fighting an osprey for his catch, the tears-in-your-eyes first look at a primeval coast, and the warmth of my new found friends. But we blew an engine in Antiganish, Nova Scotia, and spent our vacation watching stout Scottish gentlemen with short legs tossing telephone poles. That was good, too.

Laura Burnett

Morocco is known for its bath houses or "Hammams," so Rachel and I asked a local to point the way to the nearest one. The inquiry looked something like "Hammam?" and a finger point, shoulder shrug combo. When we arrived neither of us knew how much to pay, or, more importantly, how to use the Hammam. After handing the grandmotherly woman in charge some money we proceeded to the changing area. How much to strip, we did not know. Shoes or no shoes, we did not know. Some women tried to assist us, then shoved large blue buckets in our hands. Soon we were standing in the changing area nude with two buckets each, trying to observe what others were doing around us. Much to our dismay, they were all observing us. I thought we would simply fill the pale, wash, soap and rinse. That would be far too easy. Instead, a nice fellow patron guided us to a corner and barricaded us with buckets. And more buckets, and more...and then more. As Rachel and I scrambled to use the water in the buckets, baffled as to why we would need so many pales and so much water, the woman continued to bring us more...and more...and more. By this point in our bath house bonanza Rachel and I were so confused, so lost, and so stark naked that we couldn't stop laughing.

Laura Burnett

After a long day of souks, markets, hammams, and mosques in Marrakesh, my friend, Rachel, and I somehow found ourselves discussing and then demonstrating--fully clothed, of course, the most effective and efficient peeing style, of all things. While I had a one-legged, one shoe on, one shoe off shebang going on, Rachel vouched for a quadriceps-intensive, massive, two-footed squat to conquering the Moroccan loo. I agreed to try her method. I think she may have me beat.

Randy

CARS-PLANES-TAXIS-WALKING-POLICE
A friend of mine wanted to visit his family in small town out side Philadelpa for Thanks giving. I was to drive with him to the town and then drive the car back to Ohio.It started out with him smoking his favorite ciggarettes, camels one after another. I thought I was going to catch cancer before the state line. By the way this was a Chevy 2 door Camero. The smoke must have been down to my toes. We did make it to PA and when we got there my friend decided he wanted his car. He decided to pay my flight back to Ohio. I was a poor bastard then and only had 3 dollars to eat on. My friend had to pay a taxi to get me to the Philadelpa Air port. It turns out he forgot about the toll roads. My last 3 dollars went to the toll and the taxi driver was asking if I tip good. He was lucky I could pay the toll.I was planing to use that 3 dollars for Burger King. Now 6 hours and no food and still a 2 hour wait and 2 hour fight.
I ate all the bags of peanuts they would give me. My friend also forgot that I needed a ride from the air port to the House in Dublin Ohio, about 35 miles. I started walking. The good news it wasnt snowing when I started. After about 10 miles the snow started, being broke, walking was my only option. A cell phone would have been nice but I was a poor bastard. About that time a police officer felt sorry for me(thought I might be wanted) and picked me up. After running my info he gave me a ride to the end of his area. A very nice woman that seen me get out of the Police car figured if the Police were turning me free I must be safe. She took me the last 5 miles. My Thanks Giving dinner that day was peanuts and soda. I guess what I can be thankful for is I made it home not frozen and injury free.

Chris Christensen

While seeing the wild animals in Tanzania was wonderful, some of my most memorable experiences were just losing myself in the street markets far away from where the tourists normally go. In downtown Arusha, people hawk their wares with great determination. But out in the poorer neighborhoods we were treated as guests. One vendor threw in an extra length of sugar cane when we lacked the small coin it would take to buy it. Better that everyone "taste africa". We were so off of the normal tourist routes that one member of the group was able to find us with ease. People would see him and point to where we had gone with the word "wazungu", white people.

jesse

3:30am, three blocks off the 'Zona Peotonal' in Leon, Guanjuato (Mexico)- a lone hotdog vendor stews idly in the unseasonal fog that has engulfed the capital city hours after the annual art and music celebration has ushered all but the hardiest of revelers into an excessive food and drink-induced slumber. My roommate had just stumbled through the automatic sliding glass doors adjacent to the hotel front desk, when he sensed the precious pork purveyor and, with what could only be descibed as a half smile, half drool, managed to mouth, "dude- dogs!" If it wasn't for the three local college students also in search of late-night libations and merry-making, we might have made our flight back to Miami and missed one of the greatest nights of our life...

Matt

Humberstone. The name itself siphons strange emotions from me. It is a nitrate ghost town in northern Chile; a place that once bustled with the activity of hundreds of people. It’s a complicated place…a place I can’t hope to understand in the hour I’ve stood in cold Atacama winds under the bright southern sun. Once upon a time, Humberstone lined the pocketbooks of owners while workers traded hours for credits; in turn, those credits for goods. Once upon a time, the haunted theater I now rest in swelled with the scores of the latest moving picture…those days, no more…

corinna

It was always my dream to go to Germany with my daughter, who was 6. I wanted to show her a more natural life. We arrived in Frankfurt and I was suprised at the moderness of the large airport there. We went onto a very comfortable train and went south. We arrived in baveria, words can not discribe how wonderful the air smelled. Our hotel was in a small town with almost no trafic at all. We had ponies and more forrest than time to discover. After taking a trip to the New Swanstone castle, the real one, not Disney's version, we went to a restaurant. I was suprised to see how much food you can buy for relatively little money. The next day, we took at trip to something call a ALMABTRIEB. This was the most beautiful scene ever. It was a parade of cows. They spent all summer up in the hills, come fall, the ranchers have them all come down wearing cowbells. My daughter got a kick out of the cowparade. Again, at the end of the day there was
plenty delicious natural food for very little money. And the best thing, the waiters do not expect you to pay a big tip. When I gave a waiter 5 euros more,he was overjoyed. I thought that was just the sweatest thing ever. My daughter made friends with the local children and everybody was very wellcoming. I would go to Germany again anytime---------I hear Christmas is very special over there as well.

Rica Osburn

You may think everything that could be written about a trip to Paris has been written,but au contraire,my friends. My friend and I stayed in youth Hostels for around twenty dollars a night. We ate fabulous meals where the locals ate. We walked all over the city of light,no expense there! I even lost weight while I was there. We went to museums on free days.We got eurail passes befor we left the states,so we rode the trains for very little money. I went to Paris on a budget,and had a lovely time. Anyone can do it. Bon Jour! Rica Osburn

William J. Shaw

A recent 84 day RV driving trip to Alaska covering 19 states as far south as Arizona. We joined an RV caravann for 33 days. We toured most of Alaska, British Columbia, Yukon, and Alberta. Total of 13,000 miles.

Joshua Talley

When I told friends of plans to ride my bike from Fairbanks, Alaska, to the Arctic Ocean, their responses ranged from concern to outright horror.

"You'll get eaten by mosquitos."

"You'll get eaten by a grizzly."

And my favorite, "As long as you can ride uphill 30 mph uphill and shoot bullets out of your ass, you'll be fine."

Most people simply looked confused.

Opened in 1974 and referred to by pragmatic Alaskans as "The Haul Road," the little known Dalton Highway doesn't offer the romance of California's Pacific Coast Highway or the graceful engineering of Florida's Overseas Highway, which skips across the Atlantic the length of the Keys. Historically, the Dalton can't touch Route 66. Hell, the Dalton's not even paved...

Jim Whittle

An eight seat plane and three stops in remote airports prior to landing in Placencia leave us wondering how we decided on Belize as our vacation destination.
For us, adventure traveling means new places, flying in (no cruises), exploring, and meeting new people - the locals.
People are a large part of our adventures. In this small village, we meet
brothers Alfred and Jason who, over two days, take us to Monkey River, into the jungle to see howler monkeys, snorkeling, and twenty-five miles out to sea in an oversized John boat - fishing for yellow fin and barracuda.

Jim

It started with a rickety puddle jumper to the island of Ambergris Caye, Belize. This year we decided to head into the jungle. To get there, we loaded up into a boat that took us back to the mainland through turquoise water, fishing villages, and past millionaires’ islands. Upon arriving, we hopped on a bus and into the unending jungle of Belize. 45 minutes later we arrived at our destination: the Caves Branch river-cave system. After hiking 20 minutes up the mountain we found ourselves cave-tubing in complete darkness, bats flying above, and getting stoked for zip lining through the jungle.

Sara

Having drifted down the river through the moist jungle like an explorer of old, I stood to survey the homestay. The Iban Longhouse. Thirteen rooms joined by a long covered verandah on stilts. Chickens happily peck their way across bed mats. Dogs sprawl across the slatted floor boards. A lack of running water. Climbing Mt Kinabalu had been a physical challenge and here was the mental. Then discomfort quickly dispelled by broad smiles, the smells of Malaysian food cooking and laughing children. Three days of wearing sarongs, traditional dancing and singing and Malaysian food. Magic.

Sue Ann Lieber-Young

The Big Road Trip – “What On EARTH am I here for? My big road trip began on Mother’s Day and commenced three weeks later. Going Home. The images, words, unfamiliar objects and trip experiences created a personal journey into healing the soul. The marvelous women met became my sisters: I very much have a purpose driven life, which was written on a big road sign in large print. I don’t live a pretentious, showy life. The trip was an opportunity in a lifetime. May all of you have a purpose driven life, which is my red thread of human existence.

Bob Barlas

When in Turkey, try ballooning in Cappadocia - the most serene travel experience possible! Leave at dawn, rise way up in the air, and silently skim the tops of the hills as the sun rises, while gazing down at the ever changing pattern of light and colours on the landscape below. Not for those with no head for heights (nor for those who don't like to get up early!) but the skills of the pilots are phenomenal and views are breathtaking - what an almost surreal experience! It's not particularly cheap, but, especially when topped off with a complimentary champagne breakfast when you land again, it's still probably the best value for money I've ever spent when travelling!

crzdchmra

Several years ago I studied abroad in England and had the opportunity to do a fair amount of traveling. The majority of trips we took were entirely spontaneous and lacked planning. Between the friends and family I traveled with across Europe we stumbled across the most unexpected things: the National Irish Dancing Championships, the National football team that was staying at the same hotel as us, the boat we thought would capsize on our way to Mykonos, the protests in Trafalgar Square – one signed by my mother and me with funny names, and so much more.

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