Sunwolf Adventure Center in the Outdoor Recreation Capital of Canada

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Ask any outdoor adventure enthusiast and they’ve probably at least heard of Squamish and Brackendale. Although often overshadowed by Whistler to the north and Vancouver to the south, these top sporting destinations offer up a side of small town hospitality with a main dish of big adventure.

Last Labor Day weekend, I booked a whitewater rafting trip with the adventure company, Sunwolf. Although I set up a tent at nearby Klahanie Campground in Squamish, the Sunwolf Adventure Center rents out ten private cabins with fireplaces, showers, and kitchenettes. The outdoor center is tucked away in rural Brackendale and the property features a large deck for grilling, communal campfire pit, playground, and a hot tub.

Upon arriving at Sunwolf, our well-organized guides promptly handed out liability waivers and preached the do’s and don’ts of whitewater rafting. After assisting the guides in hoisting two inflatable eight-person rafts atop a big yellow school bus, we set out for the drop point of the Elaho River. Sunwolf provided everyone with full wetsuits, neoprene boots, and helmets, which were included in the cost of the booking fee.

Halfway through the trip, we broke for lunch at an island along the shore for a gourmet wild Pacific salmon barbeque that was absolutely delicious. The Elaho’s Class III and Class IV rapids were no match for our paddling skills and the rafting trip was a success. When we arrived back at the Adventure Center, our guides gathered us in Fergie’s Café for well-deserved beers and a viewing of the photos their professional photographer snapped throughout the day. Since there were some great shots in the slideshow, I purchased a flash drive to better remember my awesome adventure.

As an outdoor adventure enthusiast myself, I have hired many guide companies over the years. Sunwolf was top notch in their service, availability, experience, and friendliness. Not only did our raft stay afloat the entire day, but met some great people and found a great guide company that I would recommend to anyone.

Solitude with Civilization in the Distance: Vancouver’s Stanley Park

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Although Vancouver’s Stanley Park is a popular tourist attraction, it is unbelievably easy to uncover peace and solitude among its wooded trails and rocky beaches. After a long day of sightseeing, I find myself needing to step away from the crowds, take a deep breath, and recharge. Miles of wooded trail lead me towards an vacant beach lined with peculiarly stacked rock formations. Although the city skyline is prominent in the distance, it is flanked by an equally impressive skyline of cedar and spruce trees.

Somewhere in this vast park, tourists and locals are dining at The Teahouse, riding a miniature train, and swimming in the public pool. But the only sounds I hear are the ocean waves brushing against the shore, the horn of a barge in the distance, and the shuffling of my feet in the sand. As the sun begins to set, I let my eyes soak up a final image and mentally prepare myself to migrate from nature to civilization. With a twinge of reluctance, I cannot help but notice how the pristine trail back to my Jeep shows no signs of human disturbance.  Stanley Park strikes a nearly perfect balance between the beauty of the city and the beauty of nature. Never have I felt so close to the world around me, but yet so far away.

From The Salt Lick To The Emergency Room…And Back

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Plenty of articles have been written about The Salt Lick in Driftwood, Texas.  This barbecue mecca between outside of Austin has been around for almost fifty years and boasts about its menu chocked full of brisket, ribs, sausage and turkey.The restaurant has become famous through features in People magazine, The Food Network, The Wall Street Journal, and winning the Today Show’s 2009 Barbecue Challenge Championship.

Although countless articles have been written about how amazing the food is and how gorgeous the event facilities are, I have never read an article about how a trip to The Salt Lick landed a patron in the emergency room. I am here to write that story.

My best friend, Michelle, and I have a tradition of going on a road trip together every summer. Although I live in Chicago and she lives in Atlanta, we pick one long weekend to catch up on girl stuff and explore a new place together. This past summer’s destination was Texas.

One of Michelle’s co-workers had told her about The Salt Lick after seeing an episode of Man v. Food. While road tripping from San Antonio to Austin, we felt it necessary to make a pit stop there for some lunch and see what all of the hype was about.

There was about a forty-five minute wait to be seated at The Salt Lick even though it was a weekday in the middle of the afternoon. As we grabbed our buzzer from the hostess, Michelle mentioned that her legs were were feeling numb and she had a painful, tingly feeling all over. I told her to sit down and relax while I walked around to check out the grounds of The Salt Lick.

I discovered that this was much more than just a restaurant. There were vineyards, a wine tasting shop, private dining rooms, smokehouse rooms, and a playground just steps from the restaurant parking lot. After exploring a bit and buying a glass of sangria, I went back to find Michelle in even more discomfort than before. The hostess soon took us to our seats and we placed our order. Despite her unexplained symptoms, Michelle was excited to try the brisket plate. Although I’m not a big fan of barbecue, I compromised for the sake of experience and ordered the turkey plate.

Once we placed our order, we pulled out our smart phones and began researching Michelle’s symptoms on WebMD. It quickly became clear to us that she very well may have a blood clot. Upon this realization, panic sunk in. I ran to a nearby waitress and frantically told her to cancel our order because I had to rush my friend to the hospital. I threw my arm around Michelle and helped her limp across the huge parking lot to my Jeep. My GPS told me that the nearest hospital was Seton Medical Center in Austin, so that’s where I drove.

After a grueling five hour wait in the ER, we relieved to find that Michelle did not have a blood clot. The doctor attributed her symptoms to a nutrient deficiency and recently sitting in planes and cars for long periods of time.

Slowly, Michelle’s physical and emotional state improved and we went on to enjoy a couple days exploring the street markets, random stores, and bars in Austin. On our final vacation day, we were headed back to San Antonio to catch flights to our respective cities. On the way, we decided to give The Salt Lick one more try.

There was no wait time to be seated. Michelle ordered the brisket plate and I ordered the turkey plate. We actually got to eat our barbecue this time and thoroughly enjoyed it. We tipped the waitstaff well, as they remembered us from the fiasco just a couple days before.

Lots of people probably have stories about their visit to The Salt Lick, but this is mine. Although I somewhat remember the barbecue, I will never forget how thankful I was to see my best friend feel well enough to scarf down a huge plate of barbecue with sauce all over her face.

Volunteering at Dunning Read Forest Preserve

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It was 104-degrees on the fifth of July and there I was….covered in dirt, sweating profusely, and pulling weeds.

You can’t be a nature lover without giving back to nature from time to time. Although I admittedly don’t make the time to volunteer as much as I should, putting in quality time with the environment is important to me.

It was a holiday weekend and I had the day off of work, so I signed up to volunteer at the 23-acre Dunning Reed Forest Preserve on the Northwest side of Chicago. I read about the need for volunteers in this preserve in a monthly REI newsletter. Finding environmental volunteer opportunities in the city of Chicago can be hard to come by, so these REI newsletters have definitely pointed me in the right direction a few times.

While waiting for a few last volunteers to arrive, the Park District coordinator Mary Eileen Sullivan, told us about the history of the preserve and the work that Friends of the Parks is doing to transform the preserve into a recreational area. The preserve consists of second-growth woods, a variety of wildflowers, and a large wetland area. Since 2007, Friends of the Parks has organized community members on a weekly basis to clear invasive species, replant native breeds, and attend outdoor education events in the preserve.

Shortly after 9:00am, Mary Eileen told our small group of volunteers that our project was to pull weeds and downed tree limbs from the overgrown trails to make them more accessible for visitors. We were provided with shovels, gardening tools, work gloves, and wheelbarrows, and we quickly spread out along the trail to get to work.

One volunteer working next to me was a young woman pursuing her doctorate degree and another was an elderly gentleman who drove in from the suburbs every week to volunteer in this preserve that his late wife loved spending time in. A small group of students from Muchin College Prep also joined the volunteer efforts later that morning. As we worked, we exchanged stories about our lives, our backgrounds, and what brought us to the trail that day.

The other volunteers and I spent most of our time using shovels and spades to pry stubborn weeds from the trails, piling them up, and hoisting them into wheelbarrows for disposal. After a couple hours and much to our relief, Mary Eileen presented us with a well-deserved feast of Cliff Bars and Gatorade to get though the rest of our shift.

Our workday ended around 1:00pm, and I was glad to rest my muscles and seek some shade. Even though I only contributed to a very small part of one very small trail, I felt good about spending my day off in the preserve instead of on my couch. For people like me who live in urban environments, I recommend contacting local park districts and outdoor gear retailers to learn more about opportunities to give back and truly fulfill the role of “nature lover.”

Discovering “Plan B” At Yosemite National Park

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The winding, mountainous roads made the drive from San Francisco to Yosemite National Park seem much longer than it actually was. My boyfriend and I were excited to trade in the daily grind of the city life for a few days of hiking, camping, and rock climbing in Yosemite Valley. We both thrive upon the peace and energy that only nature can provide.  We both are also very organized and planned our outdoor excursion down to the very last detail.  But as all travelers know, even the best itineraries rarely go as planned.

My boyfriend booked the campsite by contacting the National Park Service about a month in advance. The National Park Service’s website provides a link to review the different areas of Yosemite that have campsites and their availability. The price per campsite averaged a reasonable $20.00 per night. Additional information about nearby activities and amenities are also listed on this helpful site.

Although there was no park ranger on duty at the check-in booth, we easily found our Campsite #74 in the Upper Pines Region.  We were not familiar enough with the area to have a site preference, so we simply took the site that the park service assigned to us.  We later learned about the four campsite regions in Yosemite Valley: Upper Pines, Lower Pines, North Pines, and Camp 4. The first three regions are fairly similar and standard, but Camp 4 is a “first-come, first served” open space that requires no reservations. In addition to these options, there are also seven campsites north of Yosemite Valley and two campsites south of Yosemite valley.

The campsites in the Upper Pines were set reasonably far apart and the terrain was fairly smooth, although covered in patches of snow. We were able to park our car at the campsite next to where we pitched our tent. Each campsite had its own large lock box to store food inside so that encounters with bears would be less of a concern. All of our neighbors at the nearby campsites were quiet and one couple was kind enough to lend us their lighter fluid to get our struggling campfire started the first night.

Don’t be fooled by the movies…California is not warm and sunny year around. It was late March, and the temperatures dipped to nearly thirty degrees Fahrenheit each night. I gave myself a pat on the pack for splurging on that +10 degree down feather sleeping bag at REI for this trip. Since I had never camped in such chilly temperatures before, I had never considered using a sleeping mat before. I quickly learned that sleeping mats, such as this one from Alps Mountaineering, make a huge difference in staying comfortable and keeping warm.

Since my boyfriend and I have decent rock climbing skills, I contacted several climbing companies in advance to inquire about hiring a guide to summit some peaks in Yosemite. My search was quickly narrowed down, as I discovered that there was only one company that provided guide services inside the boundaries of the National Park and during the month of March.

This guide company, Yosemite Mountaineering School, was extremely accommodating and helpful throughout my contact with them while booking a ¾ day climbing excursion. I thought the price of $200.00 per person for a 6 hour guided climb was pretty steep. However, this was our only option and we really wanted to have the bragging rights of climbing Yosemite. Information about the options and pricing can be viewed on the YMS website.

The staff at Yosemite Mountaineering School advised us to meet their guide, Josh, in the Curry Village Mountain Shop at 9:00am and to bring our own lunch, water, climbing shoes, and harnesses. On the night before our scheduled climbing excursion, rain poured down on our tent and flooded the terrain around us. After a cold and uncomfortable night in the tent, my boyfriend and I awoke at dawn and wondered if the weather conditions would hinder our climbing plans.

Although cell phone reception in the park was sparse, I was finally able to reach Josh to discuss the weather conditions and our plan for the day.He told me that he had gone out earlier that morning to scope out the climbing areas and that pretty much everything was flooded and nearly every rock face was wet and slippery. He advised against taking us out to climb and asked if we had the flexibility to reschedule for another day. Unfortunately, this was our last day in Yosemite so we simply had to cancel our reservations.  I really appreciated Josh’s honesty about the hazardous weather conditions and consideration for our safety.

Yosemite Mountaineering School gave us a full refund, with no hassles. Although, he and I were disappointed about not being able to climb that day, we quickly agreed upon a “Plan B”. We spent the day hiking the trail to the upper waterfall. The trail boasted a challenging 7.2 miles had pretty much every type of terrain I could imagine: rock, dirt, sand, grass, mud, water, snow, ice, and concrete. A helpful guide about the various hiking trails at Yosemite can be found on the National Park Service website.

Although our initial plans of rock climbing didn’t work out, we were not disappointed at all. And although Yosemite has been photographed countless times, there is truly nothing like experiencing the beauty of Yosemite first hand. Periodically stopping to take a deep breath and view the vistas along the way brought us a sense of peace, acceptance, and appreciation for the opportunity to be where we were at that
very moment.

How I Popped My Canyoneering Cherry

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As an outdoor documentary junkie, I’ve seen plenty of other people’s canyonnering adventures from the comfort of my couch. But as I braced myself against the rugged terrain in the back of a mini van on the way to Zion National Park, I realized I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

My boyfriend and I recently traveled to Zion National Park near Springdale, Utah to give this whole canyoneering thing a try. Although I consider myself an outdoor enthusiast, this was my first time navigating canyons. Although he had gone canyonnering once before in Moab, Utah, we found ourselves at a similar skill level throughout the trip.

According to Wikipedia, canyoneering is “traveling in canyons using a variety of techniques that may include other outdoor activities such as walking, scrambling, climbing, jumping, abseiling, rappelling, and/or swimming.

About a month before our trip, I contacted four guide companies to discuss their features and pricing. After weighing all of our options and our experience level, I hired Zion Rock and Mountain Guides. This guide company seemed to offer the best price for the best overall experience, and I would highly recommend them to anyone traveling to the Zion area.

They set us up with a different guide on each of the two days we booked excursions. We met a guide each morning at the company’s gear shop and loaded our gear in their mini van to take us to the best canyoneering locations. The drive out to the canyons was an adventure in and of itself. The terrain was rocky, the inclines were steep, and the cliffs were intense. Mormon communities were prevalent in the area, and one of our guides even pointed out Warren Jeff’s polygamist sect as we passed by.

Our first day in the canyons involved mostly hiking and rappelling. After a long stretch of trail, my boyfriend and I took turns harnessing ourselves to the rope and rappelling down to base level. Rappelling is essentially moving down a steep incline or past an overhang using a double rope secured above and placed around the body.

Our second day in the canyons involved more technical navigation of bouldering, stemming, and climbing. The tight crevices required us to climb over large rocks and use all four limbs to push against the sides of narrow passageways to reach the other side.

Although I did my research before our canyoneering trip, I was never able to find a good beginners’ guide to the sport. I learned a lot from “winging it” on my first experience and I can’t wait to get back out there for round two.

Lesson Learned #1: You’d better get over your fear of heights because not rappelling is not an option.

There is no getting around it. Canyoneering involves a lot of rappelling and you’d better get comfortable with it quickly. I developed my own rappelling strategy, which I defensively referred to as “slow and steady wins the race”.

Meanwhile, he zipped down the lines as quickly as possible, with the greatest of ease. Personally, I was in no hurry to get down, as long as I got down safely and without losing my cool.

Lesson Learned #2: You’re going to get soaking wet no matter how hard you try not to.

Before this trip, I was convinced that canyoneering was all about rappelling. Not true. On our first day in Zion, we hiked for about an hour before we even saw a single rope. At times, we tossed off our backpacks and bouldered across unpaved trails and flowing streams.

Just moments after this photo was taken, I lost my footing and splashed into the pit of water below me. Fortunately, it was over 90-degrees in the Utah sunshine, so drying off was a non-issue. I laughed, squeezed the water of my socks, and chocked it up to “the learning curve”.

Lesson Learned #3: The guide you have makes a huge difference.

Our guide on the second day went above and beyond to teach us the specifically skills that we would need to venture out on a canyoneering trip by ourselves, which is definitely something we are interested in doing. Although our guide on the first day was knowledgeable, he stuck to the basics and only took us to the pre-planned routes.

This just goes to show that you can do all the research you want to compare guide companies, but you never know who will be your guide and/or how well that particular guide will accommodate your needs and desires. Both of them ensured that we used proper safety techniques, which in the end, is the most important quality in a guide.

Lesson Learned #4: Proper gear is essential to not being miserable.

If you hire a guide company, such as Zion Rock & Mountain Guides, they should be able to provide all the essential gear that you will need. They provided my boyfriend and I with harnesses, helmets, and canyoneering boots. There are a few different options for canyoneering boots based on how much water you’ll be going through and how much traction you need for the rock on your trails.

On our third day in Zion National Park, we decided to do a few of hikes marked as “strenuous” in our campsite brochure. The first hike we tried was The Narrows. Our guides from the past two days raved about this hiked and casually mentioned that there would be a good amount of water included on this hike. The Narrows had well more than a “good amount of water”. It was practically hiking through a river with a moderate flow.

Somewhat unprepared for what we found, we started the hike in shorts and basic hiking boots. Other hikers around us were decked out in wetsuits, hiking sticks, and waterproof boots. The water was well below 50-degrees, the rocks were sharp and slippery on our bare feet, and the current nearly made us wipe out on several occasions.

After hiking three segments of The Narrow, we reluctantly turned around to find a trail that we were better suited for and that we could enjoy more. We ended up hiking Angel’s Landing, which was exactly what we were looking for in a strenuous hike.

Lesson Learned #5: Push yourself because you can probably do more than what’s within your comfort zone.

There were a couple moments on our trip that I got out of my comfort zone and completely lost my confidence. I yelled out “I can’t do it!” (with a good number of expletives thrown in) more than a few times. Neither one of our guides (or my boyfriend for that matter) would accept this. They would yell down from top of the canyon “Just do it!” and thrown in an equal number of expletives for good measure.

This photo was taken at the most difficult moment of the trip for me. The canyon walls were far apart. The water was deep and disgusting. My energy level was low and my body was exhausted. But I am happy to report that I successfully completed this route without slipping, injuring myself, or falling into a pit of sludge.

I tend to think that my mind and body have certain limitations, but those limitations can often be pushed further when situations require it. Canyoneering made me realize this about myself and boosted my confidence that I can do much more, both physically and mentally, than I really expect myself to. Needless to say, this will not be my last canyoneering trip and I will always remember what I learned from my first experience in Zion.

Where To Go Off-Roading In Indiana

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After totaling my four-door sedan in a flood last year, I finally saved up to buy the vehicle I’d always wanted, a Jeep Wrangler. Although I live in Chicago, I didn’t want to be one of those Jeep owners driving only to work and back on paved highways. To become a true Jeep owner, I felt I needed to take my new set of wheels off the beaten path and give off-roading a try.

There are very few options for rugged terrain in the Midwest. But with a little online research, I discovered an off-road park called The Badlands in Attica, Indiana. The website boasted of 800 acres of off-roading, featuring everything from sand dunes to gravel hills to mud puts to wooded trails.

My boyfriend and I drove out to The Badlands recently to test exactly what my new Jeep could do. As we approached the Attica exit, the dark clouds were ominous and the scent of rain hung in the air. I couldn’t help feel like something foreboding was ahead of us.

Turning into The Badland’s entrance felt like entering an alternate universe. We waited in a long line of Jeeps, ATV’s, small monster trucks, and dirt bikes to check in with the registration office. The dusty air was filled with sounds of roaring engines and cheering crowds. We found a parking spot near the office and paid a $25.00 daily fee to enter the park.

I felt clueless as I drove my shiny new Jeep towards the trails. Dozens of hardcore vehicles that looked far better suited for this place whizzed past me, as my boyfriend gave me crash course on using four-wheel drive.

Halfway into one particularly steep route, I panicked when my Jeep became tilted almost completely sideways. After a good ten minutes of freaking out, the ever calm and collected he pushed me out of the driver’s seat and maneuvered the Jeep into a far more stable position.

Since the park closed at 5:00pm, we were only to get in a couple hours of off-roading. Honestly though, a couple hours for my first time was plenty. The constant jolts from driving over boulders and trees, as well as (what seemed to me as) death-defying cliffs were enough to send my blood pressure and nerves through the hard top.

I was glad to get out of the Jeep and check out the rest of the park. We walked over to a small concession stand under a sign simply marked “Food”. As we chowed down on some cheese fries, I couldn’t help but notice how he and I looked out of place among the crowd….me in a sundress and him in surfer shorts.

After our afternoon snack, we decided to check out one of the professional off-roading shows that were going on. On this particular weekend, The Badlands was hosting the Ultimate Motorsports Championship (UMC) Festival and the King of the Hammers (KOH) Qualifier Events.

The vehicles entered in the events included class A, B, and C trucks, stock and super modified UTV’s, and class and mini buggies.

We plopped ourselves atop of a dirt hill and watched one of the qualifier races for about an hour. As with most races, the most exciting part to watch were the accidents.

Fortunately, no one was seriously injured, but a couple vehicles tipped and rolled over throughout the course of the race. The crowd watched intently as emergency service rushed in and created obstacles for the other competitors as they barreled by.

From the competitive events to the people watching, spending a Saturday afternoon at The Badlands was one of the most unique experiences I’ve had. I learned that I have a long way to go to become a professional off-roader.

For now, I’m just happy that my Jeep proved itself among the well-experienced vehicles and that I’m a step closer to becoming at true Jeep owner.

Hiking Boots and High Heels

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“You’ve reached the desk of Alyssa Ochs with Wexler Wallace. I am current out of the office and will be returning on Tuesday, March 20th. For immediate assistance, please dial zero and your call will be redirected to someone who can assist you.”

In the corporate world, there are few things more satisfying than setting the”out-of-office” reply on your phone and email. For the next several days, I would not be answering phone calls from angry clients or frantically preparing documents for last minute filings. For the next several days, I would hiking, climbing, and camping in Yosemite National Park with my boyfriend.

Planning outdoor excursions was the only thing that really got me through the daily grind of working at a law firm recently. The legal field never really did fit my interests or my personality, but yet after seven years I still found myself wearing a suit and pushing papers around.

My boyfriend and I caught a late flight out from Chicago to San Francisco so we could get an early start the next morning. The sun had barely risen when we set out on the winding, mountainous roads from the bay area towards Yosemite.  We could barely see through the rear window of the rental car because of all of the tent supplies, sleeping bags, cooking gear, and duffel bags stacked up on the back seat.

Even though there was no park ranger on duty, we easily found our reserved campsite #74 in the Upper Pines Region and parked the car once we arrived. The drive seemed to have taken an eternity because we were so anxious to get into our hiking gear and onto our first trail of the day. I couldn’t help but notice how my toes felt so much better in my hiking boots than in the high heels I usually had on during the day.

With a quick glance at the map, we decided to start hiking the Upper Yosemite Falls Trail. The terrain was rugged and unpredictable. An uncertain combination of rock, sand, snow, water, and ice kept us guessing with each cross-back of the trail.

Out of a sense of pride, I tried to hide the obvious fact that I was becoming short of breath and starting to wheeze with the increased elevation. Although I suffered from a moderate asthma condition as a teenager, it rarely affected now, and I always thought of myself of being in pretty good shape. But then again, I had also gotten pretty accustomed to city life, flat terrain, and minimal physical challenges.

At least I wasn’t alone in my struggles. he had somehow forgotten to pack his hiking boots, so we had to stop at an REI on the way to pick up new ones. Apparently the grip on the boots wasn’t as good as his tried-and-true pair because he slipped and fell on the icy patches on several occasions. Fortunately, we were prepared with the basic $14.99 first aid kit and wrapped his bleeding hand and elbow with some bandages and gauze.

As we were getting more accustomed to the terrain and elevation, the sun started to dip below the mountain tops. It was about 6:00 and with a quick calculation, we realized that if we kept ascending to the top of Upper Yosemite Falls, we would never make it back down before sunset. After some time of mulling it over, we decided to be safe and head back down even though it was less than a mile to the top of the summit.  We were both a little less chatty on the trek down, silently brooding about not accomplishing what we set out to do that day. However, I finally convinced myself to look at this situation as an opportunity to come back to Yosemite another time in the near future to finish what we had started.

I knew I would be back because this place felt like home to me. More than this one specific national park, Yosemite reminded me of the beauty of nature, the peacefulness of solitude, and the open-minded perspective that I truly desire in my life. Back at my law firm in Chicago, I ride a jaded roller coaster of restlessness and discontent…responding to friendly inquiries with “Same shit, different day.”

After we arrived back at our campsite, we pitched our tent and were finally able to get our campfire started after many unsuccessful attempts. I grabbed a six-pack of beer from the bear-safe container and was finally able to relax and reflect upon my day.

I stared into the flames and asked myself, “Why can’t more days be like this? Why can’t I find a way to spend my days outdoors doing what I love? Why don’t I ditch the Midwest and to move to a place like that feels like home to me? Why can’t I give the middle finger to societal norms and travel around the world to learn and to grow before obligations catch up to me? Why can’t I try to make a living writing about my travels and have more confidence in my abilities to make something happen?”

I couldn’t come up with answers to any of these questions. If I had those answers, I would have my life figured out and this wouldn’t be my story. After excusing myself to take a pee behind some nearby bushes, I kicked aside some logs to make room to lie down upon the cold, hard ground and look up at the stars.

Yosemite was once place where I felt at home. This made me wonder how many other places could make me feel at home too. I had always felt the pressure to keep a tight grip on my steady job, my nice apartment, and my stable routine. But as I stared up at the night sky, I realized that I truly didn’t want any of those things at this time in my life.

I heard my boyfriend calling me and I snapped back to the reality to help him clean up the campsite and return the food scraps to the bear-safe container. We put out the fire and snuggled into our sleeping bags, exhausted but still excited for the next day of exploring the Vernal and Nevada Falls.

The brightness of the stars shone through the mesh of our tent just enough to illuminate my face and reveal a tear running down my cheek. My boyfriend pulled me an inch closer and whispered, “I know. I want those things too.” I brushed my tear away, adjusted my makeshift sweatshirt pillow, and fell into a more peaceful sleep than I ever did back home on my Memory Foam king sized mattress.

Five Ways to Cope With Being Sick on Vacation

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I went on my first overseas trip to Ireland in the Spring of 2009. I had been planning this vacation with two of my high school girlfriends for the past year. I had done all of my research. I had packed all the right things. I had everything under control….except my health.

These are five ways that I coped with being sick on my first overseas journey.

1. Create a cocktail of prescription medication and alcohol

My travel companions, Jen and Janet, boarded the plane with me and we settled in for our overnight flight from Chicago to Dublin. I was coughing, sneezing, and blowing my nose every minute. I figured the best strategy was to sleep it off, in hopes of waking up refreshed and healthy. Jen offered me a high-dose prescription sleeping pill, and I downed it with an Amstel Lite the flight attendant brought me.

Within about twenty minutes, the plane started spinning. I was dizzy and sweating profusely. Perfect. I felt my on-flight dinner creeping up from my stomach as I crawled over Jen and Janet’s laps to run to the lavatory. I slept six hours in a pill/beer cocktail stupor. Thanks near-fatal drug cocktail!

2. Spend a lot of time outdoors in cold, rainy environments 

Ireland in May is very rainy, windy, and averages about 50 degrees every day. Although my travel mates and I packed sweaters and umbrellas, we were constantly walking around in the rain to get from one historic castle to another in and around Dublin.

The worst weather day just so happened to be the day we planned to spend the most time outdoors in Killarney National Forest. Bright and early, we boarded a train to Killarney to do some hiking, canoe, and island exploring. Our favorite part of the area was Muckross Abbey, which was an island we reached by canoe.

There were ancient preserved ruins from a monastery and leper colony from the 11th to 13th centuries. After a full day of exploring, we started making our way towards the park exit. However, we didn’t have a map, we had no idea where we were going, and a torrential downpour started. Hours later, we finally saw a recognizable building and made it out of Killarney National Forest. However, this outing certainly didn’t help my sickness whatsoever.

3. Drink excessive amounts of heavy beer 

Back in Dublin, Jen, Janet, and I did the requisite tour of the Guinness Storehouse. This tour took us on a journey of five levels, each of which including drinking Guinness. It was at this time that I learned that both Jen and Janet hated heavy beer. I love beer of all shapes, sizes, and varieties, and I’m more than willing to help out my friends in need.

Not only did I finish my beers at each of the tour’s floors, but I also finished my friends’ beers so they wouldn’t go to waste. I’ve heard people say that alcohol kills germs, but I’m pretty sure that this level of heavy drinking set my recovery back a bit.

4. Flirt with the hot Bed and Breakfast owner 

After we had seen most of the main sites in Dublin, my travel mates and I took a train to Cork. We found a quaint little town that was very inviting and intriguing. I had booked us reservations for two nights at a bed and breakfast along one of the main streets in Cork.

As soon as we rang the doorbell, we were greeted with a friendly welcome by a very handsome gentleman, who invited us sit down for afternoon tea. I couldn’t stop staring at the attractive bed and breakfast owner and told my travel mates that I would make him my husband, move to Cork, and help him run business.

With my runny, red nose and my periodic coughing fits, I felt anything but attractive myself. However, I mustered up the courage to go strike up a conversation with my “future husband”. Not more than three minutes into the small talk conversation, I felt a sneezing fit coming on and let out eighteen sneezes in a row without stopping. I was mortified and he had a look of pity in his eye. Needless to say, I do not live in Cork and I am not married to a hot bed and breakfast owner.

5. Get a tattoo

I have always loved Celtic artwork and got a Celtic spiral with a henna design tattooed on my hip many years ago. Before my trip to Ireland, I picked out a design for my next tattoo, which was a Celtic compass star. The design for this tattoo was based off a song that I wrote the previous year. The chorus was :

No star to guide through the desert,
No compass to guide through the sea,
Footsteps sink into the beaten path,
Towards where I’m meant to be.

It was difficult to find a tattoo parlor in Dublin, but we finally found one. The tattoo artist working there was a very nice young woman with many beautiful tattoos of her own. By this point in the trip, I had completely lost my voice. In whispers, I explained to the tattoo artist how I had decided upon this particular tattoo. For some reason, she automatically assumed that I was a famous singer-songwriter from the States and that my voice was gone because of my recent shows. I played along and didn’t see any need to reveal to her that I was an unpublished songwriter with walking pneumonia.