Sweet Beach Towns along the Oregon Coast

Posted on December 3, 2014 by alyssa

When many people travel to Oregon, they fly into Portland and only venture out a short distance to Mount Hood and the Columbia River Gorge. However, Oregon’s western coastline is one of the best kept road trip secrets in America.

Drive along the idyllic Highway 101 to experience nearly 400 miles of jagged cliffs, pine forests, historic lighthouses, and sandy beaches. This stretch of seaside towns barely resembles the bikini-clad beaches of sunny California, but that’s part of the beauty of this mystical and romantic terrain.

I recently got to experience the Oregon Coast for myself and visit several of these towns. I’m saving the rest for a longer future road trip when I have a little more time to spend in the area!

So if you’re traveling north from California on a road trip of your own, don’t miss these charmingly beautiful beach towns along the Oregon coast. From bottom to top, these are a few of my favorites. Just don’t forget to bring a sweater because the average summer high temperature along the Oregon coast rarely reaches 60-degrees!

Brookings/Harbor

Brookings and Harbor are two neighboring towns that have a combined population of about 10,000 people. The Chetco River is very scenic and this area known as the Easter Lily Capital of the World, since most of the world’s potted lily bulbs are produced in this region. You can set up camp at either Harris Beach State Park or Alfred A. Loeb State Park in this area at any time of the year.

North Bend/Coos Bay

The cities of North Bend and Coos Bay constitute the largest population center on the Oregon coast, so there are plenty of dining, shopping, and lodging options available here for road trippers. North Bend even has an airport with regular commercial jet service. Before you reach Florence, stop at the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area, which spans over 40 miles and has easy access for day use areas and hiking.

The Sunset Bay State Park and the Cape Arago Lighthouse are worth a stop as well. This lighthouse sands 100 feet above the ocean, and although it’s not open to the public, you can view it from an overlook just south of the Sunset Bay campground.

Florence

The town of Florence is tucked away behind some sand dunes along the river, and dune buggy tours are a popular activity in this area. There’s a casino nearby if you’re looking to test your luck, and there are some restaurants and shops in town to explore as well. This is a great place to sample locally-made saltwater taffy and search for rare antiques. To get more in touch with nature, the Jessie M. Honeyman Memorial State Park offers year-around camping opportunities.

Seal Rock

Although Seal Rock is a very small and incorporated community, it’s worth a stop because of the picturesque Seal Rock State Park. Here you’ll find huge rocks extending out into the ocean and excellent wildlife observation areas to scope out seals, birds, and sea lions.

Newport

Newport is the most well-known and popular Oregon coast town to visit, so it becomes fairly congested during the summer months. There are two lighthouses in this area, the Yaquina Bay and the Yaquina Head lighthouses, and both are open for public tours.

Take some time to hike along the shore and out onto a jetty to watch locals fish for clams and crabs and to feel the cool ocean breeze on your skin. The recreation areas in this area are the Beverly Beach State Park and the Yaquina Bay State Recreation Site.

Lincoln City

Lincoln City is another popular beach town, with a population of about 7,000 people and extending for about eight miles. Snap a photo by the world’s shortest river, the D River, and stop by the casino here if you need a short driving break.

Stop by one of the local kite shops to pick up a uniquely designed kite to fly at the beach and take advantage of the steady winds. Devil’s Lake State Park is the nearest recreation site to explore at your leisure.

Pacific City

If you’re craving a little refreshment at this point in the drive, make a stop in Pacific City to visit the Pelican Brewing Company, which enjoys an ideal location right along the beach.

Pacific City’s beach resembles a postcard and is a common place to find surfers, stand-up paddle-boarders, horseback riders, and fishermen all doing what they do best.

Tillamook

For something a little different along your drive of the Oregon coast, take a slight detour to Tillamook to see the region’s lush green pastures and samples some products from the local agricultural industry.

One of the best places to stop is the Tillamook Cheese Factory, which offers free samples of cheese, sells ice cream, features a self-guided tour, and has a large gift shop.

To sample even more local products, head down the road to Blue Heron French Cheese Company, which also has a petting zoo with fun creatures behind fences.

Cannon Beach

Cannon Beach is an upscale community that’s most famous for “Haystack Rock,” the most photographed landmark along the coast. You can hop on the town’s free shuttle bus to check out the town, which has very few permanent residents but sees big crowds on summer weekends. Make sure to stop at nearby Ecola State Park, which is located just a couple miles north of town.

Seaside

One of the most family-friendly beach towns along the coast is Seaside, which has an arcade, bumper cars, and a carousel for kids to enjoy. Take a walk down Seaside’s Broadway to check out shops, restaurants, and mini-golf courses along the way.

When you’re in this area, look for Tillamook Rock Lighthouse, just 1.2 miles seaward of Tillamook Head south of Seaside. Although there is no public access to this lighthouse, you can catch good views from the Oregon Coast Trail near Seaside.

Astoria

Located along the Columbia River at the Washington state border, Astoria is a busy port town with a history of logging, fishing, and shipping.

You can visit the Columbia River Maritime Museum to learn more about the region’s history and Lewis and Clark’s Fort Clatsop, a re-creation of the explorers’ fort just south of town. If you’re looking for a bite to eat at the end of your journey, consider stopping at the Astoria Brewing Company, the Wet Dog Café, or Bowpicker Fish & Chips. If you’re looking to camp in the area, Fort Stevens State Park takes reservations through the year.

*A version of this article is published on one of the online travel magazines I write for, Trips to Discover.

The Semi-Epic Life of a Rooftop Tomato Plant

Posted on November 19, 2014 by alyssa

It was Father’s Day 2014, and in an odd twist of fate, I found myself spending the day with my father. To keep the whole family entertained, I organized a quick trip to the Chicago Botanical Garden to look at plants and such.

But this isn’t a story about my father; it’s about a tomato plant that spent a wild and turbulent summer with me on a rooftop in the city.

Much to my surprise, I didn’t just stare at plants from a reasonable distance at the botanical gardens. I actually got to bring one home with me! And for those of you who know me too well, NO, I did not secretly stash anything in my purse.

A couple of volunteers were handing out white cherry tomato plants in the Regenstein Fruit & Vegetable Garden…FOR FREE!

Apparently, white cherry tomatoes are native to the western coast of South America and the Galapagos Islands. Whatever the heck they’re doing in the suburbs of Chicago is a mystery to me. Too bad I couldn’t have justified a quick trip to the Galapagos to reunite this poor, lost plant with its family.

Piddilywinks the Tomato Plant – June 17, 2014

It sucks to acquire a free tomato plant and have nowhere to put it. I once had access to the roof adjacent to my second floor apartment. But ever since my weird landlord showed up one day to change the locks and board up a door, my personal space is entirely, and sadly, confined to the indoors.

So I meandered up to the 6th floor rooftop of my boyfriend’s condo and found a quiet little corner to transform into a makeshift tomato garden. It became an official garden when I stuck a gnome-on-a-stick and a laminated talk bubble into the pot. I figured this tomato plant would have an awfully lot to say to random passersby.

I named her Piddilywinks and she began to grow tall, strong, and beautiful. Based on the little handout sheet I received with her, she promised to produce tomatoes by my birthday. Good timing, Piddilywinks!

Piddilywinks the Tomato Plant – July 25, 2014

I tried to take good care of her, being my first real garden plant at all. I even trekked to Home Depot to invest in some stakes and twisty ties to hold up her branches. Piddilywinks began to enjoy a wonderful existence up on that rooftop…until I was reminded of one of the main reasons I don’t have a real garden.

I like to travel. And plants don’t like owners who travel.

On July 27th, I set out on a three-week adventure along the West Coast. Sadly, Piddilywinks wouldn’t exactly fit in my carry-on bag.

Related: Spelunking at California’s Lava Beds National Monument

Related: Resort Ruins and an Auto Graveyard: Rediscovering My Love for Hiking in Mt. Shasta

Related: Gnome Man’s Land: A California Fantasy Land 40 Years in the Making

Piddilywinks the Tomato Plant – July 27, 2014

When I returned from spelunking, hiking, and gnoming, I expected to find a dreadfully dead Piddilywinks waiting for me. But when I climbed the stairs to the 6th floor roof I found something entirely different…

MY PLANT WAS MISSING.

Totally gone. Without a trace. Pot, gnome, talk bubble, and all.

To me, this was worse than being dead. Where was my closure?!

Being the investigative sleuth he is, my boyfriend sent an email to his condo mailing list to get to the bottom of this. As it turns out, Piddilywinks was kidnapped.

I must admit, however, that she was kidnapped with good intentions. One dude in the building was concerned for her health and welfare and gave her to another dude in the building to take care. Why neither of these dudes bothered to respond to Piddilywinks talk bubble, I’ll never know.

After a semi-dramatic email exchange, Piddilywinks was eventually returned to her original position on the rooftop – and in great shape!

Piddilywinks the Tomato Plant – August 15, 2014

Dude #2 had clearly nursed her back to health, so I can’t really hold the kidnapping against him.

Piddilywinks had sprouted green tomatoes by mid-August. I was so anxious for them to turn white and taste like cherries. I was promised a white cherry tomato plant after all.

Piddilywinks the Tomato Plant – August 21, 2014

Much to my surprise, there was nothing white or cherry about Piddilywinks at all! Her tomatoes came in yellow!

As to provide further evidence of my neglectful plant parenting, I abandoned Piddilywinks once again in mid-August to join a spontaneous concert road trip to New York City.

Related: How I Wrapped Up My 30th Year in New York City

But this time, I left her in the care of my boyfriend, who snapped this photo of the first yellow tomatoes.

Piddilywinks the Tomato Plant – September 25, 2014

Who needs a watering can when you have a large supply of brewery growlers on hand?

Piddilywinks the Tomato Plant – October 22, 2014

Piddilywinks continued to survive and thrive throughout September and even October. In the end, she supplied me with around 50 “white” (yellow) “cherry” tomatoes. Yes, I ate almost all of them myself. And they were delicious!

There is one crucial thing that I didn’t know until I sat down to write this blog. You’re not supposed to ‘fridge ’em! Apparently, cherry tomatoes lose their flavor and texture deteriorates under 54 degrees. So THAT’S why they always tasted better right after I plucked (i.e. harvested) and washed them!

But as some wise gardener probably said at one point, the lives of all good plants must eventually come to an end.

Piddilywinks final days were spent on the rooftop in early November, when the temperatures began dipping into the 30s. She showed strength and resilience until her final day, when I carried her down to the dumpster in semi-ceremonial fashion. Even when her leaves rotted and withered away, she still hung on to her last remaining unripe tomatoes – hoping the would feed me one day.

Piddilywinks the Tomato Plant – November 15, 2014

Someday I won’t travel as much. Someday I’ll have a full-fledged garden. Someday I’ll read about the plants I intend to grow. And someday I’ll head to my backyard stead of the market for my produce.

But this year, I had a rooftop tomato plant. Her name was Piddilywinks and I miss her already.

R.I.P. Piddilywinks the Tomato Plant: June 17, 2014 – November 15, 2014.

Gnome Man’s Land: A California Fantasy Land 40 Years in the Making

Posted on November 12, 2014 by alyssa

Imagine walking into the backyard of an unassuming single family home, only to find thousands of pairs of beady little eyes peering out at you beneath pointy red hats. No, this isn’t the setup for some creepy B-horror film; it’s a dream-come-true for every hardcore gnome collector. This summer, I had the pleasure of visiting Gnome Man’s Land, an elaborate gnome home and garden in Santa Rosa, California. Now this is no fly-by-night gnome collection tucked away in the bowels of obscurity. Oh, no no. This is a gnomish fantasy land nearly 40 years in the making, operated by my good friend and personal idol, Jean Fenstermaker. Jean was inspired to create Gnome Man’s Land in the 1960s after a few key life events: her Disneyland storybook canal ride, her mother’s rock garden, and her friend who had two gnomes on an office desk. Jean’s first gnome garden was born on January 25, 1976 and spanned just 18 inches by 35 inches in size. From the very beginning, Jean loved to create mini-themes within her garden and stories about her gnomes. With some plant clippings from her mother and tiny bridges and accessories built by her woodworking father, her gnomes’ stories began coming to life. Over the years, Jean has created eight additional and separate gnome gardens in her backyard. There’s The Forest Rock Garden with wildlife, The Frog Garden with gnomes and amphibians co-existing in harmony, and the Life-Size Garden…which is, you guessed it, full of LIFE-SIZED GNOMES. But keep your britches on…even in real life, gnomes are still pretty tiny. You can find everyone from immigrant gnomes, partially-clothed gnomes using the bathroom, gnomes with gambling habits, gnomes fighting neighbor gnomes, and vegetable-growing gnomes lurking around every corner and begging for your attention. The spring and summer seasons bring local visitors, out-of-state travelers, and gnome aficionados from around the globe to Jean’s gnome home. The typical crowd comes from church groups, “red hatters,” and senior living facilities. Gnomes are pretty fragile, and I know that if I ever have kids, I’ll be keeping my gnomes safely packed away ’til they’re old enough to understand how awesome they are. I personally met Jean a few years ago through the International Gnome Club, where we are both tri-annual contributing newsletter writers. For over a decade now, I’ve gotten a kick out of being part of a subculture that baffles the other 99 percent of humanity. I also just need to put this out there: Jean’s husband, Jim, deserves a ton of praise and recognition. Jim has helped build the gardens, weeds the plants, prunes the roses, AND he enthusiastically socializes with random gnome fanatics wandering through his backyard. If I ever have a husband, he damned well better be as supportive of my gnome obsession as that Mr. Fenstermaker. And I’ll just leave it at that. Despite Jean and Jim’s attempts at keeping a low profile, they’ve been featured in lots of newspapers – most recently the San Francisco Chronicle, which led to two subsequent radio interviews. Jean’s garden was featured in the amazing book Gnomeland by Margaret Egleton (yes, I have a copy). And TV crews have been out to her Santa Rosa home from Home & Garden TV, The Travel Channel, and ABC’s Dream Home and Collectibles. Jean is one of the kindest and most welcoming human beings I’ve ever met. So much so that she made a sign (held up by a gnome, of course) welcoming my boyfriend and me to Gnome Man’s Land as soon as we pulled into the driveway. Gnome collectors truly are kindred spirits. After an extensive VIP tour of her gnome garden, Jean whipped out the Gnome Bingo cards and we settled in for some good ole’ fashioned non-monetary gambling with refreshments. Not surprisingly, each Bingo square depicted a themed section of Jean’s quirky gnome garden. Much to my grumbling stomach’s delight, she offered to cook a delicious dinner to share with us to further chat about all-things-gnome and all-things-non-gnome. All of the dishes were adorned with gnomes, and there were even gnome cookies for dessert. Can you say gnome overload? I was practically hyperventilating for hours. Jean has a true and unwavering passion for gnomes, and it shows so beautifully every time her eyes light up with the reflection of a red hat in the distance. She takes such pride in her home, yard, collection, and loyal following that I can’t help but admire her to the point of stealing her ideas for my own home display one day.

As I mentioned earlier, Jean and Jim like to keep a low profile. Although they are the friendliest of friendly to fellow gnome fans, they don’t exactly just open up their backyard to just anyone either.

You just can’t be too cautious with vandals lurking in the night. I keep up with daily gnome news, and nearly every day there’s a police report filed about gnomes being maliciously stolen, broken, and vandalized!

However, if you’re ever planning a trip to the Napa Valley region of California and would like to have the BEST DAY EVER, I’m might just be able to hook you up with a Gnome Man’s Land VIP Tour.

(Restrictions and fees may apply. Kidding. Sort of.) “Are there any real live gnomes in existence? If there are, I’d sure like to see one!” ~ The cautiously optimistic Jean Fenstermaker.

Exploring a Monkey Jungle in Miami

Posted on November 6, 2014 by alyssa

If you haven’t noticed a trend in my posts lately, I’m a big fan of primates…the non-human ones in particular. This year I visited a chimpanzee sanctuary, Chimp Haven, in Louisiana and a gorilla sanctuary, Dewar Wildlife Trust, in Georgia.

So when I recently found myself in Southern Florida, I did a quick search to see what furry friends might be in the area to greet me.

I came across a wildlife park called Monkey Jungle, which was established in 1933 by Joseph and Grace DuMond. It was Joseph’s dream to establish North America’s first free-range colonies of monkeys for researchers to study them in a natural habitat. The couple relocated from Connecticut to South Florida and purchased 10 acres of land because the climate here was similar to the monkeys’ home in Southeast Asia.

He began charging curious visitors $0.10 admission to fund his scientific studies, and there were originally no barriers between the public and the monkeys. However, Java monkeys are super territorial and after aggressively defending their new homeland a few too many times, Joseph put cages around the public walkways, thereby still allowing the monkeys to roam free.

I was initially a little skeptical about this place? Was it more of a sanctuary or more of a zoo? What’s life really like for the monkeys inside and what brought them to this strange, foreign place?

Although not a true sanctuary, Monkey Jungle is considered a “bio park” where conversationalists conduct projects and guests and learn about different primate species. About 400 monkeys roam around Monkey Jungle today, which now spans 30 acres, including an Amazon Rainforest area.

During my visit, I checked out four primate presentations put on by the staff. The first featured a feeding of treats to Java monkeys in a natural pool of water.

Then I “met” Mei, Monkey Jungle’s lone orangutan and King, the one and only Western Lowland gorilla on site. Finally, I watched an Amazonian Rainforest feeding with howlers, black-capped Capuchins, and squirrel monkeys.

My favorite of the four presentations were the Wild Monkey Swimming Pool. The Java monkeys truly seem to truly have it best at Monkey Jungle. Unlike the Diana Monkeys and the White Handed Gibbons, the Javas really do have free reign of the place and green space to climb and play. Meanwhile, some of the other species were kept in were kept in cages that resembled clean, yet zoo-like conditions.

One of the most fun aspects of visiting Monkey Jungle was feeding treats to the primates through tubes and hanging baskets. For a small fee, you can purchase raisins in tiny boxes at the front desk and feed the monkeys from a safe distance. I am terrified of raisins due to bad childhood memories, so I opted for some tasty cranberries instead. They wait patiently (or not so patiently) for visitors to drop fruits in the metal baskets and then yank them up for a mid-day snack.

To prevent endangered monkeys in the wild from becoming extinct, Monkey Jungle breeds monkeys like the Golden Lion Tamarin. Less than 500 of these exist in the wild.

The wildlife park recently broadened its conservation efforts to create a sanctuary for parrots that have been domesticated and then ditched by their owners. It works with the Wings of Love Foundation to build aviaries at Monkey Jungle to house parrots who have been displaced and can no longer be cared for.

To add to the mix, there were also some tortoises randomly roaming around…

And an lazy lizard that was working its way towards a whole new layer of skin!

It costs $29.95 to get in, however you can print a $2 coupon from the website to save a couple bucks for the snack bar. There’s also an amazing gift shop here that has everything a stuffed pink monkey lover could ask for.

Monkey Jungle is located just off U.S. 1 in South Dade, a short drive from the beach and bar scene of Miami. It’s an excellent pit stop on a road trip to Key West as well. Monkeys sure aren’t native to South Florida, but it seems like they’re doing well and enjoying themselves down here!

Mastering the Art of Haikus and Haibuns in Chicago’s Lurie Garden

Posted on October 28, 2014 by alyssa

At the suggestion of a couple of the fine ladies in my Creative Accountability Group (CAG) I started following events and happenings at the Poetry Foundation, an independent literary organization based in Chicago. I haven’t been to the actual foundation building yet, but apparently there’s a 30,000-volume poetry library there, as well as a public garden, exhibition gallery, and event spaces.

Each week, I would casually gloss over the foundation’s weekly emails, thinking, “Well that sounds like it might be interesting” or “I should really step out of my weekday routine and check one of these speakers or workshops out.” But I never did.

That is, until last Sunday.

One particular event caught my eye because of three key words: Haiku, Outdoor Garden, and Free.

Photo credit: Daniel X. O’Neil

The Poetry Foundation hosted a discussion on haibun, an ancient Japanese form of poetry, followed by an informal poetry workshop in Millennium Park’s Lurie Garden last Sunday morning. I’d never heard of the word “haibun” before, but apparently it’s a form of poetry that fuses prose with haiku. And traditionally, it describes travel and landscape scenes through vivid imagery. Sounded perfect for me!

A nice young library assistant, Maggie Queeney, began leading the workshop in the Millennium Park Choral Room, which by the way, is pretty hard to find if you’ve never looked for it before. A group of about 10-12 wannabe poets gathered around a conference table with their eyes glued to 4-page handouts.

A Japanese poet named Matsuo Basho originally developed the haibun form in his 1690 poem, The Hut of the Phantom Dwelling. The prose portion is supposed to describe a landscape that the poet moves through and end with a haiku that has vivid imagery and a 5/7/5 syllable pattern.

After reading and analyzing a few sample haibuns, we all trekked to the Lurie Garden with notebooks in hand. Maggie stopped us at six different points within the garden to scribble down objective observations and free write. Then we all regrouped in the classroom to put it all together.

Here’s how mine turned out:

——————————————————————————————————————–

METAL WILDFLOWER MAZE: A HAIBUN

One foot in the shade, one foot in the sun. I listen for the comforting sound of creaky wooden boards beneath the feet of uninspired tourists carrying cameras they don’t know how to use. A perfect amount of breeze pushes back a wisp of hair so I don’t have to.

Surrounded by walls of leaves, trapping me inside and holding me close. The tallest of plants stand taller than me, shielding my eyes from what lies on the other side. Can I venture in further and get lost from it all? An aircraft hovers above and a train whistle blows to answer my question: “No.”

Rare autumn sunlight
Creeps inside a walled fortress
Prevents progress from entering

Life is wilting in all directions, yet clinging on with an ounce of hope. Brown twigs and shriveled leaves have been living in the shadow of towering giants, but what sort of life is that? None of the residents have names because no one would speak them anyway.

Fuzzy tan curlicues make me giggle at my own senseless self-reflection and melancholy rant. Will these tendrils fall off like the thinning hairs on my own head?

Bricks have been forced into the ground, shoving grass and dirt far below. Native residents attempt to emerge and remind us of how they once ruled this man-made land. Tiny purple flowers are the only ones thriving in the foreground with mustard greens lurking behind. A salad no one dares to eat because, well salad is not from nature!

Wilting wildflowers
Gasping for sunlight – through
Towering metal beams

A round spiky ball on top of a wavering stem too tired to hold its weight. Perhaps the spikes will make you bleed. Perhaps you could blow them gently into the breeze. Hands begin to feel numb as I scribble down thoughts that everyone else has already thought of.

An incessant beeping for no reason is stuck between my ears. Construction is a euphemism for destruction and my sense of smell is evolutionarily phased out. Foreign phases uttered between the sickly wails of sirens. Always urgent, always an emergency, always in a rush.

Leaves spiral around before touching the ground and peer through metal beams towards the ominous, never-ending sky with one last blink.

A walled maze of leaves
Traps me willingly inside
Shields me from the world

——————————————————————————————————————–

Photo credit: Drew Saunders

If this post sparked your interest, check out the Poetry Foundation’s upcoming events and think about mustering up the courage to show up for something like I finally did. The Lurie Garden also has a few more random workshops for adults this year.

Maybe it’s no masterpiece, but I feel like I really got something out of this particular poetry workshop: a little time in nature, a little mindfulness reminder, and a little motivation to keep on writing creatively – even if it’s just for my own sanity.

Fall Road Trip Ideas for the Uninspired Traveler

Posted on October 22, 2014 by alyssa

Summer is little more than a fleeting memory in the rear view mirror of life, but that doesn’t mean that wanderlust fades away so easily.

Fall road trips are awesome because they renew the sense of summer adventure before having to worry about annoyances like ice, snow, and road closures. So quick, before winter sets in, hop in your ride and set off on a journey to somewhere…anywhere!

If you’re feeling a little uninspired, check out these recommended routes on Tripbase:

Sure, driving is more time consuming that booking a flight, but it’s consistently my favorite way to travel to keep costs down and the randomness quotient up.

Cheers!

Spelunking at California’s Lava Beds National Monument

Posted on October 22, 2014 by alyssa

As I recently discovered, one of the best ways to break up a West Coast road trip is by taking a slight detour to the Lava Beds National Monument. Located in that mysterious Northeastern corner of California, this park makes up the largest total area covered by a volcano in the Cascade Mountain Range.

Mammoth Crater erupted 32,000 years ago and sent massive lava flows 10 miles downhill, creating some really impressive tubes, caves, and boulder fields. Medicine Lake Volcano last erupted 950 years ago, and shifting tectonic plates in the Pacific Ocean could actually make it active again someday.

This area is also steeped in brutal American history, thanks to textbook clashes between the Modoc Native American Tribe and Euro-American settlers. But you don’t have to know much about the Modoc War of 1872-1873 to enjoy this bizarre scenery.

Surrounded by a high desert wilderness, this national park has over 700 caves, Native American rock art sites, historic battlefields, and campsites. Designated as a national landmark in 1925, Lava Beds has numerous lava tube caves, a couple dozen of which have marked entrances and developed trails you can venture down and explore.

The best part? You can explore these caves on your own without forking over cash for a guided tour or having to put up with annoying tourists huffing and puffing next to you.

Not surprisingly, the best place to start is the visitor center because you can rent flashlights out here for free. They are heavy, bulky, and painfully dim, but they will set you back zero dollars. Basically, if you don’t have one of your own, they’re better than nothing down there.

However, if you plan to spend a few hours at the park exploring the caves beyond just a few safe steps inside, splurge on an $8 plastic helmet at the visitor’s center. The cave ceilings get lower the farther you hike in and the ceiling rocks are dreadfully sharp. I had a head wound a couple years ago (the kind that requires 11 staples), so I wasn’t exactly into the mood to go through that all over again.

But before you lose yourself in the netherworld of spelunking, keep in mind that there are plenty of nice hikes above ground as well. Soak in the views of the cooled lava beds with gentle mountain peaks in the distance as you give yourself a mini history/geography lesson to stimulate some sort of brain activity.

You can wander around to your heart’s content around the lava rocks around Black Crater and Battlefield. This is an awesome place to hike if you don’t want some “trail expert” telling you where you can and cannot go. Vegetation is very minimal, so it’s pretty hard to get lost too. On the day I went, the crowds were unbelievably slim and the whole place had a super eerie vibe.

Definitely don’t miss out on hiking the Schonchin Butte, a 0.7 mile trail that feels about triple that because of the steep elevation. At the top, there’s a ranger station and the dude hanging out all alone inside was quite friendly. However, I truly wonder what he does all day up there.

As you get back in your car and drive along the park roads towards the main section of caves, there are lots of places to pull off and check out. The most accessible caves are surrounded by metal fences and a ladder that leads down to their cool and creepy depths.

To get a small taste of caving without much intensity, you can check out the Mushpot, an accessible cave with a high ceiling, paved surface, installed lighting, and lots of informational plaques to read.

If you’re craving some more caving at this point, you can either hike or drive along the main road to explore a few others. I hiked down and around Labyrinth, Lava Brook, Sunshine, and Sentinel during my time at the park.

But by far, one of the most awesome caves to check out is Skull Cave. Not only because it has a hardcore name, but also because the floor is covered in ice…even on a sunny 90-degree California day.

The trail down to Skull Cave isn’t very challenging, but it’s really unique. It’s a remnant of three large lava tubes situated on top of each other, and the rock ceilings are high enough so you don’t have to duck down at all. This odd setup traps the cold winter air and creates a year-around ice floor down a metal stairway on the lower level.

But why “Skull Cave?” Because two human skeletons and the bones of some pronghorn and bighorn sheep were once discovered inside…that’s why.

To pick out a few routes before you visit, check out this handy PDF of cave descriptions. All the caves are really chilly inside and regardless of the outside temperature, the caves range from about 30-55 degrees Fahrenheit.

Although visitors are free to roam around pretty much everywhere on their own, the caves are still fragile. So don’t touch stuff!

There’s also been an issue with white-nose syndrome, a deadly fungal bat disease that’s been killing off bat populations down there. Check the National Parks Service site for current cave closures because of this.

After visiting other national parks on busy summer days, I really appreciated the low crowds and the freedom to wander around on my own at Lava Beds. Mammoth Caves in Kentucky, for example, doesn’t allow visitors to explore the caves unless they’re part of an organized tour group. Mammoth is still an awesome place though, especially if you sign up for the hardcore 6-hour “Wild Cave” tour.

Lava Beds National Monument might seem a little out of the way for some travelers, but if you are in Northern California or are looking for a really unique road trip destination, I’d definitely recommend swinging by! Who knows, you might even find some of my gnome friends guarding the entrances…

A Night Out in Miami’s Little Haiti

Posted on October 15, 2014 by alyssa

Most people who go to Miami for the first time make a point to visit Little Havana, the well-known Cuban neighborhood with authentic cuisine, local art, and domino players in the park. I know I did when I first visited.

But there’s another “little” neighborhood in the city that often stays in the shadows. Little Haiti is South Florida’s cultural heart for the Haitian Diaspora, and unlike Little Havana, it retains an entirely un-touristy vibe.

On the third Friday of each month, the Little Haiti Cultural Center hosts a festival from 6-10pm that’s open to the public. The main goal is to provide a space to bring together people and ideas, while showcasing and supporting Afro-Caribbean culture in Miami.

It’s called “Big Night in Little Haiti” and it’s an evening of music, art, food, drinks, and opportunities to learn a little bit about Haitian history. I had no idea what to expect when I showed up and thought it could have been anywhere from a tiny neighborhood gathering of resident families to an all-out street bash.

It was somewhere in between…and totally worth a visit. Unlike pretty much anything else you’d choose to do on a Friday night in Miami, this festival is free to attend and has free parking nearby.

There were some local artists doing their thing and even an inviting classroom to wander into and create a sub par masterpiece of your own. The art instructors were doing an exercise using gold paint on black paper and invited me to come in and paint whatever I wanted.

As to not miss out on other festival happenings too much, I hastily painted an obscure nature scene, with of course, an awkward gnome lurking in the background.

Also inside the Little Haiti Cultural Center, there was a presentation/fundraiser going on to highlight the work of a famous Haitian jazz singer from a few decades ago. This was a place to bid on professional photographs positioned on the walls, listen to the artist’s music through headphones, and sip some free wine in a plastic cup.

And then there was the food. A cafeteria-style line formed outside beside a long table with Haitian home cooked foods like chicken, fried fish, rice, tostones, and spicy coleslaw. I washed my delicious dinner down with some rum punch with fresh pineapple!

The large meal was $10 and the generously-sized drink was $4. By Miami standards, this was an absolute steal. I’ll sit on the sidewalk and enjoy an authentic meal like this over an overpriced, over-hyped restaurant almost any day.

The monthly festival has been going on for a few years now and music is a huge part of the whole thing. A reggae-style band played during the entire festival and made me remember how much I really do enjoy a good reggae tune to bop along to in a crowd of strangers. Recently featured bands have included Moksha Roots, Harmonik, Tvice, and Zenglen.

Aside from the super-nice cultural center, other highlights in the neighborhood are the Haiti Sweat Records Building, Little Haiti murals, Churchill’s Pub, and small local shopping centers. A bronze statue of General Toussaint L’Ouverture, the father of Haitian independence, stands at Northeast 2nd Avenue and 62nd Street.

The Little Haiti neighborhood is totally off the beaten path of the tourist circuit and would be hard to pinpoint without a GPS. In fact, Miami residents have long been debating what to call this neighborhood because it has no formal boundaries or designated cultural protections. Some call it Little Haiti and and others swear it’s Lemon City.

“Nobody has a true definition of Little Haiti because there are no formal boundaries. It’s pretty subjective,” said historian and Miami Dade College professor Paul George.

“Every day you hear of a new group encroaching into what we know as Little Haiti,” said Marleine Bastien, a Haitian activist pushing for the designation. “These groups moved into Little Haiti, so I don’t understand why they don’t want it to be named Little Haiti anymore.”

Little Haiti gained its name as Haitian migrants, fleeing the regime of Jean Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier, moved into the neighborhood in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Haitian pioneer Viter Juste wrote a letter to the Miami Herald calling the area “Little Port-au-Prince,” and the newspaper headlined the letter “Little Haiti”. And the name stuck.

I’m all about finding authentic non-touristy things to do in places I visit…especially if it isn’t my first time in the area. Some of those ideas work out great and others are a total bust. The Friday festival at Little Haiti tops my list of recent undercover finds.

It’s pretty obvious that I’m not of Haitian descent, but I loved learning a little about Haitian history and joining such a specific celebration of local culture. So consider this an addendum to my previous blog post about non-transitional things to do in Miami and check it out next time you’re in the area!

Curing the Post-Travel Blues with a Dose of Fantasy: A Renaissance Fair Story

Posted on October 9, 2014 by alyssa

I’ll be the first one to admit I’m not immune to post-travel depression. I love the excitement and the uncertainty of being on the road, but being a homebody has never really been my thing.

After spending a couple weeks on the West Coast, immediately followed by an extended weekend on the East Coast, followed by my 31st birthday, I found myself seriously struggling to settle back into routine life.

Instead of getting down in the dumps and taking the notion of “routine” too literally, I opted for a dose of fantasy instead. It was the last weekend of the Renaissance Fair in Bristol, Wisconsin, and I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday.

A Renaissance Fair is like an amusement park for history buffs, fantasy freaks, and costume nuts across America. The first of its kind was the Renaissance Pleasure Faire in Agoura, California, and that kicked off back in 1963. Ronald and Phyllis Patterson, both school teachers, are credited with developing the fair as a simple school project, and dozens of replica events have popped up from coast to coast since that time.Renaissance fairs are set up resemble a fair or market day during the Renaissance Era, and they do a darn good job of doing so. Actors and actresses position themselves around the fair grounds singing, playing music, and engaging with festival-goers in wonderfully awkward ways.
Unfortunately, Renaissance Fairs don’t exactly offer Renaissance Era prices. Although everything is enticing and presented in clever ways, the event is a total money suck and there’s no way around it.

Regular adult admission tickets cost $23.95, but I was able to snag an online discount for $19.99. As as you make your way through the “town,” you’ll find more souvenirs, fair games, and food and booze stands than you can shake a valiant sword at.

First stop: the hookah tent! Who would have thought that a Renaissance Fair would have a comfy spot for flavored tobacco smoking situated right next to the entrance? In this shot, I’m patiently waiting for my watermelon hookah to arrive and sneakily people-watching between the tent poles.

This was an optimal people-watching spot because the lively Bristol Pub Crawl had gathered nearby. For $35 per person, fair-goers could join a raunchy Rated R pub crawl that comes with a traveling bartender, four drink tickets, and plenty of dirty stories and jokes along the route. There were about 20 beers on tap, as well as mead and a gluten-free cider.

Maybe next year?There were plenty of trolls around for sale, but no gnomes in sight. What a crying shame.
Of all the adorable booths selling unnecessary things, this one tempted me the most. How awesome would it be to walk around drinking beer out of a horn attached to a satchel?

Alas, my better judgment won out and I talked myself out of buying one. So sadly, my mediocre beer was drank out of a plastic peasant cup.
Now this I didn’t expect to see…a climbing wall! The scene seemed to be dominated by very small human types and I winced at the never-ending line. So I simply observed the spectacle that lay before me and critiqued the youngsters’ climbing skills…harshly.For whatever reason, turkey legs are a big deal at Renaissance Fairs, and it seems almost like a requirement to messily chomp away at one. Meat on a stick doesn’t really appeal to me, so I bought one for my carnivorous boyfriend and chose an artichoke for myself.

I had totally forgotten about the whole concept of artichoke, and they really are delicious when drenched in garlic and melted butter. As are most things.A feast fit for a king and queen, perhaps? Despite the crowds and the lines, I found myself incredibly relaxed and at ease strolling around the Renaissance Fair. Performers walked timidly across tightropes, ate burning flames atop sticks, and flipped around wildly in the air.

This type of sensory overload experience was exactly what I needed to feel alive and excited about the world around me.And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, it did.

I FOUND A GNOME.

According to pretty much every historical account in the books, gnomes weren’t around during the Renaissance. But here they were…selling mushrooms.

I asked the man behind the counter if he knew of any other gnomes lurking in the vicinity. He revealed to me that he used to run an entire shop full of gnomes at the fair. After I picked my jaw up off the dusty ground, I begged him to bring it back.

Maybe next year?
In other noteworthy sightings, someone had put together a really extensive medieval Lego village. How anyone possesses the patience for all this is beyond me.One of the most intriguing characters that I encountered at the Renaissance Fair was the Dragon Hatchery lady.

Here’s how it works: A kid puts a token into a box, it rolls around for a bit, and POOF! A puff of smoke fills the air and a dragon egg emerges into the world. I did always wonder where dragon babies came from.

It wouldn’t have been a complete Renaissance experience without attending a joust. Several sets of jousters battled it out on the field as sections of the audience joined forces and chose sides.

My section’s knight didn’t win, but I must admit he was pretty hot for a Renaissance dude. Eye candy is a form of winning, right?
So in the grand scheme of things, my Renaissance Fair story is more about a story of coping with things staying the same and remaining unchanged. Had I confined myself to my Chicago apartment on that Labor Day weekend Saturday, I would have drowned myself in sorrows of restlessness, discontent, and probably a couple bottles of wine.

But instead, I forced myself to keep exploring and to find unfamiliar things in too-familiar places. I took incredibly fond memories away from my first Renaissance Fair, and the only thing that would have made it better is a kick ass costume.

Maybe next year?

Resort Ruins and an Auto Graveyard: Rediscovering My Love for Hiking in Mt. Shasta

Posted on October 2, 2014 by alyssa

When I first started writing this blog, I couldn’t wait to write a detailed account of every trail I hiked, every river I kayaked, and every brewery I sampled. But over time, my writing has struggled to keep up with my adventures.

Come to think of it, I guess that’s a good thing.

No baby trees were harmed in the dramatic making of this photo shoot.

These days, it’s been more difficult to see each and every outdoor experience as “blog worthy.” What honestly makes this adventure stand out from all the others? Will this place really stick with me when other memories fade away?

Best of luck out there all alone, Hyundai

I recently went on two back-to-back hikes around Mt. Shasta, a small Northern California town that’s flanked by a towering mountain of the same name. After cranking out a few articles at a pretty sweet coffee shop in called Yaks, I drove to a remote parking area and swapped out the generic rental for a dusty pair of hiking boots.

Hikers were here, but where are they now?

Even from the first few steps, this trail sparked my interest. Abandoned fire pits and mysterious stone circles lie around every corner.

Evidence of mysterious rituals

The Ruins of Ney Springs Resort

Anonymous hikers on the Internet promised me a waterfall and some 19th century ruins along the Ney Springs Canyon, and that sounded pretty good to me.

In the late 1800s, several resorts were built in the Mt. Shasta area, one of which being the Ney Springs Resorts. It wasn’t as popular as the Shasta Springs Resort north of Dunsmuir, but it was still a nice getaway spot in the mountains for vacationers back in the day. A guy named Joh Ney discovered that there were springs here, and the resort was eventually able to pipe fresh spring water into the buildings and accommodate 50 guests.

The trail is poorly marked and not surprisingly, I took a wrong turn or five. I kept wondering how visible the ruins actually were, and if I would miss them without even noticing. Finally, I spotted a cistern next to the creek and figured this must be part of the dilapidated structures I was looking for.

First sight of ruins…a cistern!

After checking out the cistern for a moment, I turned back towards the trail and instantly saw the next bout of ruins in the distance…the fountain! This find was even better than the last. I was surprised that the cursive letters of “Ney Springs” and “1889” were still so easy to decipher.

There was a really eerie vibe here and a sense that more ghosts than hikers may exist within these ruins. It doesn’t seem like there’s been much effort to uncover more of the resort ruins, so who knows what lies beneath the overgrowth?

The Ney Springs Fountain, 1889

Still further inside the canyon lies Faery Falls, a 40-foot waterfall that seems to be the main draw for hikers today. The falls are about a quarter mile past the resort ruins, and there are several good spots up close to snap photos of the falls.

The Automobile and Appliance Graveyard

The Sacramento River flows to Box Canyon, where the Box Canyon Trail picks up and an automobile and appliance graveyard is tucked away in the woods. That’s right…this is the place where old cars and broken washing machines have gone to die.

Day hike #2

The mild trail began on the north side of the Box Canyon Dam, passing through pine, oak, and cedar trees. I couldn’t help but notice an intrusive golf course as I set the pace, but I stayed hopeful that far more interesting things were ahead.

Fortunately, I was right.

What is that I see among the trees?

A faded hunk of metal peered out at me from behind a tree. I blinked a couple times to make sure the summer sun wasn’t starting to make me loopy. But hen another, and another.

Apparently, Mt. Shasta residents used to simply push their unwanted cars and appliances down the hill to dispose of them. Everything is completely toppled over, rusted through, and in a total state of decay. So much for recycling!

The aftermath of someone’s once-beautiful car

But instead of feeling like I was walking through an old dump, I felt like I had stepped back into another time in history. It’s not every day that rusted car parts lie next to hundred-year-old trees, but it seemed to somehow make sense along this trail.

Although venturing off-trail is generally frowned upon in the hiking world, I couldn’t resist getting a closer look at some of this partially-preserved antique collection.

Check out my new ride!

Just when I thought I’d seen all the rubble along the trail, another piece of machinery appeared and beckoned me to come take a look. Who did this washing machine belong to and how long had it been buried down here?

Okay, who needs to do a load of laundry?

It’s baffling to me why people dumped their enormous (clearly non-biodegradable) trash here and why no one has ever bothered to clean it up. But I must say, this graveyard made for one of the most interesting hikes I’ve ever been on.

Stay on the Box Canyon Trail to actually venture into the canyon, which is steep and more challenging than it looks. I’m talking iron ladders mounted to cliffs, rock scrambles, and unsettling drop-offs.

Other Ney Springs Opportunities

I didn’t know it at the time, nor did I bring my climbing gear with me, but Ney Springs is also a fairly established rock climbing spot. I spy some climbers perched on that crag!

Apparently, the canyon’s north wall is the best place to climb, and the crags here are a top pick for winter climbing. The crags get a full day’s worth of sun, and the snow doesn’t build up much on the access routes. Maybe next time! If you’re heading that way, bookmark this Alpine Addict page for route info and beta.

Hiking in Mt. Shasta meant more to me than stumbling across dusty ruins and unwanted garbage. These two hikes make me remember why I love to hike in the first place – that is, to explore the outdoors at my own pace and encounter unexpected things along the way.

Each trail has it’s own personality, and that personality infiltrates my own when I set off into the woods. I understand that not every trail will have stunning features like Ney Springs and Box Canyon, but I’m going to keep a closer eye out for the subtleties and never underestimate the surprises nature has to offer.

Alyssa v. Nature

Where the nature outside collides with the nature inside