Experiences

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Travels Without Miranda, #4: Bailey and Windy Peak, Colorado

How I came to Colorado with a friend to represent Canada at an environmental youth summit is a rather long story featuring a famous anthropologist. Suffice it to say that it was the opportunity of a lifetime, one I had been told I would have to miss because there was no way I could come up with the necessary funds for the flight in the time I had. Readers of this blog should know by now that the best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can’t. 🙂

This trip happened the fall after I finished high school; I was seventeen. I squirreled away the prize monies I’d won upon graduation, including the $300 award for creative writing that I had no doubt would be mine, and worked all summer. It had been a very difficult September and this trip couldn’t have come at a better time. It was to be the first major life-changing trip of my life.

the Farmer's Union outside of Bailey, where we spent the first half of our Colorado adventure (http://nfu.org/about/education/education-center)

the Farmer’s Union outside of Bailey, where we spent the first half of our Colorado adventure (http://nfu.org/about/education/education-center)

The five day adventure featured many challenges to surmount, one of which was standing before a crowd of thirty, including my hero, and talking about my accomplishments in the environmental field.

I was so scared; others had surely done bigger and greater things than I had. My accomplishments would seem insignificant when compared to that of the others. Surely, I had nothing to teach and I would be ridiculed for thinking that I had made any difference at all. To my surprise, the response to my speech was positive and I saw my hero glow with pride. She made it clear to me that I had something to give to the world and that I could be an inspiration.

Windy Peak outdoor school, a day's hike from the Farmer's Union, where we spent the second half of our trip

Windy Peak outdoor school, a day’s hike from the Farmer’s Union, where we spent the second half of our trip

Had that moment fallen flat, I might never have had the courage or self-assurance to blog about my life on the road, much less to publish my ebook Sorting It Out.

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Travels Without Miranda, #3: Flying from Las Vegas, Nevada, to the Grand Canyon, Arizona

My first morning in Las Vegas had me being driven down the Strip to McCarran airport in a stretch limo.

There, I climbed into a tiny helicopter that took me over the Mojave desert, within view of Mead Lake and the Hoover dam, all the way to the Grand Canyon. We landed within it and were given time to explore and enjoy a champagne brunch.

Let’s just say this was a more luxe experience than I normally go for. I was until then a backpacker, a camper, a youth hosteler, not someone who stays at a nice hotel and drinks fancy drinks by a pool lined with palm trees! And I most certainly was a frugal traveler, not one who would do such extravagant things as take a half-day helicopter ride from Las Vegas to the Grand Canyon. Nope!

I’m not sure what came over me during my planning of my southwest road trip. I’ll plead mental exhaustion, what with the stress of having lost my dad earlier that year. I needed to be pampered and catered-to, to do things just for fun to reawaken my zest for life. I didn’t know if I’d ever come back to that part of the US and I was so close to the Grand Canyon. The helicopter jaunt sounded like the perfect way to see the Canyon with the time I had available to me. It just about broke my budget, but it is now one of my most cherished memories.

Rather than taking photos during this jaunt, I made full use of the video setting on my camera, so the following images are stills from my movies, explaining the poor quality. Unfortunately, the second half of my Grand Canyon recordings have been lost due to reshuffling between several computers. I have managed to save a picture of me at the bottom of the canyon, proof enough that I was there even if someone did tell me that the image seems to be photoshopped. 😀

a glimpse of the Strip

a glimpse of the Strip

Lake Mead

Lake Mead

Mojave desert

Mojave desert

Colorado River and the Grand Canyon

Colorado River and the Grand Canyon

a non-photoshopped picture of me at the bottom of the Grand Canyon

a non-photoshopped picture of me at the bottom of the Grand Canyon

Sometimes you end up in a place where you get the chance to experience an incredible adventure. Do it and @%@$ the budget. I applied this lesson when I decided to hike the Chilkoot Pass at a time when I financially had no business doing so.

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Passing the Torch

In the middle of writing up my last post, I looked out the window and noticed a crowd gathering in front of the rock. There was also a lot of police activity. Holy moly, I thought, the Olympic torch is about to go by! I grabbed a coat and ran down to capture this historic event.

Twenty-one years ago, I saw the torch being passed on in my home town ahead of the 1988 winter games in Calgary.  It boggles my mind that I can recall so clearly an event that happened more than twenty years ago. I’m getting a little long in the tooth. 🙂

first glimpse of the torch!

first glimpse of the torch!

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passing the torch

passing the torch

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the new runner takes off... walking

the new runner takes off… walking

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End of Season Fun at Gertie’s

I have to say that my two nights of partying at Gertie’s were the perfect farewell to Dawson. It’s rare for me to go out two nights in a row, much less drink, eat, and gamble as much as I did, but money for fun came from unexpected sources.

Friday night was Talent Night. One singer was very good and a comedian had a very good routine as a hydrophobe synchronized swimmer, but, otherwise, I found the whole thing a tad silly. I still had a good time, chatting with friends and the people around my table. One gentleman got lucky at either the slot machines or the poker tables and bought a round for the whole table. Which explains why I ended up drinking more beer than I normally drink at one time. 🙂

Saturday night were the last shows of the season. It was the usual line up at 8:30, 10:30, and midnight, but with humourous, and very naughty, twists. I went with the gang from work and drinks were paid for all night. I played 15$ in the penny slots and came out with 7$ ahead! It was sooooo much fun! Best of all, I wasn’t stressed about my departure the next day and was able to relax and truly enjoy myself.

It was a very interesting atmosphere at the end of the night, like the closure of Gertie’s marks the true end of the summer season. There were a lot of ‘Have a good winter, see you next year!’s I’m told the population of Dawson goes down to only about 700 in the winter!

I’m already 20% of the way to Campbell River and the non-nomad part of me is heartbreakingly homesick. But let’s not kid ourselves; the nomad part is stronger. 🙂

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The Dawson Outhouse Race

I thought today was going to be a normal, quiet Saturday. Nope, I found myself outside of Gertie’s watching the annual Outhouse Race. Welcome to Dawson! 😀

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the theme was obviously scatological :)

the theme was obviously scatological 🙂

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INTERNATIONAL OUTHOUSE RACE and WRITING ON THE BATHROOM WALL LIMERICK CONTEST!!! (the limericks were quite obscene; I've never heard such language in public with children present. I love Dawson!)

INTERNATIONAL OUTHOUSE RACE and WRITING ON THE BATHROOM WALL LIMERICK CONTEST!!! (the limericks were quite obscene; I’ve never heard such language in public with children present. I love Dawson!)

(this one was my favourite *g*)

(this one was my favourite *g*)

and the outhouses are off!