That Florida Connection

I had arrived. I was back in the steamy woodlands of what I called for many years, my home. Cruising down the blacktop of a two lane road, it weaved and meandered its way through the backwoods of North Central Florida. We drove deeper and deeper into the forest. The forests where, as we ran wild in the heat of summer, the sweat dripped from our skin as thick and as plentiful as the Spanish moss that oozed from the sprawling branches of the mighty live oak trees. Those same soaring live oaks lined the roads and permeated the vast slash pine groves and the swamps of Alachua County where we lived. The hot, humid wind, that now raced through the open window, held not only the aroma of swamp water, mixed with the sweet smell of honeysuckle on the vine, but it also carried within it, memories of times gone by.

I spent almost my entire life connected to these back roads and woodlands. It was the freshwater springs, blackwater rivers and tannin-laden lakes that we spent our lives exploring. We fished on the lakes and caught crawdads in the clear running creeks. We spent as much time as we could out in the woods: we swam, we drank, we camped, we canoed. We fought and loved and grew from feral children into young, guns a blazin’ adults here in these forests, which now whizzed by me at a furious rate. And now, with each passing mile, the woodlands through which I traveled continued to bring me closer and closer to home.

As I grew, my connection to the woods of North Central Florida grew with me. It was here amongst the backdrop of the magnolia trees, slash pines, and a vast variety of oak trees, where I raised my kids. It’s where they eventually grew and fought and loved and swam and explored as I did. It was there, in a trailer snuggled into a 10-acre tract of land deep in the wild growth of trees, that was our home, our playground, our teacher, our friend, and our refuge. It was those surrounding    woodlands where we hunted whitetail deer 

to feast upon. It was there that we traded that deer meat or our fresh caught fish for a local farmer's fare. It was there where my kids grew to adulthood only to leave the nest to settle in places bigger and less wild; carrying with them the lessons one learns in such a place as this.

As my family grew, so did my career. A land surveyor by trade, once again I found myself connected. Connected to the land in a way that few people get to experience. The land on which we lived, the land that surrounded me was where I spent all my days; traipsing through blackberry thickets swinging a machete among the gators, snakes, and mosquitoes that grew as big as the giant unwieldy banana spiders that weaved their webs overhead. 

50 years it was that I bushwhacked my way through it all. Through the woods, through parenthood, through the loss and the joy of life in the country. And all of it, every moment of my time there in North Central Florida, made me the woman I am today. My love of all things outdoors was nurtured here. And, to be honest, I never even knew then, how that love would transcend into a love of the rest of the earth that I never dreamed that I would ever get to see. 

And yet, here I am, about to embark upon another grand adventure as far away from those parts as one could ever imagine. There is no doubt that no matter how far I wander from that place that was once my home, I will always carry with me the lessons I learned and the love I garnered for the earth while I grew to adulthood deep in the heart of Florida.

                                    In loving memory 

John Sherman Flowers

A Journey Around The World

The Glacier Express 

Not long ago, I came up with the crazy idea of traveling all the way around the Earth. And before long, I set out to do just that. I set out to circumnavigate the globe. As I currently sit here on a beach in South Florida, the last eight months began to play like an old film in my mind. Flashes of all the things I've seen and all the things I've done came spilling out of my memories like water falling from great heights, cascading down into a pool of crystal water. In a span of half a year, I have: Gazed upon the Grand Canyon covered lightly in snow.

Fiji

I have hiked the rugged trails of Zion National Park and played the slots in Vegas. I've traversed 100 km through the temperate rain forests of New Zealand and saw the moon rise and the sun set along its golden beaches. I've cruised along Milford Sound, been engulfed in the gray mist of Key Summit, and gazed upon the blue ice of a

Key Summit NZ

mountain glacier. I've spent St Patrick's Day with the Irish in Queenstown. I've drank kava with the Fijians, lazed along the turquoise sea of their beautiful islands, and dove free beneath the sparkling surface of the Pacific Ocean. I've seen the Sydney Opera House, walked the Harbour Bridge, and cuddled a koala. I've hiked through the largest eucalyptus forest on earth and watched the surfers at Bondi ride the swells of the most famous beach in all of Australia. I've seen Aboriginal villages, seen miles of crocodile-filled shorelines, snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef, and walked under the canopy of the Daintree; the oldest rainforest in the world.

Great Barrier Reef

I've spent the night on the floor in the Singapore airport, sailed the Greek Isles, and stood in awe of the Acropolis. I've floated the breadth of the Adriatic Sea, spent hours walking in awe through the ancient streets of Pompeii, and stood high on the mighty Mt. Vesuvius.

Camping the Swiss Alps

I've seen the streets of Amsterdam and the rolling hills of Sweden. I've gazed upon distant planets hanging silently over the crystal waters of Lake Vanern. I've spent starry nights camping in the fjord lands of Norway and rode through the magnificent Flam Valley on a bike yelling 'wheeeeeeee' all the way. I've waved at Kings, seen colorful parades, and slept on the streets of Bergen. I was the first person to step foot on Norway's first-ever electric cruise ship; the wave of the future. I've seen my favorite performer with 80,000 other crazy fans and ridden on the slowest express train in the world. I've gazed upon the mighty Matterhorn, camped under Jungfrau and Eiger; the towering peaks of the Swiss Alps. I've sat for hours watching them never move, but change with every rolling cloud that washed over them. I've stood in those same mountains, 12,000 feet above sea level, and strolled through caves carved from their existence; caves made from solid, seemingly impenetrable grey ice. I've tented my way across Scandinavia and crisscrossed Europe through Switzerland, Germany, Italy, Greece, and beyond. I've walked the streets of Bavarian

Hiking Ireland 

 villages where fairy tales, castles, knights, and wizards sat ever-present swirling in my mind. I have hiked the sweeping sand dunes of the northwest coast of Ireland, visited its surfing capital Bundoran, and climbed from the sea to a summit in a day. I've stood wind-blown high above soaring mountain passes and swam in freezing oceans. There have been rain-filled days of slumber, music in pubs, and beers galore. I've walked the green

hills, forests, and bogs from the Irish Sea to the vast Atlantic Ocean. I've meandered along the Emeralds Isle's meadows, rocky shores, and beaches. And of course, I've visited a quaint Irish seaside village or two. I've spent hours happily walking the sweeping hills and dales of England. I've watched rain storms glide over waterfalls, walked laughing in the rain, gazed on rainbows, rode gondolas, seen butterflies flutter,

Lake District, UK.

 and have seen birds awash with the colors of the spectrum of a rainbow. I've seen a plethora of sunsets and sunrises. I've walked black, white, and red sand beaches, eaten pizza and prawns as big as my head, fallen in love with mountains and valleys, and visited cities that charmed and dismayed me. I've gazed upon raging rivers, soaring waterfalls, and babbling brooks. I have stood alone and listened to the buzz of millions of bees; the music of the earth. I've traveled over 25,000 miles spanning four continents, walked over 1000 miles, and flown further than I've ever flown before.
It's truly been the adventure of a lifetime and I'd do it all over again in a second.
                                                           

                         
                                                         

Greece

Italy; What's up with That?

Italy. Huh. I certainly didn't know what to expect before I visited Italy. And I was certainly surprised. Negativity isn't really my thing, but honesty is. And to be perfectly honest, Italy was about as appealing as a root canal. Seriously Italy. The first thing that struck me, and stayed with me throughout my time there, was the unending amount of garbage everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Cigarette butts, trash, and graffiti were plastered over every street corner, every empty wall, and in damn near every town. It's hard to see the character in something when one has to look at it through a wall of dilapidated everything. I'm mean come on. Have a little pride. Now as I traveled north into the champagne region it did improve somewhat. And I'll have to say I had some amazing experiences in Italy. I especially liked Cinque Terre for its beauty ( minus the throng of tourists) Pompeii was a once-in-a-lifetime and deeply moving experience, and hiking Mount Vesuvius gave me some mad bragging rights. So it wasn't all bad. Unfortunately, all my memories will have to be salvaged through a still frame of garbage. So if you're going to Italy for its charm prepare yourself for what you'll actually find; take your visions and then surround it with the unappealing junk which lies beneath, in front, and around every corner. My advice would be to rent a car and head way out into the countryside. Maybe all the beauty I saw from afar really is out there somewhere. But I sure never found most of it. Arrivederci. And good luck.

Hiking Strandhill, County Sligo, Ireland

Traveling across Ireland is one of my all-time favorite things to do. This is my 4th time visiting Ireland in 8 years. It was great to visit my favorite towns on this journey, but it was also really cool to explore some areas I've never been to. After having done some research, knowing I had spent little if any time in NW Ireland, and having a friend from up there in County Donegal, I decided to hop a train and head for a little town outside of Sligo called Strandhill. I just love to visit small towns and, to be honest, it doesn't get much smaller than Strandhill. A great little beach/surfing village, it boasts two pubs, a burger shop, an ice cream stand, lots of places to rent a board, and some fantastic hikes.

Knocknarea; Maeve Trail; I started my hiking there with a climb from sea level to the top (1100 feet of elevation) of a small mountain that sits behind the village known as Knocknarea. If you start at the beach you walk through town for about 1.5 km before you start the hike through a farmer's field, up through a pine forest, up over 500 wooden stairs, and across the top of the mountain to the cairn at the top. The views are absolutely stunning! If you have a car you can also take the less traveled trail (Knocknarea; Rathcarrick) to the top on the back side of the mountain. This is more of a regular hiking trail without the steps. No matter which trail you take, try to head out on a clear day early in the morning if you want any solitude as this is a very popular hike. There are also two hikes from the boardwalk. One heads south the other north.

Culleenamore takes you south and east through Shelley Valley which is the most incredible sand dunes. Then once you get through the dunes it takes you out along the inlet back around to the beach and back to town. The sand dunes are crisscrossed with trails that will give you a nice view of the sea and the bay to the east. There are some rocks one has to cross along the beach on the way back to town but it's not too bad and super pretty. The wonderful thing is that most of the tourists will walk a bit, either along the rocks or through the dunes, but few make it to the bay to the east and even fewer make it to the inlet to the south. I recommend walking through the dunes first, then once you reach the bay hang a right and walk around the point to the inlet then back to town along the beach. Check the tides and try to reach the sea at low tide as it'll make it easier as the beach will be exposed instead of clambering over the rocks you can walk the edge of the water. I just loved this walk once I broke away from the other folks out walking that day. So much beauty, so much solitude.

Killaspugbrone: This walk, which takes you to the north along the Atlantic is also a really great hike. You'll go out along the ocean, out to a little point past the end of the airport runway to an old church and graveyard built right along the sea. You can then make your way back the way you came or continue on to the main road and back to town. If you're feeling extra froggy you could actually combine this walk with Knocknarea as you'll come out on the main road right at the entrance to the frontside trail to the summit. I loved all of these walks so much. There's just something special about where the mountains meet the sea. There's something special about this little town with seemingly so little to offer. But, its gift is giving one the ability to connect with the earth in all its boundless wonders. Take some time, take in the fresh, sea air, and enjoy a breathtaking hike along the shores of the Atlantic in the far-reaching Northwestern part of the Emerald Isle. You certainly won't forget it if you do.

Atop Knocknarea

http://gostrandhill.com/explore/hikes-walks/

Flam; The Enchanted Valley

There is something magical about this place. You see, it's not just one enchanted moment, mystical sunset, or spellbinding babbling brook. It's as if Mother Nature took a wand and sprinkled this valley with magical dust. It's in the way the crystal clear water runs unending over grey rocks and boulders that are as old as time. It's in the sound of the liquid as it babbles then roars as it makes its way out into the fjord which seems to sit ever patiently waiting for it to arrive. It's in the way the sun mixes with the wind and drifts through the fresh green leaves of the trees making them

dance, glimmer, and gleam; first twinkling yellow then shimmering back to forest green. It's in the way the sprinkling of yellow daffodils, which permeate the valley floor, fade; losing themselves in the far-reaching meadows. It's in the sound of the steel wheels on iron rails as the Flambana Express chugs down the tracks and into town. It's in the way the sheer cliffs reverberate the long shrill sound of the mighty train's whistle; at first echoing then slowly

disappearing into the Fjord. It's in the distant roar of the water falling from high above as the melting snow cascades down the mountainside. It's in the way the water on the cliffs shimmer in the afternoon sunshine; like tears of joy on its face because it knows how beautiful it is. It's in the smell of spring; fresh-cut grass, apple blossoms, and jasmine on fence posts which hangs in the breeze so thick you can taste it in the clean, cool mountain air. It's in the way dawn sneaks into your consciousness and you awake to the trilling of the songbirds; the music of the forest. Or maybe, just maybe, it's in the fact that mother nature is at her best when she looks upon this valley with her golden sunsets as if looking into her lover's eyes and knowing this is a love that lasts forever.

Key Summit

As always in the early days of planning any trip, as well as my trip to New Zealand, I had some rather hefty ideas. Originally I set out to hike three of the nine great walks that NZ had to offer. Again, as in the past, say back in Ireland when I also thought I could hike like 500 miles, I'd planned and bitten off more than I could chew. On this adventure, in the end, I hiked only one of the trails and sufficed to do day hikes thereafter. Key Summit was the healing salve for the wound created by having to give in to inclement weather and poor logistical planning which in the end, caused me to give up hiking those particular trails.
Have you ever read Of Mice and Men? Well, that was kind of how my trip up Key Summit went, but with a Hail Mary pass to win the Super Bowl at the end, along with me screaming from the top of the mountain, "I'm going to Disneyland!" The of Mice and Men reference is, "the best-laid plans of mice and men..." which basically just means; the universe has a funny way of mucking up your well-laid and well-intentioned ideas. My idea was to pick a brilliantly, clear day and head up to the summit early in the morning before every person on the planet ended up there as well. And so, away I went all chipper and positive. Go me! Until of course I got out into the mountains and realized that mountain weather is just a tad unpredictable, no matter what the weatherman says.

No matter. I had decided I'm going up that bloody mountain; fog, low clouds, rain or what have you be damned. So there I am hiking poles in hand, weaving my way up through the forest with fog as thick as, well, pea soup. Up the winding path, looking expectantly around each bend as if the blanket of fog would magically disappear, only to discover more fog, more clouds, and absolutely no view. In this, I must say I am not easily deterred. After about an hour, I finally cleared the tree line wherein the view was...nonexistent. However, not all was lost (no pun intended). I may not have had a stellar view of the countryside or whatever else was out there that I couldn't see, but now instead of the fog bank being just a nuisance, it turned into an entity all its own. It became a

living, breathing thing. I stood in awe of it. In awe of the way it swooped down across the mountain bog. Without the trees to impede its flow, it brushed past my face, leaving droplets of water in its wake. It smelled of the earth and the sky. You could see the mist heave and sigh as the wind carried it across the mountain bog. I was mesmerized. The clouds drifted across my skin, my eyelashes, my smile; my entire being was engulfed in Mother Nature herself. I closed my eyes and stood; happy to be in that moment, in that place, on that mountain. When my eyes opened, I gave one last glance at the passing mist, pulled myself away, and headed for the summit. As I made my final approach I decided if I had to stay on the top of that damn mountain all day to see SOMETHING I would. I didn't have to wait long. When it happened, it was as if the wind had finally had enough and came racing down the mountainside like an eagle after its prey. It lifted the clouds in one fell swoop. One singular moment in time I was engulfed in the grey and the next I was staring at vast, gigantic mountains that were so close it seemed as if I could reach out and touch

them with my fingertips. Soaring mountain peaks covered in the last snow of the season. Grey, towering rocks jutting out of the surrounding earth. Blue skies and white puffy clouds soared overhead. Birds flew higher than the peaks themselves. The sun sparkled, laughed, and kissed my cheeks with its warmth. I was enamored. I stood tall, hands on hips, feeling as if the world belonged only to me. I was alone, but not. The company I kept was Mother Earth and as always she shared with me her energy, her love, and her aura. Here happiness abides.

Water; The Thirsty Traveler

Let's take it back to the basics. Water. This, other than money, of course, is to me the most important thing while out traveling. Getting dehydrated can be a major issue whether traveling by plane, bus, train, or donkey. So let's talk water, shall we? How much and why that much!? Well, that depends on how long any particular leg of your journey is. But, let me be clear here; buying water for the budget traveler is taboo. It's expensive, so better to weigh yourself down and lighten the load as you go by drinking it than use your hard-earned money buying it. Be sure to hydrate the evening before a long trip as well. So, I carry at all times, no matter where I'm going or for how long (minus a trip to the store or pub, etc.) at the minimum, 2 liters (approx. 1/2 gallon or 64 oz). If I leave to take a hike for several hours or go to catch a train for a several-hour ride, that is what I bring. I carry a 1.5-liter bottle in my day pack and a .50-liter bottle in a pocket on the side of my day pack. Using the bigger bottle to refill the smaller one and the smaller one for the convenience of being able to reach it at all times.

Throwaway VS Reusable: I actually have both. Because my reusable does not fit in the side pocket of my day pack but also doesn't carry enough to be a good backup, I use it for what I call overflow or excess water for longer journeys. While I've been out circumnavigating the globe, I've had some long trips over 20 hrs. In those cases, I need to carry more water. The reusable bottle I keep in my Rucksack is empty when I don't

need it. It doesn't take up much room and is extremely light when empty. It has been a real lifesaver on those long legs. Throwaway bottles; I buy, at the beginning of my trip, two heavy-duty, strong throwaway bottles of water. As I said earlier; a big one, say two quarts, and a small one of say 16 oz. I've been traveling now for 4 months and still have the same bottles I bought back in New Zealand. They have served me well. Like I said, be sure to buy ones that are made well and are nice and sturdy so they will last you the entire journey. In the event something does come up where you lose them or have to throw them away, then so be it; they can be easily replaced.

Water and Air Travel: You can carry your EMPTY bottles through security. If you've forgotten to do so, just empty them at security and keep them. Then fill them up once you pass security. If you have to go through secondary security and have already filled your bottles and they want to take them from you, be sure to tell them you want to keep the bottles. Then once you get to your gate they should have a place to refill them...again. This happened to me at the airport in Singapore. I had a secondary security check, forgot to ask for all my bottles back, and had an 11-hour flight in front of me. I only had one bottle (my reusable one) for the whole flight. I was flying a no-frills airline that did not provide free water. Needless to say, taboo or not, I dropped some cash for the water that day. It was that or die of thirst and I wasn't done adventuring just yet.
Is it potable?

I never risk it. Just ask. Every place I've been has always had signs posted for non-drinkable water. But it never hurts to ask. And as far as if you're out hiking; again, I rarely risk drinking directly from a river or stream without treating the water first. I just carry small tablets for purification purposes. Better safe than sorry. No telling when some dead animal might be up stream ya know?
So there you have it! The why's and why fors of water and travel. Now drink up and have a grand adventure!