Tag: Travel

Asheville Travel Journal
Travel

Asheville Travel Journal

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

I’m working out how to start this post to the soundtrack of Charles Wright’s “Express Yourself“, one of my complimentary souvenirs brought back from our second trip to Asheville, NC this past weekend. Our first trip to this funky little city back in February 2022 marked our second longest road-trip and the beginning signs of our old car’s drawn-out decline. There’s no apprehension quite like that you get parked outside of a Subway in Hagerstown, MD, four hours into an eleven hour drive when your means of transportation decides to play games with your psyche. We made it the rest of the way and back with a whole lotta hope and a couple visits to the Meineke Car Care Center in downtown Asheville and agreed that, next time, we’d fly.

We flew back from Asheville Sunday morning and left the suitcases, still packed, crowding the entryway of our condo when we got home. If you’re still living out of a suitcase, you are still on vacation; no? As I unpacked yesterday morning, pulling hiking clothes with mud-flecked ankles that shed the glitter of North Carolina mountain dirt on the entryway rug, I realized we left a part of us behind in the mountains and the mist, in the balsam and the rhododendron, in the blueberry brambles and the water eroded summits.

I wonder if the black bears can smell my fabric softener lingering on the trails. I wonder if they’ve walked in our boot prints yet as they await the promise of spring’s looming abundance.

Day 1: Downtown Asheville & South Slope Brewing District

We arrived in Asheville on Thursday in the mid-afternoon, intent on going to a brewery for lunch. Among many things Asheville does well, beer is one of its notable strengths. We headed to Terra Nova Beer Co. in the South Slope Brewing District for a brew and some Mission Pizza. The brewery took the place of the former Bhramari Brewing Company which we visited on our previous trip. I opted for the Svêtlý Ležák 12°, a Czech Pilsner, while Mike went for the Lumos Haze Hazy IPA, of which I stole many sips 😋. To eat, we chose Mission’s Sausage Giardiniera pizza, hefty Roman squares stacked with flavor and crispy, airy crust. More please!

More than satiated with pizza and beer, we headed up the hill to check into our hotel, The Cambria Hotel Downtown Asheville. The hotel was perfectly situated for exploring downtown Asheville, was very comfortable, and had the quickest mandatory valet parking I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. We savored the view of the mountains from our room for a very short while before deciding a nap might be necessary in order to be functioning human beings later in the evening.

Post-nap groggy and disoriented, we made ourselves get up, get out, and explore. Our next stop beckoned us back down the hill, Antidote Cocktail Lounge & Coffee Bar. The hostess seated us at a little cafe table by the window and we perused the leather bound cocktail menu while taking in the vintage apothecary setting. Red, velvet drapes were tied back from a window in the wall, revealing the distilling works of Chemist Spirits, next door.

I ordered the House of Leaves, intrigued by its holiday nostalgia inspiration, while Mike chose the Vieux Carré in memory of a past trip to Hotel Monteleone’s Carousel Bar in New Orleans. We sipped and chatted and lost track of time a little, then moved on in pursuit of dinner.

Just thinking about Chai Pani to write this post is making my mouth water and I know I am not even hungry. Indian Food is my favorite cuisine and Indian street food sounded like the right idea for dinner Thursday night (and maybe every night, but gotta try different things, ya know?).

Chai Pani was packed when we arrived. We added our name to the waitlist and saw it would be a while before we were seated and decided to pop around the corner to Burial Brewing Co., a favorite from our previous visit.

Burial’s beer is incredible and I also appreciate the place’s strong theming. From the toe tags on the tap handles to the landscaping weaponry on display, Burial leans heavily into the theme of death and eternal rest and yet the place has a bright, happy, natural vibe about it that packs down some of that creepy with the back of a shovel. I remembered the mural (or “the murial”, as one Reddit poster referred to it as and I think it should henceforth be known as such) from our previous trip. It depicts Sloth from The Goonies and Tom Selleck, all buddy-buddy, but Mike and I agreed that it is actually Sloth from The Goonies and my dad.

As we refreshed the waitlist for Chai Pani at one of the barrel tables in Burial’s outdoor tasting area, we shared a Shadowclock Pilsner and reminisced on our memories of the place from our previous trip and how cold it had been that day. With memories of a chilly, bygone, February day in our minds, we were next on the waitlist for Chai Pani and hustled back around the corner to the restaurant.

Chai Pani was bursting with warmth and the aroma of spices. The ceiling and windows were strung with marigold garlands, the walls- painted with turquoise, magenta, and goldenrod. Above the hostess stand climbed two Bengal tigers up an ombre wall. The restaurant was beautiful and I loved it already without even having seen the menu. I was determined to eat there for a different reason anyway, but the surroundings were a welcome addition.

According to an article by Kay West published on Eater.com, when Hurricane Helene hit Western North Carolina back in September 2024, amid much structural and emotional devastation, local business and residents were also left without power and potable water. World Central Kitchen arrived in the region within 48 hours after the storm and quickly partnered with local restaurants in order to establish access to clean water systems and feed the victims of the storm and the emergency responders who came to the region’s aid. Chai Pani was among many Asheville restaurants that prepared and distributed free meals for those in need in the wake of Helene’s devastation despite high costs of daily water deliveries and the storm’s heavy blow to regular restaurant operations. That, along with my preference for the cuisine, made eating there a high priority on my itinerary for this trip.

We filled our bellies with Aloo Tikki Chaat, Sloppy Jai, and Chili Chicken and washed it all down with Athletic Brewing’s Atlética Cerveza, which was decent but not my favorite Athletic brew. Afterwards, we rolled ourselves back up the hill to our hotel for a good night’s sleep.

Day 2: Montreat & Downtown Asheville

We parked our rental car in the small, upper lot of the Lookout Mountain trailhead in Montreat Friday morning and changed into our hiking boots. Mike walked over to the posted trail map and after a moment said, “Welp, I don’t love that.”

“What?”

I joined him in front of the trail map and he pointed at a paper plate someone had written on and tied to the board.

“That was yesterday,” said Mike of the reported black bear sightings at the summit, “And the day before.”

“Yeah,” I said, “I don’t love that either; I don’t love that one bit.”

We debated whether or not we should stay. The view was supposed to be one of the better ones in the area and we had been pretty lucky to get a parking spot at the trailhead, but the possibility of encountering a bear seemed too likely. We had seen a large group of women embark on a different hike from the lower parking lot, Rainbow Trail, and took an ounce of comfort in the thought of safety in numbers. Our decision was made. We left our trail snacks in the car.

Trekking through the trees and the rhododendron, turning our heads about like two large owls, we made our way along the Rainbow Trail. It was very green and we kept up a steady conversation, not wanting to seem sneaky to any potential bears in the vicinity. Thankfully, we did not cross paths with any bears, despite every dark object raising cause for speculation and our adrenaline levels. We got comfortable enough on the trail that we decided to take the spur that led up to the Lookout Mountain summit, after all. The trail to the summit was a steep, short climb, and had a decent amount of hikers on it scrambling up and down the rocks as we made our way up. The view did not disappoint, but all the same, we didn’t linger.

We reached the parking lot unscathed, relieved, and craving chicken and waffles. We got back in the car and headed back to the city to freshen up and get some brunch.

On our first trip to Asheville, we went to Tupelo Honey for brunch our first morning there and then went right back again the next day. There was no question where we would be eating brunch this time around. We asked to sit at the bar and ordered the chicken and waffles, avocado toast, and some Athletic Brewing Upside Dawn Golden Ales, still very relieved that we hadn’t encountered a bear on our hike.

After a nice little post-brunch nap, we set off to visit a brewery we’d skipped last time around, Green Man Brewery. We brought our beers up to the third floor and headed out onto the terrace. The sky was full of overlapping gray and purple clouds, but it was warm and the terrace was covered anyway. Charles Wright & the Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band played through the speakers. Ex-pressss Yourself! – Whatever you dooo-uhn– dooo it good-uhn! walking tiptoe on top of that swaggering bass line. It’s the kind of song you can’t help but move to. On top of that, it seemed like a good mantra for the eclectic, funky, colorful, denim-patched pocket of the world that Asheville is. Have I got anyone else listening with me yet, I wonder? So, let the horns do the thing they do y’all.

After another non-creepy visit to Burial Brewing and sharing an appetizer of their intriguing broccolini, we headed back up the hill to get some real dinner at Crêperie Bouchon. I ordered a glass of red wine and the Ma Poule savory crêpe. It did not disappoint.

After dinner, we walked a few blocks over to Sovereign Remedies, a low-lit cocktail lounge that I’d wanted to try last time, but we didn’t end up getting to. I liked Mike’s drink, the No. 27, better than mine and we ended up ordering a second to share because the place was cozy and relaxing and it just seemed like the right thing to do, okay?

Day 3: Blue Ridge Parkway & Asheville Yards

The Saturday forecast was the nicest for our trip and so we chose to do the higher elevation hikes that day instead of Friday. If we were going to hike up a mountain, we wanted to see vistas at the top, not just clouds. The roads leading up the mountain are also very winding and it is safer to take them when it’s not all foggy out.

Hurricane Helene wreaked some havoc on the Blue Ridge Parkway and sections of the National Park Service-governed road are still closed to the public. Since Mike had first researched the hikes we’d take, back in February, the sections we wanted to try had opened up again and so, we drove our little blue rental car up the winding roads and along the scenic parkway, passing by vistas on the way in hopes of snagging a parking space at the trailhead.

Graveyard Fields was first. It’s not as creepy as it sounds. According to signs posted near the trailhead, the name came from a natural phenomenon caused by a heavy windstorm the felled many trees and over time left the stumps and trees to rot and become overgrown with mounded dirt, giving the appearance of tombstones. Since a forest fire blazed through the valley in 1925, these tombstone-esque stumps are no longer there. The only actually creepy thing about Graveyard Fields to me was, once again, the fact that the area is home to a high population of black bears. Mike remembered that my backpack had a built in whistle on the strap. We gave it a try and it was nice and loud which gave us some sense of security, if only a little. But hey, you take what you can get on the trail.

The Graveyard Fields loop traversed muddy trenches, spongey boardwalks, and stream crossings and offered waterfall views. We started off towards the lower falls, the more impressive of the two large falls on the 3.2 mile trail. We wound our way through the rhododendron and the sparse blueberry bushes, along the packed down dirt and the mud, and across boardwalks and bridges to get to the lower falls view point. We were owls again, looking all around at frequent intervals, wary of rocks and dark tree stumps in the distance that were bear-shaped only in our minds.

Lower Falls

After spending a few minutes taking in the lower falls, we continued back along the trail toward the upper falls following the few and far between blue blazes that marked the way. There was a little rock scrambling involved to reach the upper falls and the sound of the rushing water was soothing, the mist- cool and refreshing on our overheated faces after the climb.

Upper Falls

The parking lot was more than full when we got back and we were happy we’d done at least one of the hikes we’d planned to. We hoped to be lucky enough to get a spot at the next trailhead that led up to Black Balsam Knob. Luck was on our side as we found a space along the road by the Art Loeb Trail Access that connected to where we wanted to go.

I think the Art Loeb Trail was my favorite of the hikes, albeit, the shortest. The trail was steep and cut through tall, fragrant, spruce trees, emerging out upon a water-eroded, rocky summit that’s surface resembled waves of glitter. The ground in the forest was red with damp, shed spruce needles and smelled fresh and earthy. There were many hikers in our view at all times, but not too many to take away from the enjoyment of the trail.

We joined up with the trail leading up to the Black Balsam Knob summit, climbing those sparkling waves and meandering dirt paths to reached the 360 degree views of the round-topped, Blue Ridge Mountains.

View from the Black Balsam Knob Summit

Winding our way back down the Blue Ridge Parkway, we pulled into every vista overlook to take in the view. It looked very similar from each one and we got to see Looking Glass Rock from multiple angles which was neat. With tired legs and feet and hungry bellies, it was time to head back to the city.

View of Looking Glass Rock

We got some lunch at Twisted Laurel, downtown, which we visited last time- pesto chicken pizza and a cauliflower curry bowl with fried chickpeas. Both were decent. We were excited for a concert we were going to at the new Asheville Yards later on that night, but we were tired from our earlier excursion into the mountains. Our daily vacation nap was in order if we wanted to make it through hours of standing later on.

After our little sojourn at the Cambria Hotel, we headed back out to squeeze in a downtown brewery before the show, DSSOLVR. We enjoyed our beers in the pleasant back patio area amid a little artist market that was going on.

We headed down the hill again, to the concert, the opener already playing when we arrived. I had never heard of Mipso before, but I’d listen to them now after enjoying a few of their songs. My favorite of the songs they played was probably “Coming Down the Mountain”, but I was very excited to see who we’d come to Asheville for.

After seeing Trampled by Turtles perform in Harrisburg, PA back in October, we knew we wanted to go to another show. When Asheville popped up on their tour schedule, we thought that would be a really fun experience and would probably have a fun crowd. We were right. The set list was full of familiar favorites and a couple of songs we didn’t know, but for the most part we sang along and moved to the rhythm of the strings. This time they played one of my favorites called “Burlesque Desert Window“, which I dare you not to shake your tail feathers to, if you give it a listen. 🦉

With growly bellies after the show, we headed a few blocks away for some late night bites at Daddy Mac’s. The restaurant was full of people in Trampled by Turtles tees and hats and whoever was running the music playlist caught up to speed pretty quick and put the boys on. We finished our meal to “Wait So Long” before settling up and heading back up the hill to our hotel for our last sleep of the trip.

To end this post, I’ll suggest Trampled by Turtles cover of Iris DeMent’s “Our Town” for some easy listening. I’m listening to it now as I type these final lines, thinking of Asheville and the good memories made there this trip and last. All I can do is look forward to the next visit and the next after that. The mountains have patience like no other and the water is slow to break them down.

“Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town, can’t you see the sun’s setting down on our town, on our town. Good night.” -Iris DeMent

Puerto Rico Travel Journal
Travel

Puerto Rico Travel Journal

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

We were greeted by ominous clouds upon landing at Newark Airport yesterday afternoon, a drastic change from our view upon waking up in Fajardo, Puerto Rico- turquoise water stretching from Puerto Chico out to Cayo Icacos, where we had walked in the sand just the morning before. It was a treat to swap the chill of New Jersey in February for the warm sunshine and breezes of Puerto Rico, even if only for a few days.

San Juan

We landed in Carolina on Thursday and drove to Old San Juan to take in the colors and the history of the city and its fortresses. Some of the streets in Old San Juan are narrow, cobbled, and steep. We parked with relief in a lot down by the port on the south side of Old San Juan and went in search of lunch. I had done some research beforehand on a few restaurant options, but found opening hours to be varied and inconsistent with my research. We stopped in at Café El Punto for a snack of some mariquitas de platano con guacamole and café frio. Both were delicious, but I was itching to get back outside to explore. I knew heading to Puerto Rico that restaurant service runs on “island time”, a slowed down version of regular time, and so it took a little while to actually get back outside.

The sun was hot and the breeze-warm as we headed up the hill along the winding streets, in the direction of Castillo San Felipe del Morro, perhaps better known simply as El Morro. The fort is perched overlooking the ocean and the Bay of San Juan in the northwesternmost tip of the island of Old San Juan. An expansive stretch of inviting green grass and blue sky welcomed us as we neared the fort.

It felt a little surreal to see the US National Parks emblem on the sign for El Morro, being on an island in the Caribbean, 1000 miles from the mainland. Puerto Rico, though a United States Territory, retains a unique charm and culture, not to mention a long-spanning history that is very unique to the island and very distinct from the influence of US mainland culture.

Inside the fortress’ thick, stone walls, tourists snapped photos and wove in, out, and through, from chamber to chamber, taking in the history of one of the most attacked fortresses in history due to San Juan’s attractive and strategic harbor location in the Caribbean. The walls were built to resist cannon fire and the fort developed a reputation for being unconquerable after evading invasion attempts by the English, Dutch, and British from the 16th to the 18th century. The fort fell to the hands of the Americans during the Spanish American War, ultimately succumbing due to updated capabilities of naval weaponry. El Morro was also used in later years as a US military base during WWI and WWII.

Nowadays, the fort is the perfect spot to take in the view of the turquoise and cerulean Atlantic waters crashing into white froth on the rocks below. Exhibits within the fort’s stone walls provide insight into what life was like for the Spanish soldiers stationed there in the 1700s and it was interesting to read about the history and wander the sunny plaza, sentry boxes (garitas), dim passageways, arched chambers, and original structures, one of which dated back to 1539.

From El Morro, we walked east along the waterfront, on the outskirts of La Perla. We stuck to the road with Castillo San Cristobal in our sights as our entry fee to El Morro included entry to the other fort as well. Castillo San Cristobal was less crowded and felt a little smaller than El Morro. It was here where we first encountered some island wildlife- a couple of iguanas, one cooling itself in the shade between the battlements and one basking in the sunshine.

With tired legs and the beginning aches of sunburn, we decided to head somewhere for lunch and a cold drink. We opted for St. Germain Bistro & Café. The island time was real at this restaurant, let me tell you my friends, and it took a looong time to even be acknowledged by the wait staff, let alone to get our drinks and food. More than one couple got up and left between our seating and when we paid our check due to the long wait for their order to be taken. The restaurant did not seem so busy and we marveled at the staff’s lack of interest in taking people’s food and drink orders. People leaving just seemed like business as usual, so I guess we were lucky to ultimately be served?

Service aside, my cocktail and our food were both delicious. I ordered a Whiskey Business which was refreshing and tasty and Mike got the locally brewed beer, Medalla. We shared a carrot dip and a refreshing avocado salad and then dug into our main dish which was a bell pepper stuffed with stewed lentils and topped with cheese, accompanied by rice and beans. It was so good and made the long wait feel almost worth it.

With full bellies and rain starting to sprinkle, we went back to the car and settled in for the drive over to the east coast to our Airbnb in Fajardo. As we made our way across the northern side of the island, we spotted advertisements and structures for many familiar restaurant chains. Puerto Rico takes American fast food culture to the next level. If you are a fast food fan living on the mainland, you will find pretty much all of the typical fast food offerings from home if you visit Puerto Rico, along with many additional highway-side local food vendors to choose from.

As we drove across the island, we noticed many dilapidated homes, businesses, and structures and wondered if the properties were abandoned remnants from the devastation caused by Hurricane Maria back in 2017. My memory of the island will likely be equal parts paradise and devastation as it was evident how much of a permanent toll the hurricane’s destruction took on the island and its residents.

Fajardo

We arrived at our Airbnb in Fajardo, a condo on an upper floor of an apartment building that overlooked Puerto Chico. The view was breathtaking and brought us quickly back to a state of paradise.

Vieques

Fajardo proved to be an excellent location for our adventurous itinerary over the next couple of days. We started the day on Friday with a boat tour to the island of Vieques for snorkeling and some relaxing walks on the beach. We made the mistake of sitting on the second level of the boat on the way out of the marina and got walloped with salty spray for the forty-five minute rollicking journey to Vieques, a truly romantic experience to kick off our Valentine’s Day.

The boat ride put all of my fear of snorkeling out of mind until we reached the snorkeling spot, that is. I was a little afraid to get into the open water after one of the other people on our tour asked one of the guides if there would be sharks. “This is the ocean man,” he responded, “There’s anything: treasure, migrants, anything!” So that meant there might be sharks. My mom being a big fan of Jaws, I am not a big fan of swimming with sharks. I wasn’t gonna chicken out though, so I put on my mask, slipped on my flippers and descended into the water.

There’s something that happens when you are living in the moment of a thrilling experience. Fear subsides and intrigue takes over. Once my head was under water, I was fine. There is something so calming in the pressure and the isolation. There is depth and cold and Darth Vader sounds coming from the snorkel, and everything’s ok somehow. I saw a sea turtle laying in the sand and watched for a while hoping it was alive. I came up to get my bearings.

“Want to see a sting ray?” said the guide.

He could have said, Want to see a shark? and my answer would have been the same.

“Yeah!”

The rush of the moment takes over and that’s when the real living starts. It just doesn’t happen often so you have to take advantage of it when it does.

We anchored by Playa Punta Arenas on the northwestern tip of Vieques. The beach was nearly empty except for our group. The sand was gold and backed up to green jungle. The water was turquoise and clear and I could see my feet and a few fish swimming nearby. There was a lunch of sandwiches and pasta salad on the boat and an open rum cocktail bar plentiful with pina coladas. The paradise was really making its mark and the coconut was cool and sweet.

Luquillo

We returned to the main island and headed to Luquillo to peruse the food kiosk offerings there. After walking the length of the kioskos, we decided we’d try La Parilla and Nativa Latin Cuisine. At La Parilla, we each enjoyed a cold Medalla, a beer brewed in Puerto Rico, and ordered a carne frita meal to share. The pork was tender and delicious and the view wasn’t half bad.

At Nativa Latin Cuisine, we had our second island time experience that was worth the wait. We ordered mofongo, a savory delight and Puerto Rican staple made of mashed plantains. Ours came topped with criollo sauce and chicken and let’s just say we crushed the whole thing even though we weren’t hungry after La Parilla. Yum!

Icacos

The next day promised more adventure. We took another snorkeling tour and learned our lesson from the day before. We sat at the front of the boat this time, well into the covered section and stayed dry as the people in the back of the boat and up top got soaked. It shouldn’t feel good, but what can I tell you?

The second snorkeling adventure took us to a reef near the island of Icacos. We saw many more fish on this trip, but no larger creatures. It was cool to swim right up to the reef, although the reef, unfortunately, appeared to have suffered the effects of coral bleaching. After our guides called us back to the boat, we headed closer to the beach in Icacos and swam to shore to walk on the white sand.

Were it not for the crowded, party-like atmosphere at 11:00AM, I think I would have preferred this beach to the beach in Vieques from the day before. Remoteness has its own charms, though, so I’m happy we got to do both. A couple of pina coladas and coconut mojitos later, and it was time to head back to Fajardo.

El Yunque

Our next planned activity was a kayaking tour of the bioluminescent bay, Laguna Grande, later that evening so we had some time to add something else to our plans. We opted to drive out to El Yunque National Forest, the only tropical rainforest in the US. In El Yunque, we made a few brief stops including the Visitor’s Center, a kebob stand for a hasty lunch, La Coca Falls, and Torre Yokahu. If you only have time for one, I suggest Torre Yokahu as it offers impressive 360 degree views of the forest.

Laguna Grande

Ok, so remember the thing about the fear of sharks from earlier in this post and it going out the window due to the thrill of the moment? Well, I also have this thing about the dark. In the pursuit of adventure, fear must be cast aside sometimes and discomfort-embraced. This is what I told myself as we kayaked along the narrow canal through the pitch black mangrove after dark on our way to Laguna Grande, one of only five bioluminescent bays in the world.

We kayaked single file along the canal, guided only by a small red light on the back of each of the kayaks in front of us. We could hear the splash of paddles in the water and the coqui frogs singing in the tangled trees all around us and, somehow, I was not afraid anymore. It was beautiful- a line of dotted red gliding through the water on the way to the lagoon. Real life seems unreal sometimes, I thought.

We arrived at the lagoon and our guides instructed us on how to best view the bioluminescent effect in the water. The bioluminescent effect is a defense mechanism of the dinoflagellate plankton in the water and is activated when the plankton are disturbed by movement. The moon was pretty bright the night of our tour, but we still got to see a sparkling effect when moving our hands and paddles in the water. The tour also provided dark tarps that we covered ourselves with in order to better see the effect. It was magical and strange and probably looked like a weird ritualistic practice to the unknowing eye, but it was worth paddling through the dark to get a glimpse of the sparklers in the water.

After our tour, we changed quickly in the car to make our dinner reservation. Turns out we didn’t need to rush after all, though, as the host decided our reservation was too late in the day and lectured us on how we shouldn’t have made a reservation so late (even though it was available and not even the latest reservation available). They said they would still “help us” and we could stay, but we decided we didn’t need that favor on our last night after the lecture already ruffled our feathers a bit. Instead, we went to the local grocery store, Pueblo, and picked up a bottle of wine and a few things to make a delicious dinner of our own. It ended up being a fun and relaxing way to end our last night in Puerto Rico, so I’m almost happy for the little hiccup.

On our final morning, the usual wind present on our Airbnb’s balcony was still and we enjoyed some leftovers from our homemade meal the night before while sitting outside, soaking up the beautiful view one last time.

I enjoyed our trip, but was happy to head back to the airport and home to New Jersey. Even though the forecast for the evening promised cold and rain, there’s just something so inviting about home after being away. When the wheels touched down in Newark, I heard some passengers on the plane voicing their disappointment as they looked out the window, but I was looking forward to a hearty dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants. Something about getting away makes home more special. It disturbs the regular routine for a while and makes it sparkle brighter, even in the dark.

Travel

Molasses in January: A Savannah Winter Travel Journal

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

When we planned our trip to Savannah, GA for this past weekend, we looked forward to slowing things down and enjoying a winter retreat with warmer weather than we’ve been having at home. We planned on long, brisk, scenic walks through the Hostess City, beneath shaded canopies of live oaks draped in Spanish moss. We didn’t even imagine that the snow from days earlier in the week would have any impact our plans to explore.

Until last week, it hadn’t snowed in Savannah in seven years, according to many of the locals we encountered there. In our Uber ride from the airport to the historic district, we learned that the airport had only re-opened two hours before we landed, after being closed for three days. The streets and sidewalks were frosted with ice and snow, left to crust over, slick and perilous for tourists and local pedestrians determined enough to brave them.

We knew we’d slow things down in Savannah this past weekend, we just didn’t realize how much.

“Little, tiny, baby steps,” said Mike as we shuffled our way from the corner across from Wright Square to the front door of our Airbnb. The street was white and lined with parked cars molded to the curb with solidified snow. We saw people trying to dig out the sidewalks in front of their homes and businesses with metal, pointed-spade, garden shovels and leaf blowers and marveled at the unexpected culture shock of this city in the snow.

I checked my email and learned that our Restaurant Week dinner reservation had been canceled by the restaurant due to the road conditions, but was prepared with some alternatives. We got settled in our Airbnb, a beautiful one-bedroom apartment across from Wright Square and figured out our new plan for the evening.

Once we were settled, we headed out to brave the icy sidewalks in pursuit of cocktails and dinner. Our first stop was Alley Cat Lounge, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar located on a lane between Ellis and Telfair Square. We perused the Alley Cat Rag, a newspaper-style menu where the drink options are disguised as catalogue advertisements. I opted for the Improved Whiskey Cocktail, which tasted like an old fashioned but smelled like black gumdrops due to the touch of Absinthe it contained.

After cocktails, we little, tiny, baby-stepped our way south to The Public Kitchen & Bar on Bull & Liberty Street for a late night dinner. We were seated in a mid-century modern dining room with geometric pendant lamps that made the hygge-fan-girl in me very pleased. The food at The Public was probably the best of our trip and it had some serious contenders; let me tell you. We enjoyed the Autumn Salad, the Seafood Mac (a creamy, cheesy delight packed with lobster, shrimp, and scallops), and the Lamb Burger (our favorite single food item of the entire trip, a perfectly cooked and spiced burger paired with goat cheese and sweet pepper jam-take me back!).

After dinner, we packed up our leftovers and headed back out into the cold night. We slipped and slid our way back up Bull Street and stumbled across Chippewa Square. Chippewa Square was used as a filming location in the movie, Forrest Gump, and served as the backdrop to the bench where Forrest sits with his suitcase throughout multiple scenes in the movie. While the bench is in a museum now, we still paused to snap a picture only to learn that we had taken the photo from the wrong side of the park. We remedied this error, however, the next evening.

The next morning, I checked my email and learned that our tour of Bonaventure Cemetery for that afternoon had been canceled and that the cemetery would be closed until Monday due to the winter road conditions. We did not end up making it out to the cemetery on this trip as our timing did not allow for a Monday visit. Our morning walking tour of the city, however, was still on, so we headed around the corner to meet up with our tour group.

Our guide from Genteel & Bard Tours was a conservatory-trained actor and certified tour guide who had a contagious enthusiasm for the history of the city. He led us around the historic district, sticking to soft snow or the sunny side of the street as much as possible to allow for safer walking conditions, but we still got to skate around a little bit as we learned more about Savannah’s historic figures and the city’s design.

Among the homes featured on our history tour, was the Green-Meldrim house off of Madison Square. The home served as the headquarters for General Sherman, of the Union Army, during the winter of 1864-1865. According to our guide and a plaque in Madison Square, Sherman met with 20 leaders from Savannah’s African-American churches at the house, under Lincoln’s orders, resulting in his issuing the Special Field Orders No. 15, which reserved coastal land in the south to be settled by freed families of enlisted freedmen. The order was in place only for a short while though, unfortunately, only to be revoked by President Andrew Johnson following President Abraham Lincoln’s death.

Our tour continued south, past scenic Jones Street and through Monterey Square. We learned about the significance of what local Savannahians apparently refer to as “The Book”. The Mercer-Williams House was once home to Jim Williams, an influential player on the chessboard of Savannah Society, in his day. Williams held political sway and significant policy influence by means of invitations (or lack thereof) to his lavish, Saturday parties. Jim Williams was also tried four times for the same murder, the story of which is the basis for John Berendt’s novel Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

We continued to wind our way through the slippery streets of the historic district and stopped in front of a derelict, Georgian house that was purchased by the owners two years ago and partially demolished, losing the symmetry iconic of Georgian-style architecture. Further renovation on the property must abide by the city’s strictly enforced historic preservation rules. The house overlooks beautiful Taylor Square, so I suppose the renovation will have been worth the wait, once completed.

With one more view of beautiful Jones Street, our tour ended in Lafayette Square, flanked on two sides by The Cathedral Basilica of St. John the Baptist and the Andrew Low House, once home to Juliette Gordon Low, the founder of the Girl Guides and the Girl Scouts.

We took some time for a short rest back at our Airbnb, hoping that the sunny day would work its magic on the icy city and then headed back out for some more views and adventure.

We made our way east across the city and up towards the Savannah riverfront, encountering Savannah’s “Waving Girl” statue of Florence Martus and her dog. We would learn more about her on our Savannah Riverboat Cruise the next day, where our guide told the story that Florence lived on a remote island with her brother, a lighthouse keeper, following their parents’ early death. She would wave to every ship that passed the island, calling out to sailors to ask where they had sailed from and where they were heading. She even trained her dog to wake her up so she wouldn’t miss a passing ship. The tour guide also told us that Florence Martus’ funeral was the most attended in Savannah’s history due to her renown among the maritime community in the area.

We headed up to our next stop for some drinks and lunch, Bar Julian, a place recommended to us by our Airbnb host as having the best rooftop view of the city. I ordered a Mint Julep and we shared a Kafta flatbread that was absolutely delicious. The views were pretty beautiful, but I think my favorite views of Savannah were smaller scale, and from much lower heights, beneath the towering oaks in the city’s plentiful squares.

For dinner later on, we headed to Wright Square Bistro and enjoyed delicious and plentiful fare of mushroom lasagna and steak frites, along with some house red wine and good conversation. It was one of those dinners that I feel like I’ll remember for a long time because of the whole experience and how relaxed I felt in the restaurant’s cozy, unfussy environs. I was enjoying myself so much that I forgot to take any pictures.

Still full from dinner the previous night, we set out the next morning with a goal to see every Square in Savannah and to get a better glimpse of Forsyth Park. Our guide on our walking tour the previous day seemed less than thrilled with Forsyth Park’s centerpiece, a beautiful fountain that the city ordered out of a catalogue and installed in 1858. I still thought it was pretty beautiful and wanted a photo with it.

Our appetites returned in full force and we walked north in pursuit of brunch at The Collins Quarter downtown. We were seated in a cozy room downstairs and our server told us that we couldn’t go wrong with anything we ordered. Based solely on what we ordered, he was correct. I opted for the breakfast sandwich and a spiced lavender mocha. I think it may have been the best coffee of my entire life.

After brunch, we took a river boat cruise on the Savannah River aboard the Georgia Queen and learned about Savannah’s claim to fame as the third largest port in the US (if you combine LA and Long Beach; 4th if you don’t). We learned the history behind the Florence Martus statue and passed by Old Fort Jackson during a cannon fire reenactment. Our guide even pointed out some dolphins in the river and I managed to snap a photo of one in the last photo pictured here! Eep!

Our adventure continued on at the American Prohibition Museum, an impressively-themed tribute to a weird time in history. As we wandered through the lifelike dioramas and displays, including a whiskey gutter, moonshine operation, mob-hit scene, and speak-easy, we wondered just how drunk America was all the time to make the movement seem sane to the “Dries”, those in support of Prohibition. From the samples of propaganda on display throughout the museum, the sway of the media seemed clear, but from the artifacts on display and loopholes detailed in the information plaques, so too was the nation’s affinity for drink.

After the American Prohibition Museum, we were in need of a drink or two. We headed over to Service Brewing Co. and ordered a flight to share. Each sample we tried was excellent, so I imagine it would be hard to go wrong with any of their offerings.

We continued on to the lobby of the JW Marriott in the new Plant Riverside District, it having been suggested by our Airbnb host and our riverboat tour guide as something worth seeing. The biggest draw to the Marriott’s lobby is the huge, chrome, dinosaur suspended from the ceiling followed by the fossils and some massive geodes on display. We found the plaques associated with the display items to be a little pretentious, and didn’t feel the need to stay long. I think we may just be spoiled having lived in New York for years. I have never seen anything quite so impressive as the fossils on display in the American Museum of Natural History, so a chrome dinosaur isn’t gonna do it for me. Someone else might think it’s really cool though, so take what I say with a grain of salt and enjoy as you will.

The next morning, before leaving what is now among my list of favorite places I have visited, we stopped to grab me one one spiced lavender mocha before heading off to the airport for our flight home. Savannah is over for us for now, but it was more beautiful than I dreamed it would be and I look forward to going back someday. Perhaps we’ll walk slow again upon the snow beneath the oaks some other January to come. For now, I have my memories to retrace our icy steps.

Travel

Pennsylvania Getaways: Gettysburg

Beth DeFries3 Comments

The sun is still sleeping as I sit down to write this morning and I’ve been up for a while. It’s raining substantially for the first time in a long time and with recent water restrictions issued by the state, New Jersey certainly needed this.

I’m sipping on steaming Earl Gray from my favorite mug at the kitchen table while cooking a batch of steel cut oats on the stove. I hear them bubble and breathe behind me under my lax supervision and am already dreaming of spoonfuls swirled with hints of creamy peanut butter and real maple syrup.

I have been trying to think of how best to start this post for a few days now, with no luck. The words evaded me, creeping in my wake like the shadow of a silent army whose next move I couldn’t predict. Sometimes first lines attack by surprise and facing them becomes urgent.

This one’s about three days in July of 1863.

Growing up, I visited Gettysburg a few times with my family, my dad and my uncle being huge history buffs, but I was never quite old enough to appreciate the sobering significance of the town’s quaint streets and picturesque scenery: rolling hills dotted with clusters of trees, farms, orchards, rocky outcrops, and majestic monuments. This time felt different, however, and I went in more prepared to experience the weight of the place.

Driving through downtown Gettysburg on a Friday evening in early November, it wasn’t obvious that the town was much different from any other historic location we’d visited in the eastern US. The streets were lined with small businesses, shops, restaurants, and colorful, old buildings. The red brick sidewalks around Lincoln Square were packed with tourists on their way to dinner, drinks, or an evening walking tour, little shopping bags swinging in hand with purchases from specialty boutiques and souvenir shops from among the town’s plethora of offerings.

We continued on our drive down Baltimore Street to our hotel, Best Western Gettysburg, located in the historic part of town, across the street from the battlefield. On our way, we passed more historic looking buildings mixed in amongst even more gift shops, museums, art galleries, ghost tour companies, and taverns.

“That’s where we’re going tonight,” I said to Mike as we passed Dobbin House Tavern, gesturing to a stone house on our right, set back a little from the road. Each of its colonial style windows flickered with inviting candlelight and I found myself looking forward to dinner. I knew I had been there before as a kid, but couldn’t picture the inside other than a vague memory of a historical diorama of an underground railroad refuge.

We checked into the hotel, got settled in our room, and met my sister and her husband back down in the lobby. The restaurant was only a short walk from the hotel, but it was chilly outside and the cozy tavern, its waiting area appointed with a huge hearth and rustic, colonial furnishings, offered us much appreciated respite from the wind. We found my dad standing near the host stand among a small crowd of others waiting to be seated and he greeted us with his usual enthusiasm and urged us to go check out the secret hideout that was partway up a narrow staircase off the waiting room.

He looked around the little waiting area and said, “I don’t know where mom went.” We didn’t know either and had not seen her outside. While my dad went out to solve that mystery, the rest of us went to check out the underground railroad display. The crawlspace was even smaller than I remembered and contained life-size mannequin depictions of people in hiding within its cramped confines, representing a stop on their harrowing journey to escape enslavement, one fraught with peril and risk of capture at any turn, even north of the Mason-Dixon Line.

It turned out my mom had been looking for us outside along Baltimore Street, but we had come in from the road that ran behind the tavern instead and did not initially cross paths. Once reunited, it wasn’t long before a woman dressed in colonial attire summoned us all to follow her and seated us in the main dining room, which had a cozy, refined atmosphere with low-lit overhead fixtures and wooden tables adorned with blue and white dinnerware and candlesticks sheathed in hurricane glass.

We enjoyed the hearty tavern fare and good conversation, a highlight of which was when my dad dropped his voice to an awed whisper to tell us, “This is the oldest house in Gettysburg.” According to the tavern’s website, the house was built in 1776 and was the home of Reverend Alexander Dobbin and his family. Guided tours of the house are available for those looking to delve deeper into the home’s history as well as that of the Dobbin family. We, however, opted only to dine on this visit.

While at dinner, we established some plans to take a bus tour of the battlefield and visit the Gettysburg National Military Park Museum and Cyclorama the next day. After finishing our meal, we all headed back to the hotel and turned in for the night to decompress from the long drive and to get some rest. While the room was very comfortable, I won’t pretend like I wasn’t a little worried I’d wake up in the middle of the night to find the ghost of a civil war soldier hovering by the foot of the bed. Pushing my irrational fears of phantom soldiers aside, I slept well and, needless to say, my worries did not materialize.

I’ve been to many a historic place with my family, but we frequented Gettysburg more than others and because of this, I’ve always known that it holds a unique sort of charm for people fascinated by American history- and rightly so. The streets of the town and its surrounding farms, fields, and woods were, after all, the site of the bloodiest battle fought on American soil.

The bus tour was fine. In hindsight, we should have done the museum first and then the tour, so that’s on me for booking our combo tickets in the wrong order. Personally, I think I would opt for a self-guided driving tour next time due to personal humiliation reasons. Our guide made lots of attempts at jokes that didn’t really land and it felt like being in some mobile, history class detention where the punishment was rapid-fire, pop quiz questions asked aloud at random, for which you paid $46 for the study material, but it didn’t arrive on time.

I’ll explain further. To my horror, I was called on by the tour guide as we stood overlooking Oak Hill and Ridge, after he gave a scenario during which my mind inconveniently wandered. I’ll relive it for you all now in hopes of processing it better myself.

“Cape May!” barked the guide, “What’s your name?”

“Beth,” I said, knowing I’d answered that question correctly, at least, as my panic began to rise. I instantly regretted wearing a hat with words on it, wondering just what on Earth he had been saying a few moments ago.

“What do you do if you’re the leader of the Confederate Army in this situation?”

One- I got nothin’. I completely froze and forgot how to speak and was very quickly turning into a Jersey tomato.

Two- Such a scenario would never happen in real life both due to my own moral compass and my leadership inexperience.

Three- Mike piped up behind me with the helpful suggestion of, “Free the slaves,” which I concluded was the only correct answer, regardless of what the guide was actually looking for.

The real answer was apparently “shoot”, but for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you the context behind it.

After the bus tour was over, I buried my recent tussle with shame deep down with all the other fun stuff and we grabbed a quick lunch at the cafe in the Visitor’s Center. Next, we queued up for our timed entry to The Gettysburg Cyclorama film and painting. My mom was most excited for this part and I was eager to see the painting with the intriguing name that she kept mentioning.

The film portion of the experience, narrated by Morgan Freeman, was informative and interesting and provided a summary and timeline of the events and circumstances that led to the start of the American Civil War up through the battle of Gettysburg. It discussed the deeply rooted economic and moral issues upon which the elite of the American south had founded and sustained their fortunes: the issue of “Slave Labor” vs. “Free Labor”, free labor meaning that the laborer was free to earn income from the fruits of their own labor.

After the short film, we were led up to The Cyclorama, a striking, 360 degree painting depicting Pickett’s Charge. The massive oil painting is the work of French cyclorama painter, Paul Philippoteaux, and his team of assistants, and provides a unique insight into the experience of the battlefield on July 3, 1863, the final day of the Battle of Gettysburg. In more recent years, sculptural installations have been added in addition to the accompanying light and audio show and narration to further immerse the viewer in the painting.

The experience of viewing this impressive work will surely move any observer and garner their attention for the scale and chaos of the final day of the bloodiest battle in history fought on American soil that squashed General Lee and the Confederate Army’s final hopes of overtaking the northern states. The artist and his team visited and studied the battlefield nineteen years after the battle took place and gathered information using guidebooks, maps, and interviews with veterans in order to depict the scene with accuracy. If you go to Gettysburg, do not pass up the opportunity to see this incredible piece.

Armed with a visual of the battlefield in action, we headed into the museum. The Gettysburg Foundation website recommends allotting two hours for this museum, but if you are really interested in all of the details, civilian accounts, and original artifacts, it would be wise to allow yourself much more time. A few standouts from the museum for me were:

  • A photo of Gettysburg taken a few days before the battle, picturing an idyllic, quiet town
  • General Lee’s modest encampment cot, medical chest, and field desk
  • Accounts of the days leading up to the battle, the battle itself, and the horrors of its aftermath, heavily left to the Gettysburg civilians to clean up and manage.
  • The story of Gettysburg’s “Citizen Hero”, John Burns, a veteran of The War of 1812 who followed the sounds of the battle from his porch to join the Union Army and got captured and subsequently released by the Confederate Army
  • A room dedicated to President Abraham Lincoln’s famed Gettysburg Address, which he finished writing while staying at the David Wills House in Gettysburg off what is now Lincoln Square, before delivering it on the battlefield in November 1863.

Three days in Gettysburg led to an estimated 51,000 casualties across both sides and one civilian death- a young woman named Jennie Wade, who was shot through two doors in her sister Georgia’s kitchen while preparing dough for bread to help feed the Union Army. She was originally buried in the front yard of her sister’s home with the help of Union soldiers, and has since been relocated to the Evergreen Cemetery, the site of Lincoln’s delivery of The Gettysburg Address, and not far from her beau, Jack Skelly.

On our final day in Gettysburg, we revisited some of the sites covered on our bus tour and some, surprisingly not. We drove up to Little Round Top and walked to the lookout to take in the beautiful, sprawling view of the fields and hills below and afar. Below to our left was the outcrop known as Devil’s Den. We walked down the hill to explore there further and vague memories of the place stirred in me at the sight of children running around and playing on and through the boulders. My first memories of Gettysburg from when I was a little kid involve climbing on cannons with my cousins and sister and wanting McDonalds. And they’d let that kid lead the Confederate Army? I don’t think so.

Gettysburg will play tricks on you. At times, it can be easy to forget that you are standing on what is essentially a sprawling cemetery because it is a place full of natural beauty, not to mention it has also been heavily influenced by commercial tourism over the years. But then there are moments when the picture becomes clearer: when you can imagine the drums and the cannon fire, the shots and the battle cries of soldiers charging ahead into uncertain fates, where you can smell the stench of fear and overwhelming loss in the air, see the grass stained purple with hot blood, soldiers and civilians collecting the fallen in the aftermath, following the muffled utterances of the wounded still holding on.

There is never a monument far to remind visitors of the immense sacrifice on both sides during this battle. Our tour guide told us that Gettysburg is one of the most decorated battlefields in the world and that wherever monuments were erected indicated where those soldiers fought during the battle. It was sobering and weighty as I knew it would be and I’m glad we went back together.

For our last stop on our trip, we visited the grounds of President Eisenhower’s farm. The house was closed for the season, but strolling around between the buildings and the helipad ended our trip on a lighter note than the image of craggy entrapment that Devil’s Den conjured up for me. I remember writing a book report on President Eisenhower in the fourth grade and I’ll just say that I didn’t do very well on it. I hope you will enjoy this post more than Ms. Masters enjoyed my book report. This concludes my Pennsylvania posts, so mourn or celebrate that as you will and, as always, thanks for reading.

Travel

Pennsylvania Getaways: Harrisburg & The Poconos

Beth DeFries5 Comments

Hey friends! For today’s post, I am going to continue our little adventure through scenic Pennsylvania. We’ll make a brief stop in the state’s capital for some good music before visiting a region renowned for its access to the great outdoors. So, go grab some tea or coffee and get settled in a comfy place. Ready? Ok! Let’s get started.

Harrisburg

Our stop in Harrisburg in mid-October was brief, our long journey there flanked by picturesque scenery, fall foliage, and political campaign billboards for the, then, upcoming Presidential election. Pennsylvania is a “battleground” state in the political sense and the increase in campaign signage for both major political parties compared to New Jersey’s amount was not subtle.

Anyway… back to Harrisburg. Equipped with two Trampled by Turtles concert tickets, a new car that actually works (RIP Silver Bullet), and a hotel reservation downtown, we were lured by the music. The city welcomed us with a majestic view of the state capitol building and complex on our way, which, in hindsight, we probably should have paid a dedicated visit to as it was a spectacle of its own.

Lodging

Judging from the map, the Hilton Harrisburg looked like it would be a close enough walk to the concert venue, XL Live. We checked into the hotel after navigating the labyrinthine parking situation and spent a longer than usual amount of time at check-in due to a friendly reservation agent who was very nice and even gave us some complimentary bags of chocolates upon checking in. As a frequent Hilton guest and Silver member, the chocolates were new, but were definitely a nice touch! We checked into our room, changed for the show, and got to work hunting down a cozy spot for a quick dinner.

Dinner

McGrath’s Pub fit the bill and was a short walk from our hotel. On our walk there through downtown Harrisburg, on a Friday evening- mind, it seemed a little strange to us that there were not many people out. Still, the pub was a welcoming respite after our long drive and we snagged a couple open seats at the bar and ordered some drinks and dinner. McGrath’s had quick, friendly service, a good draft selection, and standard pub fare, which is just what we were looking for. I also enjoyed the warm, comfortable ambiance, pretty stained glass windows behind the bar, and the sculptural light fixture above us that was adorned with various retired tap handles.

The Show

After dinner, we made a quick stop to stow our leftovers in our room and then headed right back out to walk to XL Live. Harrisburg is, perhaps, just not a walking city. On our twenty minute walk to the venue, we only saw three people and also had to turn on our flashlights for one particularly dark section. Still, despite the somewhat eerie walk, the closer we got to the venue, the more excited I got to see the show! We made an agreement to take a rideshare back to our hotel if we didn’t see other people walking toward downtown after the concert and then got in line to go inside the venue.

Walking into XL Live reminded me of walking into the Starland Ballroom at sixteen to see The Academy Is… for the first time. The hot static of nostalgia tingled my neck and made me smile in the way one might when they just can’t help it. I was excited to finally see a band that I’d been listening to for over a decade, hear songs that have been both entertainment and medicine, see the musicians who made it all happen with their calloused fingertips and Minnesota influences. Mike grabbed us some PBRs (or Pabst for those who call it by its other name) from the bar as the opener finished their set and then we wormed our way to the center of the crowd to get a better view of the stage.

Trampled by Turtles (Mandolin player, Erik Berry, all the way on the left)

The show was everything I hoped it would be and more. We were happy to hear a lot of the band’s older material along with the new material they were touring, from their EP, Always Here. If you haven’t experienced bluegrass or think you don’t like the genre, I suggest giving this band a listen. The talent can’t be ignored, Dave Simonett’s lyrics are poetry, and it’s evident that the guys are just having a lot of fun performing together. Some particular highlights for us to hear live were Kelly’s Bar and Wait So Long, though perhaps the most mesmerizing spectacle of all was the mandolin player’s hair blowing dramatically in the breeze from the fan at his feet- simply breathtaking.

After the show, more than three people were walking back towards downtown so we chose to walk too. Energized by the show and wanting to stretch the night, we headed back to our tried and true McGrath’s in want of one more drink before turning in. I opted for an Old Fashioned to compliment the evening’s spirit of nostalgia. It didn’t disappoint.

The Delaware Water Gap & The Poconos:

We left Harrisburg the next morning, having done what we’d come to do, and made our way back east to the Mount Minsi trailhead on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware Water Gap. The parking at the trailhead was crowded and there were no spots until about ten minutes after we arrived. It was what we expected since we did not arrive very early in the morning, like most trail guides recommend. After securing a coveted spot, we enjoyed a little lunch to fuel up for our hike- some Wawa hoagies and fruit, then laced up our hiking boots and got started on the trail, doing our best to decipher the mostly-downloaded trail guide as we did to make sure we were headed in the right direction.

We have wanted to hike Mount Minsi since hiking its neighbor, Mount Tammany, across the Delaware back in 2021. It’s funny how sometimes you just don’t quite get around to doing the things you’ve been wanting to do, isn’t it? Well, it felt good to finally get around to this and to be in good enough shape to complete the hike comfortably. Our adventure up the little mountain took us to a couple of scenic view points- one of which mirrored the lookout on Mount Tammany (pictured above) that we had climbed to three and a half years earlier. We also wound our way through multiple rhododendron tunnels and up and down a few minor rock scrambles. We saw exactly one snake, which was one more snake than I had hoped to see, once we were almost done with the hike and that provided a good little startle. We hopped back in the car, freeing up our spot for another one waiting and headed out for yet another bout of hiking elsewhere.

Bushkill Falls

I’ll lead off by saying I didn’t know exactly what to expect pulling into the parking lot of Bushkill Falls. The entrance to the trail had an off-brand theme park vibe that I felt a little resistant to at first, being in a great outdoors mindset for the day. There were multiple buildings, among them a ticket office, visitor’s center, souvenir shops, an apparel shop, fudge kitchen, snack bar, playground, maze, picnic area, and restrooms. There was a silhouette cutout of Bigfoot by the ticket office, proposing the challenge to observant visitors to find two others like him along the trails. The place was also swarmed with families. Had it been a mistake to come to this woodsy Disneyland among the trees? The cost to access the trails to the waterfalls seemed pretty steep at first at $20 each. I think I went in feeling prepared for it not to live up to the price and then I saw the staircases and it all made sense.

Every day at Bushkill Falls is leg day, my friends. The park has an extensive system of winding, wooden staircases and bridges that provide access to beautiful views of the park’s multiple waterfalls. These staircases must require constant maintenance, which explained the ticket price right of the bat, and even made twenty bucks seem like a bit of a bargain.

The grandest of the waterfalls is located right at the beginning of the trail and is aptly named “Main Falls”. If you are looking for a fun outing with your kids, you could spend a decent amount of time just in the park’s entry area and viewing Main Falls without too much grumbling from the kiddos or the less actively inclined participants in your group. We, however, were looking to put some distance between ourselves and the crowds and headed down the stairs of the “red trail” toward the nature trails.

Main Falls, Bushkill Falls

Once we passed a sign that advertised that what lay beyond were trails intended for experienced hikers only, the crowds died down a lot. We passed more people than we did on our walks in Harrisburg to and from XL Live, but had little portions of the trail completely to ourselves. Shortly into the nature trail, we found a Bigfoot silhouette and I couldn’t resist asking Mike to snap these photos before thanking him for putting up with me.

We realized the distances depicted on the map provided by the Visitor’s Center did not accurately represent the actual distances between each waterfall and lookout, nor their actual location on the side of the creek. It made for a journey that kept us a little on our toes and each discrepancy we came across provided a little comic relief. Once we got closer to a waterfall called “Bridesmaid’s Falls”, we caught a glimpse of herds of creatures in their natural habitat. The Poconos are, after all, a popular destination for bachelorette parties. I, myself, can recall more than one occasion of traipsing around the region with a “Bride Tribe” Shot Glass Necklace and even a green wig, in one case. I suppose the name of this waterfall was a particular draw for these herds of women along with one further along called “Bridal Veil Falls”. Bushkill knows its market, I guess.

Bushkill Falls Trail Map

We ended our hike with a scenic view of the Delaware Valley which had not yet fully blossomed with fall color, but still provided a picturesque sight (and another silhouette of Bigfoot!). With tired muscles from miles and miles of inclined walking over the course of one day, we headed back to the car, which was good an dirty by this point, and drove to our final stop to check into our hotel.

Delaware Valley Lookout, Bushkill Falls

Stroudsburg

We checked into The Penn Stroud in downtown Stroudsburg where our room was comfortable, though the lighting was a bit stark for my taste. If it were up to me, Bright White lightbulbs would be reserved for medical facilities, research labs, emergency exits, and nowhere else. The Penn Stroud, however, seemed to have a different opinion of them and used them in abundance. There was a desk lamp in the room, so we switched that baby on and that provided relief from the bright-as-day lighting. We freshened up and headed back out for dinner.

We tried out Farmhouse Mainstreet in downtown Stroudsburg, which had a very different menu to the all-day brunch menu posted on their website, but we decided to still give it a shot. It looked cozy with a distressed vintage vibe in the pictures online and even would have been if bright-as-day lights weren’t trending in Stroudsburg. I ordered the Apple Arugula Salad with Chicken which was delicious and Mike ordered something that tasted much less impressive. The service was weird and the servers seemed annoyed with one another, which was uncomfortable as diners, but my cocktail and meal were delicious so it could just be that we came on an off day. I hope so.

After dinner, we headed down the street to Down River Brewing Company. The brewery was set deep within a fluorescent lit indoor mall type place and we instantly turned around upon seeing it was karaoke night. Now, I’m a fan of karaoke sometimes, but it wasn’t what we were looking for on a Saturday night on our little weekend away. We switched gears and headed to Finola’s Irish Pub, finally finding a place that suited the ambiance we were craving.

A perfect pint, courtesy of Finola’s

At Finola’s, my perfectly poured pint of Guinness picked up my spirits as we sat there at the bar, puzzled by Saturday night in Stroudsburg (and Friday night in Harrisburg). I followed my Guinness with a non-alcoholic beer to stretch the night a little further before we headed back to our hotel for some much needed sleep after our long day of driving and hiking.

The previous evening’s track record left me a little wary of brunch that Sunday, but there was no need for that whatsoever. The Cure Cafe was a cozy little spot on Main Street that had us leaving Stroudsburg on a high note. We sat outside, bundled up in our jackets and I had my first coffee since May (five months with no coffee- I’m still in disbelief) and enjoyed every sip of it alongside my breakfast. With achy leg muscles, full bellies, and a family birthday party to get to, we got back in the car and headed out, leaving the Poconos behind us until next time.

If you are enjoying these little PA travel journals, great, because there’s one more to come! If not, bear with me and I’ll be sure to write some strictly cozy posts soon. Thanks for reading and have a cozy day! 💖

Travel

Pennsylvania Getaways: West Chester

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

We’ve gone to Pennsylvania more than we’ve gone to most places this year and I haven’t written about any of these little jaunts since a post from last December, which, if I’m being honest, was mostly about New Jersey anyway. The Keystone State little-spoons my beloved Garden State and in my head, the two go together like meat and potatoes.

Ever since before I was born, my family in New Jersey and my family in Pennsylvania would cross state lines frequently, whether it be for birthdays, holidays, weddings, funerals, or simply weekends spent amongst each others’ company. There were more adults than kids when all the East Coasters got together, so the parents, my Aunt Arlene, and my Nana could relax a little while my sister, my cousins, and I ran around and played like little Wild Things, exploding with imaginative creativity.

To this day, Mike and I often find ourselves climbing into the car and making the trek to PA for some reason or another. The journey has become so familiar that I forget these excursions are even trips at all. For my next few posts, I am going to focus on a few destinations in the Keystone State that were new to us this year. So, without further ado, let’s get started on today’s featured destination!

West Chester

What brings you to West Chester? you might ask in a tone questioning our judgement or maybe even our sanity as one shop clerk and one winery barman asked me while on our trip there. For vacation! I replied, wondering why West Chester seemed to have been discounted as a vacation destination by its own locale. Still, the town and the surrounding landscape provided a charming weekend getaway for us, so let me fill you in on the details because I know after that intro, you are raring to get yourselves there!

Lodging

We stayed downtown at the Hotel Warner, an art deco style building, constructed where the grand Warner Theatre once stood. The hotel’s lobby was formerly the lobby of the theatre, which was left standing after a portion of the theatre was demolished in the 80s, and paid homage to the location’s history with photos, a mural, and memorabilia.

Our room was comfortable for our two-night stay and a light continental breakfast was included each morning. There was a cozy reading spot in the room where I crushed a good chunk of The Alice Network by, Kate Quinn, posted my Tolkien Takeaways post, and Googled the poet Baudelaire.

Looking at the History page of the Hotel Warner’s website now, there is a funny line about the Warner Theatre that is reminiscent of the reactions I got from locals regarding why we chose West Chester as a vacation destination, “The theatre was considered so grand by the local people that it was rumored to have been intended for Westchester New York and put in West Chester, Pennsylvania by mistake.” Believe in yourself, West Chester! Because the people believe in you!

Dining & Drinks

When we went to West Chester back at the end of March, I had not yet been bitten by the question that fueled me to embark on my healthy habits journey, so food and drink were activities high on the agenda for the weekend.

Keep reading for more info on some dining spots I’d recommend!

Stove & Tap West Chester, Downtown West Chester

We ate dinner at Stove & Tap on our first night in town. The restaurant had a polished, industrial-chic vibe, replete with light fixtures strung from pulleys, rope dividers, antique-y tin ceiling tiles, and an airy, modern color scheme throughout. The food was delicious! Menu highlight: Fried Brussels Sprouts

Sedona Taphouse, Downtown West Chester

Sedona Taphouse called to us as we passed by on our walk back to our hotel after Stove & Tap and we decided we’d make a reservation for the next night. It did not disappoint. Despite its lofty ceilings and copper touches, the stone walls and warm lighting gave this place a super cozy vibe. Everything we tried was delicious and our server was kind and attentive. If you’re in the area, snag a reservation! Menu highlight: Bacon Wrapped Scallops

Braeloch Brewing, Kennett Square, PA

If you have a passion for beer and are visiting Longwood Gardens for the day or are just visiting Kennett Square, I recommend giving this place a try for a brew or a flight and some lunch. The food was hearty and there were some good options for sharables on the menu. The beers available on tap rotate, but there is a good range of options for beer lovers of all preferences. They even have Athletic Brewing non-alcoholic beers on their menu, along with seltzers and a selection of soft drinks for those who prefer not to drink alcohol. The vibe was cool, quirky, and rustic and there is a sign by the bathrooms that I hope makes you laugh as much as it made me laugh. Sometimes, it’s just the little things, you know?

Stargazers Vineyard, Coatesville, PA

This picturesque vineyard was nestled at the very end of a rural, residential street and we loved the idea that people living in this little neighborhood could just walk a few steps up the hill to a winery and vineyard. Besides us, there was only one other group in the small tasting room, a group of friends who seemed to know the barman and who had brought a picnic and a sleepy dog with them. We sat at a sunbathed table by the window overlooking the rows of vines, competing with the ladybugs on the windowpane for an unimpeded view. Our time here was relaxing and the atmosphere was laid back and friendly, like a little neighborhood gathering spot. The barman played different songs as they came to him and provided a commentary of why he was choosing the next song. As we were paying our tab after finishing our flight of wine, he asked why we had come to the area in the way I mentioned earlier and then he asked if I had listened to Beyoncé’s country album, Cowboy Carter, yet. He seemed disappointed that I had not; in fact I still haven’t listened to it yet. Sorry! I know! I’ll pop it on now while I continue writing this post.

And now, onto our non-food or drink related main activity for the weekend…

Longwood Gardens

I recommend visiting Longwood Gardens when all of the fountains are on. It was still very pretty when we went and we were lucky to be able to see the beautiful tulips, but be sure to time your visit better than we did if you are going in hopes of seeing the fountain water shows. From what I read, they are supposed to be pretty impressive, I, however, cannot attest firsthand as only one small fountain was on while we were visiting.

The Open Air Theatre Fountain is open from early May to mid November. If you are reading this when I am posting it, you still have until November 17th to catch a water show before the fountains are turned off for the season! If you do visit during the colder months, be sure to visit the indoor conservatory to wander around in the tropical oasis curated within. There is a beer garden, cafe, restaurant, and store located on the grounds as well if you are a one-stop-shop kind of person or group looking for a full day activity.

Shopping

West Chester offers a cute, walkable downtown, which is what drew me to pick it for vacation in the first place. I like to peruse little independent shops that have set up their establishments in little red brick buildings. That’s just who I am and who I will always be and I find it relaxing.

I am addicted to stationary, in particular, and I know that in a cute walkable downtown, there is always at least one shop where I can find unique stationary and cards. I like to write and send and frame and stock as many cards as will fit in my designated stationary drawer. Maybe I have a problem. Who knows? (Me. I know. But that’s ok right?!) Anyway, I found what I was on the hunt for in West Chester, a baby shower card for a friend, in a shop called Thistle Be Perfect and that was my purchasing complete for the weekend.

So my friends, whether you are looking for a laid back daytrip from Philly or a weekend getaway from a little further afield like we were, I’d say West Chester is worth giving some thought! There’s a little bit of something for everyone and it’s not a bear to plan, which always has its benefits. You can kind of pick and choose your itinerary as you go, so if that’s how you like to travel, check it out for yourself! With that, I’ll end this post and look forward to telling you about another destination in the Keystone State next time! Thanks for reading! 🙂

Cozy Posts

October Postcard

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

It’s October-proper October, with its changing colors, crunchy leaves, and clouds that paint a gray scale on the sky like an art class assignment with splashes of periwinkle where the colors got too mixed. The heat’s still off, but there’s a chill inside that calls for tea and so, I’ll put the kettle on. This morning feels Darjeeling-y to me or “Darling”-y as my friend Kelsey might say, so a darling morning it shall be.

I’m drowning in an old sweater, but it’s a favorite so it still felt right to choose it from the drawer this morning and pull it on, familiar in its soft feel and deep orange hue. Today needs to be an editing day for a second draft of a play that I don’t know what to do with once it’s finished which is why it is not finished and such a day calls for being cozy. The writing is the part that I understand. The rest is a learning process that feels like school on a day there’s a test I didn’t study for. The words are out of my head and that was the point. Any other points that follow are just gifts as far as I am concerned.

I’ve always loved October. October is for reading and Crock-Pot dinners and long hikes along crisp trails. It’s for writing about color and family and mysterious goings-on. It’s for sweatshirts on the beach and cold sand under bare feet. And this particular October, I turn thirty-three, a number I have no notions about whatsoever, a number that just is, and that’s alright with me.

Thirty-two was good and great and fine, challenging and interesting, awkward and confident, revelatory and strong. It was a year for change and writing, for spontaneous adventure and wanderlust, for mindset shifts, new wheels, and a new reflection.

There were strengthened ties with acquaintances that became friends, dinners and drinks and walks, belly laughs, and little smiles. And now it’s October again, another year around the thermonuclear reactor nearly complete and only life to show for it.

It’s hard to keep up with everyone and that’s part of why I write posts like this here. For the ones who have kept up, you’ve kept me from the lonely side of writing and there are not enough thank yous for that. For the ones who haven’t so much, I hope you are all well and I’d love to hear from you sometime, no matter how long it’s been.

My friend, Katherine, sends me postcards from her travels and last week I found Edinburgh sitting right there in the mailbox. I read her words in her handwriting and enjoyed the little excerpts of her trip. To me, it doesn’t really matter what picture adorns a postcard; recent ones always go on the fridge- words out. Handwritten mail is special and is protected from minimalism in my house. A friend’s handwriting and their carefully chosen words are connections to be valued; they are love and thoughtfulness in written form. It has me thinking it’s been a while since I’ve written a card just because and, who knows, maybe October will be a month for some snail mail.

Travel

Colorado Travel Journal

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

Hi friends! I hope September has been treating you well. I’ve got my Earl Gray tea in my favorite mug as I write this post on our big, blue couch, doing my best to unfold the words and style on the page. One thing is certain, however, as I look down at the mostly blank screen. Today, I will write about mountains.

Last week, we got back from an incredible trip to Colorado and I’m already looking forward to returning sometime in the future as some of the places we visited definitely rank among the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.

We made sure to spend the first couple of days of our trip acclimating to the elevation so that we’d be less prone to the dangers and discomfort of altitude sickness while hiking and visiting high vista points later on in Rocky Mountain National Park. Our trip began in Denver, also known as “the mile high city”, where we explored the lively, eclectic neighborhoods of LoHi (Lower Highland) and RiNo (River North Arts District) and the quiet, active, residential pièce de résistance of Wash Park (Washington Park).

Denver

We told ourselves we were going to limit our alcohol intake on this trip compared to other vacations as it can dehydrate you and dehydration puts you at greater risk for altitude sickness. That being said, our first stop was Denver Beer Co. on Platte Street in LoHi. We went on a mission to try their award-winning pilsner called “Love This City”, but the brewery didn’t have it in any form when we went. We chose our runner-up orders from the beer list and poured ourselves two large glasses of water from the tap in the tasting room to stay hydrated. We enjoyed our beers in a shady spot on the covered patio area, happy to find that both the beer and the tap water were delicious. If you go to Colorado, bring a refillable bottle and fill whenever you can. We needed to fill ours a lot because the Denver air was dry as toast to our sea-level and humidity accustomed bodies. Lip balm and lotion also came in very handy for staying comfortable in the dry climate.

We enjoyed a visit to the Denver Central Market where we caught some of the US Open Men’s Semi Final while sipping on non-alcoholic beers. We started getting hungry and decided on a nearby spot for dinner, Work & Class, where we were seated quickly and received attentive service and delicious food, the best of which, we agreed, was something called “The Massive Attack Salad” which was loaded with perfectly seasoned vegetables tossed in parmesan and lemon vinaigrette. Yum!

Denver Central Market

The next day, we visited Wash Park, a neighborhood that we read is where the locals go to show off “the best of Denver” to visitors. We enjoyed walking around Smith Lake in the park and the cute shops and restaurants on S. Gaylord Street. One shop in particular, The Paper Lady, called to me reminding me of all the upcoming birthdays for friends and family. Once we were all stocked up on festive stationary, we were ready to continue on our adventure.

Red Rocks Amphitheatre

We hopped in the car and headed on toward our next stop, one we were very excited for- Red Rocks Amphitheatre and Park in Morrison, CO. I had searched AllTrails for easy hikes in Red Rocks and found only one, Mt. Vernon Creek Trail. We parked at the trailhead, laced up our hiking boots and got started on the trail, which AllTrails had said was popular, but on which we saw no one. AllTrails had also warned that the trail was overgrown, which it very much was, and to be aware of rattlesnakes and mountain lions.

Early into our hike, I couldn’t help but imagine mountain lions crouched in the tall grass watching us intently and hearing the imagined stage whispers of snakes rattling in warning at the sound of our steps. I voiced the desire to turn around and make our way back to the car. Mike was happy to oblige and was kind enough to wait to tell me about the large spider he saw on the trail until we were clear of the trailhead. It was a relief to get back in the car.

We drove up a short way within the park and parked at the base of Red Rocks Amphitheatre. On concert days, the Amphitheatre is open to the public until around 2:00PM. We began the climb up to the venue, applying sunscreen and taking frequent water breaks, still not adjusted to the dry air of the higher altitude. The music venue sits at approx. 6,450 feet above sea level, but the view was well worth the climb.

Boulder

The next stop on our journey was Boulder, Co. Boulder is a bustling college town packed with restaurants, shops, and plenty of outdoor adventure right on its doorstep. We walked the bustling, pedestrian Pearl Street and stopped at Bohemian Biergarten for some regular and non-alcoholic beer. (As a side note, non-alcoholic beer options have become varied and plentiful and serve as a great alternative to regular beer for far fewer calories. They have really come in clutch to help in not feeling deprived while adopting a healthier lifestyle.)

Among the many shop offerings in town, I only really wanted to visit a bookstore. (I always want to visit a bookstore.) We scoped out the options in town and Boulder Bookstore was just the ticket to satisfy my craving. I perused two of the three floors of shelves, in search of a few books I’ve been hunting down for my collection and settled on a nostalgic childhood favorite, Norton Juster’s The Phantom Tollbooth.

Later in the evening, we grabbed some dinner outdoors at Postino Boulder, an excellent Pearl Street spot for watching passerby while savoring a glass of wine and some delicious bruschetta boards. After dinner, we decided we had enough room to share a small gelato from Gelato Boy before heading back to our hotel to rest up for our next day’s adventures.

The Flatirons

If you go to Boulder, be sure not to pass up a hike in Chautauqua Park and The Flatirons. We started our outdoor excursion on Chautauqua Trail from Chautauqua Park with a breathtaking view of the pointed peaks of The Flatirons rising against the sky like stone giants. We hiked to the tree line and into the woods, watching our footing on dusty trails while strategically navigating the rocky terrain in parts. We marveled at rock climbers passing us expertly in their sandals or even bare feet, in one case, with bulky crash pads or young children strapped to their backs.

The Flatirons

We reached a point in the trail where we could see climbers ascending a steep face of rock with some strategizing how to begin from the base of the rock. We didn’t linger too long as the trail was pretty crowded and soon continued on our less steep path.

Climbers (in blue and in yellow) approach the top of the rock face

After our hike, we shared a hodgepodge meal of left overs in Chautauqua Park and embarked on the way up to the mountains and to Estes Park, the gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park.

Estes Park

Estes Park had a lot more going on than I had expected of a mountain town. The downtown area had many shops, restaurants, breweries, and even a movie theatre and was full of people exploring the area. Our first stop was Lily Lake where we got our first glimpse of up close views of the surrounding mountains.

Rocky Mountain National Park

We checked into our hotel, The Appenzell Inn, just a short drive from downtown before heading over to the park with a late in the day timed entry to try and squeeze in a hike to Alberta Falls from the Glacier Gorge trailhead before our dinner reservation, which we failed to do that day since parking can be quite challenging in the park. We have learned it may be best to park in the Park & Ride Lot on Bear Lake Road and take the complimentary shuttle to the Glacier Gorge and Bear Lake Trailheads. We were, however, able to take a walk around the manmade Sprague Lake, which was similarly pretty as Lily Lake and used to be part of a mountain resort run by Abner and Alberta Sprague in the late 1800s to early 1900s. We’d just have to take advantage of our earlier timed entry the next day to make the most of our time in the park.

Sprague Lake

Timed Entry & Parking

Mike was on top of reserving a timed entry slot well in advance for Bear Lake Road for 8:00AM for our big hiking day. He made the reservation about a month in advance. Timed entry for Bear Lake Road opens at 5:00AM and goes until 6:00PM. Despite getting there at 7:45AM, we had no luck with parking at the Bear Lake Trailhead as we’d hoped and had to park at the Park & Ride lot anyway.

Lake Haiyaha

This hike was incredible you guys! The approximately two miles of steady incline was not too difficult for our moderate level of fitness. The Bear Lake Trailhead sits at approximately 9,475 feet and Lake Haiyaha sits about 865 feet higher. The trail is winding and beautiful with many views on the way up and ends at a boulder field around the glacial lake which required a bit of scrambling to get a view of the lake. We found a good little spot to eat our lunch right by the water and took in the fresh air and lake views which were framed by the surrounding peaks and distant tundra.

Dream Lake

We made our way back down the trail to the junction of Dream Lake and Emerald Lake. Dream Lake is very fitting of its name with its clear shallows and turquoise depths, all framed by mountain peaks and trees. This was my favorite of the lakes we saw, while Mike’s was Lake Haiyaha.

Dream Lake

Emerald Lake

This was a crowded one, friends, but lovely all the same. We did some minor rock scrambling for a good view away from the crowds and sat for a short while before making our way to Bear Lake for an easy stroll around the lake path.

Emerald Lake

Alberta Falls

I love a good waterfall and this one did not disappoint. We took the shuttle from the Bear Lake lot to the Glacier Gorge Trailhead and began the pleasant climb to Alberta Falls, a 1.6 mile round trip journey, really glad we’d had time to fit it in to our day of hiking in the park.

Alberta Falls

Downtown Estes Park & The Stanley Hotel

At the end of our park day, we returned to our hotel to freshen up before heading out to try a local brewery, Rock Cut Brewing. The beer at Rock Cut was delicious, the most interesting of which we found to be one called Serrano Paintbrush, which tasted just like a fresh pepper. Absolutely delicious!

Afterwards, we drove by The Stanley Hotel which inspired Stephen King’s well known horror novel, The Shining, careful not to get too close.

The Stanley Hotel

For dinner, we headed to an Irish and Scottish Pub in downtown Estes Park called the Twisted Griffin where we sat at the bar and received attentive service from the friendly bartender, Joel. I continued my dilemma of how to order a Guinness with Harp, which some pubs refer to as a Half & Half and others as a Black & Tan. I always happen to order it the way the pub doesn’t refer to it as, so I’m coping with that ongoing dilemma as best I can.

Trail Ridge Road & Alpine Visitor’s Center

Our final morning in Colorado was reserved for views and, boy, did we get views! We made our way into the park and began the winding drive up Trail Ridge Road, which peaks at an elevation of 12,183 feet. Our destination was the Alpine Visitor’s Center, which is located at an elevation of 11,796 feet. If you are looking for spectacular views of the mountains, you will find them on this road; I promise.

Trail Ridge Road is only open seasonally as the road gets a lot of snow in the winter, spring, and even early summer. Visitors can also expect rapidly changing weather conditions at these higher elevations and it is strongly advised to be off the tundra before noon to avoid dangers like lightning, strong winds, and storms. We had to return our rental car to the airport in Denver by 12:30PM, so this wasn’t a huge concern for us. The winding roads, however, are not for the faint of heart and may induce sweaty palms as your car climbs higher and higher into the mountains.

I hope you enjoyed this little travel journal of our trip to Colorado. I can’t recommend a trip out there enough and can’t wait to get back and maybe try some different trails in the park. If you have a favorite National Park, let me know in the comments! Thanks for reading and have an adventurous day!

Travel

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

Today has been written off as a travel recovery day. We got home from the airport around 2:30AM due to a delay on our flight home from the sunshine state, but we were happy to have gotten home by then at all. The flight at the neighboring gate to ours in Tampa was canceled after 3+ hours of delays which resulted in one of the disappointed LaGuardia-bound passengers going full Hulk in the terminal, such that he had to be escorted out by eight police officers. We felt lucky in comparison to only be delayed two hours and not to have to spend the night in some airport hotel by the Bay in return-limbo.

Once we deplaned in Newark, the trek from our gate to our car felt long. We were racing against an unknown grace-period beyond the length of our pre-paid parking. We rolled our carry-ons along the waxed tile floors of the shiny new-ish terminal, down an escalator, up an escalator, down an escalator again. We slugged along the acid-washed, blue passage connecting Terminal A to the Airtrain station, passing a man who had lost all care for his luggage and was scraping his bags along the passage wall. We transferred on the Airtrain and finally arrived at our unreliable little car that decided to be reliable this morning, the little angel. We were pleasantly surprised to still be within the parking grace-period when driving through the exit toll of the garage and that put a smile on our faces.

We decided that, despite being dead tired, a stop at Wawa seemed necessary on the way home. Mike expertly navigated the confusing start to our journey as I pointed out all the ways we would have taken a wrong turn and ended up somewhere in Elizabeth if I were navigating.

We enjoyed the empty highways characteristic of the early morning hours when most of New Jersey’s dwellers are nestled in their beds. The hour offered quiet, cool relief compared with the Florida heat and Wawa was a bright, quick respite. We stocked up on a few snacks and we were home soon enough.

Typically, I unpack everything as soon as we get home, but hunger and sleepiness delayed this process. We ate our “meal” in groggy, happy silence, brushed our teeth and fell asleep before we even realized it.

Today, my muscles and bones feel like they were replaced with wet sand and my hair could use a wash but that would certainly be overextending for the day. The grocery shopping is done, the bags are unpacked, and a load of laundry needs to be folded, but that can wait until tomorrow. I preferred to sit here and catch up with you, to move my fingers, and pretend the day was somewhat productive even though I may still be a little bit asleep. I will relish 2:00AM tomorrow from my dreams, tucked comfortably up in warm sheets and a quilt, unconscious to the stress and uncertainties of planes, trains, and automobiles.

Cozy Posts · Nostalgic Posts

Good Bones

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

The heart of the shore house beats with the influx of familiar faces after the renting geese who flocked here for a change of scenery migrate home. The stairs creak in welcome at the sound of our identifiable steps and the walls sigh with relief as we walk through the front door and exchange warm greetings amongst family. The smiles, raised glasses, wagging tails, and toddler hugs refuel our tired spirits and remind us that although we share this place with so many, it is ultimately ours and together, we are home.

The shore house, though never my primary residence, is the home that I remember best from my childhood. It is where I spent my summers with my Nana and my Aunt Arlene. It is where I learned to cook with way too much butter and salt which I’ve since learned to remediate. It is where I learned the manners of a lady and sometimes defied that lesson by channeling a hereditary instinct to be wild thanks to the generation before me (though it is now impossible to mislay the cup, napkin, knife, and fork in a table setting).

The shore house has seen me shattered, coming back to a gloom within its walls that seemed they’d never feel full again the day my Aunt Arlene lost her battle with pancreatic cancer. The shore house helped me to start the healing process in the days that followed. It is where I learned the benefits of solitude, self-reflection, and the great company and support that you can find on the pages of a book.

The shore house, along with my Nana and Aunt Arlene, is why I know my family so well, why my cousins are more like sisters to me and my sister, and why I feel a need to spend so much effort nurturing a building, these days, despite the fact that doing so can push me to my stress limits better than anything else can.

With the shore house, my Nana and her sister created a home for all of the family to feel is ours. Nurturing the space reciprocates a respect for the value that it adds and has added to our family’s shared experience. In our shared home, we strive for functionality and something that is easier to care for, for the benefit of our migrating guests, but we also make sure that there is an abundance of coziness for ourselves as well.

Coziness, to me, is a combination of functionality, minimalism, and personal identity. Sometimes coziness seems like something else entirely to other members of my family. We make it work, though I can’t fully say I understand how.

Conch shells, Bananagrams tiles, paintings of ships in storms, lighthouse figurines, and donation bags coexist.

Sisters, cousins, grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, husbands, fiancées, Daisy (and Dixie), and friends coexist.

Someone always has to sleep in Room 6 and wake up with a head bruise or two, courtesy of the steeply sloped ceiling.

There are often more than twenty-five pairs of shoes by the front door. The TV volume always fuels debate for what is to be considered a reasonable volume, as my Nana used to say. It takes hours to settle on a movie to watch and then someone inevitably leaves the room just after we hit play.

At the shore house, we drink way too much whiskey, too much wine, and just enough beer. Cheese and See’s Candies are considered reasonable meals. We stay up too late talking and laughing on the porch. We wake up to Daisy sniffing at the bedroom door and come downstairs to the perfume of coffee, the sound of cartoons, and a chorus of good mornings in the living room with each new entrant.

There are porch people and couch people and beach people.

The showers are usually taken.

The showers are cold when it’s finally your turn.

The kitchen is stifling in the evening no matter what setting the ceiling fan is on.

Eggs, oatmeal, bacon, and Del Ponte’s treats nourish us in the mornings – and coffee, of course. “I could do another cup,” sings the chorus of porch people.

We smell like sunscreen and the ocean. We are fiercely competitive at Five Crowns and The Fishbowl Game. Our shoulders sparkle with dried, Atlantic salt. We find sand in unexpected places. We could write an encyclopedia of inside jokes at the end of each summer, but sometimes forget how they originated.

We welcome, we nurture, we work hard and together. We keep the dream going for another year and another year and another year, thinking it’s getting easier until something hard happens. And then we remind ourselves that despite occasional stress fractures, it’s possible to heal, and our house has good bones.