USA Travel Stories

An Alaska Cruise Offers Many Sights

by Lauren Kramer

With a deafening roar, a 600-pound chunk of ice breaks suddenly from the edge of the tidal glacier and plunges with a ginormous splash into the ocean.”You’ve just seen an iceberg calving, folks,” comes a too-cheerful voice from the loudspeaker of Holland America’s Zuiderdam, which, at this moment, is cruising in an Alaska waterway known as Glacier Bay. Snow-capped mountains soar into the sky and blue-tinged tidal glaciers stretch as far as the eye can see.

Around me, people with cameras and binoculars pressed to their faces are exclaiming in wonder. “What a sight!” I hear someone say. “Isn’t that amazing!”

Three miles away from that calving glacier, our cruise ship is drifting while its captain carefully avoids the minivan-sized chunks of floating ice that surround us.

“If we were in the way of that calving iceberg, it could easily sink the ship,” Captain Werner Timmers confesses to me later from the Bridge, where he and a handful of finely uniformed navigation officers control the direction and speed of the 3,082-person-capacity vessel.

I am glad for his sharp wits, for despite the day’s bright sunshine, I have no inclination to go swimming. Fall overboard in this water, its temperature hovering at the freezing point, and hypothermia would kill you within two-to-four minutes. “The lifejackets are only there to help identify and locate the bodies,” a passenger quips.

There are parts of Alaska, such as this inside passage of Glacier Bay, that are pristine, untouched by human hands and breathtakingly beautiful. But there are also parts of the landscape where gift shops, restaurants and souvenir stores are ubiquitous, and the shopping landscape looks much like many American small towns.

Skagway, Alaska is one such place. The historic gold rush city that forms one of the major ports of call for many massive cruise lines including Holland America, Skagway has been completely transformed since cruise ship passengers began walking off the gangplank in the 1980s.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays are big days for us,” confesses Carlin “Buckwheat” Donahue, who heads up communications for the Skagway CVB. “Some days we get 9,000 tourists coming into town.”

The city wasn’t always flooded with tourists. In 1982, the closure of a major ore mine left Skagway in a state of economic depression, with an unemployment rate of 60 per cent.

“It was devastating for us,” Buckwheat reflects. “We looked at the opportunities, and decided to actively start courting the cruise lines.”

The courtship worked, and the arrival of the ships brought a revival to Skagway, with new stores and an influx of 1,800 new summer workers to man the tourism boom. “We went from economic depression to having the highest income in the state,” Buckwheat says.

That has brought changes, good and bad. For one, only 16 of the 80-odd stores on the main strip of Broadway Street are now locally owned, the majority of them multi-national chains selling gifts and jewelry.

An hour after the last cruise ship pulls away from the dock in September, 80 per cent of the city’s stores are closed and boarded up for the next seven months. “This city undergoes an amazing transformation then,” says Buckwheat, with more than a trace of irony.

One attraction that draws most visitors to Skagway is the White Pass & Yukon Route train. Passengers embark on a three hour ride on a route that snakes around the mountain curves, teetering close to the edge of many precipices.

The history of the railroad parallels the history of Skagway, so more than a relaxing way to appreciate the scenery, this railroad trip gives visitors insight into the city’s genesis and development.

It began in the 1890s with the discovery of gold, when tens of thousands of prospectors, the vast majority highly inexperienced in the area’s somewhat hostile terrain, tried to get to the Klondike to make their fortunes.

The steep valleys we pass along the way hold the bones of 3,000 unfortunate horses, for whom the torturous trail at the turn of the century proved deadly.

By 1900 the railway’s 110 miles of track were completed, not without a few fatalities. We pass a massive boulder, and are told of two railway workers who were crushed to death beneath it while toiling on the railroad. No-one was ever able to move the boulder, so their remains are interred in the same place they met their end.

We learn, on the journey, that of the 100,000 prospectors who tried to reach the Klondike gold fields, less than half made it there and only 4,000 of them found gold.

But though they left Skagway to seek greener pastures, the railroad built to help them get there continues to this day, with a long, endearing history.

For the past 100 years, it has been an economic lifeline to Skagway, transporting the gold mining operations of the first stampeders and later assisting the large corporations who control mining in the Klondike.

The railroad closed for six years in 1982, when world metal prices plummeted and the mines closed. But by 1988, the trains were hurtling merrily along the tracks once again, this time as a narrow gauge excursion railroad for Skagway visitors.

It is a relief, though, to clamber back on the ship after a full day of sightseeing and touring, and to surround yourself with the familiarity of its 11 decks.

Dusk is settling in as we pull away from port, and within hours, we are surrounded by heavily forested mountains, waterfalls tumbling from great heights down their steep slopes.

As the melancholy sound of the ship’s horn fills the air, we disappear into the misty night.

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes freelance travel writer Lauren Kramer, who lives in Richmond, a suburb of Vancouver, B.C.

About the photos:
1: Holland America’s Zuiderdam in Glacier Bay. Holland America photo.
2: Passengers up and close to the glacier face. Holland America photo.
3: Snow-capped peaks form a backdrop for Skagway. Photo by Andrew Cremata for Skagway CVB.

Big Island Road Tripping: Exploring the Ka’u District

by Chris Millikan

Alternately munching creamy macadamia nuts and sipping robust island coffees, we head for Ka’u…and volcano country. Along the Big Island’s backside, my hubby and I investigate the Hawaiian archipelago’s most unpopulated district, a vast landscape the size of Oahu.

Before settling into our Ocean View digs, we hike a three-kilometer interpretive trail in the 25000-acre Manuka Reserve. Sweet birdsongs and wild boar hoof-prints accompany us across ancient lava flows, through luxuriant rainforest and past old agricultural sites.A deep, greenery-covered pit crater marks the halfway point. We valiantly practice melodic Hawaiian plant names all along the well-marked lava rock trail; except for gnarled kukui nut trees, we recognize few of forty-eight native and one-hundred-and-thirty introduced species.

Later hobnobbing with locals at the busy pizzeria, we learn that businesses here are still family owned. Resort-free, they fondly refer to Ka’u as the final frontier. Residents just love their rural-style lives; scores of hidden upland strawberry, lettuce, coffee and protea farms flourish in dry, volcanic rubble…and guys hunt feral pigs on weekends.

Kick-started by memorable breakfasts amid stunning panoramas at Bougainvillea B&B, we plunge into several days jammed with fascinating sights. Kau’aoha’no Church steeple first signals arrival in tiny Waiohinu town, boasting an enormous monkey pod tree planted in 1866 by Mark Twain.

Standing beneath spreading branches vibrating with wildly chirping birds, my hubby quips, “Hey! No pods!” I snort, “No monkeys, either!” Although the original tree-trunk blew down during a hurricane in 1957, it has fully re-grown.

Neighboring Na’alehu is billed as the USA’s southernmost town, but its most tantalizing claim to fame is Punalu’u Bakeshop. Whiffs of fresh-baked Hawaiian sweetbreads entice us inside to savor purple taro rolls and warm mango malasadas, renowned melt-in-your-mouth confections, before investigating Whittington Beach Park’s fascinating lava tide pools.

We continue to Punaluu’s ultra-popular Black Sand Beach. Formerly an early Hawaiian settlement and later a shipping port, today’s park protects threatened green turtles. Immediately, we spy two mottle-shelled beauties basking on soft black sands; others flip and swim in the small bay fed by cold, freshwater springs.

Six miles away, a former sugar town nestles along Mauna Loa’s slopes. When Pahala’s mill closed in 1996, macadamia nut orchards replaced miles of sweeping cane fields; early 20th-century plantation mansions were restored as distinctive rentals for visitors. Most recently, small coffee farms have sprung up on the fertile hillsides.

Miles above Pahala’s ranchlands and native forests, remote Wood Valley shelters a Buddhist temple established in 1973, twice sanctified by the Dalai Lama.

Originally built as a turn-of-the-century Japanese Mission, today’s brightly coloured temple sits amid eucalyptus, stately palms and bamboo. Wild jasmine and ginger perfume the serenity of our stroll in one of Hawaii’s most secluded spots.

Another spectacular day, we check out the USA’s southernmost point. On route, Kamoa Wind Farm’s gigantic windmills tower above rolling emerald pastures filled with grazing cattle; scattered ohi’a trees bend to constant winds.

At the end of the road, spectacular windswept sea cliffs jut into the turbulent Pacific. Considered first landfall in the islands for seafaring Polynesian explorers, remains found in lava tube caverns riddling this area suggest settlements as early as 200AD.

And at an ancient Heiau platform near Ka’Lae light beacon, fishermen continue to leave branch coral, bamboo poles and fishhooks, gifts for the god of fishermen.

Below this rocky point, we watch fishing buddies balance sure-footedly on ‘suicide rock,’ casting for bait in seething surf, hoping they’ll later catch prized ahi or ulua. Other fishermen perch on craggy cliff tops; flimsy-looking platform hoists haul gear from boats anchored far below.

south point big island Near these wooden platforms, azure-blue seawaters surge up the sides of a puka in the lava…and gently recede. With meticulous timing, divers leap into this deep hole, ride through the lava tube into open ocean…climbing back up the cliff on rusty ladders…

Before leaving South Point, many trek more than 2-miles across a grassy plain…buffeted by vigorous headwinds…to an arduous trail down to Mahana Beach, aka Green Sand Beach and its unusual golden-green olivine sands.

Our last day, we rediscover ever-popular Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park, brimming with highlights. With maps and hot tips supplied at the Visitor Centre, we start near the parking lot where a paved trail and boardwalks meander through pungent Sulphur Banks.

volcano big island hawaii Billowing volcanic gasses seep from the ground, enshrouding treeless landscapes and depositing acid-yellow crystals on surrounding rocks. Returning atop the crater’s rim, countless steamy vents cloak purple-pink orchids and vegetation with a swirling, ghostly mystique.

Passing through 17-kilometers of rainforest and barren wilderness, Crater Rim Drive encircles Kilauea’s summit, the legendary home of the Fire Goddess. As they have for centuries, offerings to Pele line the immense caldera’s rim; rocks wrapped in ti leaves, leis and bananas appease her blistering wrath.

Crossing desolate black lava fields punctuated with vaporous wispy puffs, we teeter right on Halema’uma’u Crater’s edge; white-tailed tropicbirds float on thermals deep in the volcano’s heart. Although crusted over nowadays, during the 19th-century this boiling lava lake inspired Mark Twain’s declaration, “It’s like looking into the fiery pits of Hell!”

Devastation Trail later leads us through a fern and ohi’a forest destroyed in 1959 by Kilauea Iki’s eruption. And through luxuriant rainforest alive with birdlife at Thurston Lava Tube, we wind under a lava field in a mammoth cave 500-years-old.

Outside the Park, we detour into Kipuka Pu’alu where “Bird Island” has escaped centuries of eruptions and lava flows. A tranquil 30-minute walk teems with tropical birds thriving in the age-old forest.

Before leaving Ka’u, we toast roads less traveled with award-winning wines at Volcano Winery. Over Macadamia Nut Honey, Volcano Blush and Hawaiian Guava we conclude: there’s much more than first meets the eye in Ka’u, Hawaii.

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes Canadian freelance travel writer Chris Millikan who lives near Vancouver, on Canada;s West Coast.

About the photos:
1: Turtles on the Black Sand beach: Rick Millikan photo
2: The hoist at South Point: Rick Millikan photo
3: Sulphur Banks in Volcanos National Park: Chris Millikan photo

If You Go:
www.bakeshophawaii.com – Punalu’u Bake Shop
www.hawaii-bnb.com/bougvl.html – Bougainvillea B&B
www.bigisland.org – Havaii’s Big Island

Into West Maui’s Past: Ka’anapali and Old Lahaina-Town

by Chris Millikan

West Maui has attracted holidaymakers for centuries. Even Hawaii’s legendary Kamehamehas recognized a good thing when they saw it. Staging extravagant luaus, they surfed and played on Kaanapali’s golden beaches for days. But, abandoning that laidback beach-life for a day, my husband and I joined other history buffs on a Historical Trail and Legends tour, alternately shuttling and walking into an alluring past. Meeting us under a thatched hale fronting Royal Lahaina Resort, two guides helped us visualize Ka’anapali’s bygone days. “Abundant mango orchards once flourished here and in immense gardens, villagers cultivated sweet potatoes and taro for Maui’s kings,” Keli’i grinned, “favoured staples to this day.”

Our shuttlebus then stopped beside the Eldorado’s golf course where rusty-brown pohaku stones rested behind a hedge. Miliani explained, “Uncovered during resort development, these artifacts reflect familiar legends: demigod Maui turned his la-a-a-z-y friend into that large stone, for example, to sleep permanently…a tough lesson for mocking hard work!”

Pointing northward to Kahekili Beach Park, she continued, “Warriors trained there…and Hawaiians launched their koa-wood canoes to visit Lanai.” Also nicknamed Airport Beach, old airstrip fragments remain off in the bushes. “The terminal’s Windsock Bar was well-known by travelers between 1960 and 1987 for great Bloody Marys,” Keli’i winked.

At Black Rock, popular with today’s snorkelers, we pictured ancient temples perching on top. “Still sacred in modern Hawaii, our souls leap into eternity from up there,” pointed Miliani. “And divers jump at sunset, just like Maui’s last great chief, known for cliff-diving.”

During the plantation era, a prosperous racetrack had stretched down the spectacular sandy oceanfront. And on the Black Rock’s other side, a mile-long pier off-loaded sugarcane and cattle to waiting ships.

Lush fairways along Ka’anapali’s Parkway covered an ancient battleground where royal half-brothers waged fierce war against each other to establish the island’s ruler.

“During battle that stream flowed with the blood of thousands of warriors, colouring foreshore waters red at Hanakao’o Point,” said Keli’i. And Miliani chimed in, “One legend says that to avoid sacrifice, Hina hid her son Maui up in the guardian owl’s secret cave at the stream’s source.”

Lahaina shimmered in the distance, our afternoon stop. Conquering Maui and marrying into its royal family, Kamehameha the Great designated this town first capital of a united Hawaii.

Hopping into our rental, we headed for Banyan Tree Park. Locals told us the magnificent tree planted in 1873 now shades almost an acre. Watching carvers finish canoes for the annual Festival of Canoes, I mused, “There’s always something cool going on here…festivals… markets… music…celebrations…”

Ducking through the rear door of the old Courthouse prominent on Wharf Street since1859, we wandered through the Heritage Museum and Art Gallery before picking up free historical guides at the Visitor’s Center there.

Toward the end of the harbour, we located the hauola stone, a sacred place for royal birthing and the floor of Kamehameha III’s brick palace, a royal residence until the 1850’s. He’d also commissioned the lighthouse nearby, initially a wooden tower with whale-oil lamps kept alight by Hawaiians for $20 a year.

The Pacific Fleet’s homeport from 1820 to 1860, hundreds of whaling ships anchored here, gritty grogshops lined streets…and Herman Melville rambled around town scribbling notes for Moby Dick. The Pioneer Inn dating to 1901 still posts strict turn-of-the-century regulations in its rooms.

Back at Banyan Park’s southwest corner, fort remnants from 1831 endure, originally built after raucous sailors lobbed cannonballs into town, disputing with missionaries over Hawaiian women visiting their ships. Demolished twenty years later, hand-cut coral blocks from its 20-foot-high walls built the jail standing at Prison and Waine’e Streets.

After peeking into the tiny spartan cells built for drunks and deserters, we found the first Christian graveyard; Waine’e Cemetery’s royal burial sites have been sacred to Hawaiians since 1823.

Nearby, Seamen’s Cemetery interred Melville’s cousin and several shipmates, among others. Further along, chiefs and commoners, captains and sailors, missionary’s children and elders lay in Waiola Churchyard.

Between Waine’e and Front Streets, Hawaiian Kings and powerful chiefs had lived in regal compounds on a tiny island in a freshwater pond. After removing sacred entombed remains, coral rubble filled in this 14-acre pond to install a ballpark in 1918. Friends of Moku’ula now work to restore former glory.

Nicknamed Venice of the Pacific, canoe channels once connected countless taro terraces in what is now Lahaina’s downtown.

Hawaii’s last monarch, Queen Liliokalani grew up in a grass house near Canal Street; today, the Episcopal Church there features a rare koa altar and beautiful Hawaiian Madonna. In Kamehameha Iki Park next-door, Kamehameha IIIs two-storied oceanfront palace stands unfinished…he’d preferred pili-grass beach-huts cooled by trade winds.

Spreading kukui-nut trees shade Lahaina’s oldest buildings on Front Street. Docents at Baldwin House related tales about its influential residents. “This dynamic mission and medical center was built of coral, stone and wood in 1834; most of these 19th-century furnishings were payment for services.

Doctor Dwight Baldwin had saved thousands of lives on Maui with the early use of smallpox vaccinations and vigilant quarantines.” When asked about their wealth, she added, “Their youngest son built irrigation flumes critical to the sugarcane industry’s success, creating a fortune.”

Down the block, two-storied Wo Hing Temple served Chinese sugarcane workers; now rare artifacts and altars showcase their island history. Surrounded by gigantic rusted woks and kitchen implements in the adjacent community cookhouse, we absorbed the romance of old Hawaii captured by Thomas Edison in his earliest movies.

Our exploration ended on Jodo Mission’s peaceful grounds. A five-tiered pagoda soars into cloudless blue skies and the largest Buddha outside Japan sits serenely against sweeping views of West Maui’s pastoral Mountains…ideal for contemplation of the fascinating history uncovered that day.

About the author:

Traveling Tales this week welcomes Canadian freelanace travel writer Chris Millikan who lives near Vancouver, on Canada;s West Coast.

Photos by Chris Millikan
1: Lahaina Wo Hing Temple.
2: Overview of old Lahaina.
3: Lahaina Jodo Mission.

Molokai’s Aloha Spirit: High Times and Tentalows

by Rick Millikan

Cooing doves, gobbling wild turkeys and whistling exotic birds rouse us from cozy beachside tentalows. Seeking Hawaiian adventures, my partner and I takeoff in a racy red convertible along Molokai Ranch’s rust-red roads and onto the highway to discover aloha at every juncture.

At Pala’au State Park, we hike up a short path through ironwood forest to find the large lusty phallic stone, where Molokai maidens prayed for fertility. A shorter path leads downward to spectacular views of Kalaupapa Peninsula. There, a few patients afflicted still with leprosy live in a trim village surrounded by the cobalt blue Pacific and world’s highest sea-cliffs. These rugged cliffs provided Jurassic Park’s opening scenes.

Soon after mounting mules we zigzag down the 3.8-mile trail into Kalaupapa for a closer look. Winding under forested canopies, descending 1700 feet and rounding 26 switchbacks, mules carry us steadily downward on stony steps and onto sunny ledges. While my mule Elvira chomps lacy fern, I feast on spectacular panoramas. Ultimately we pass a white bark kukui nut tree grove where black feral goats rummage as we continue along a wide black sand beach.

Corralling our mule-train then boarding a bus for an official peninsula tour, we stop initially at the village’s only refreshment bar and St. Francis Church for enlightenment. Father Damien’s memorial deepens our understandings of universal love and true aloha. Duly in line for sainthood, Father Damien’s legendary devotion rallied the world to improve conditions for leprosy victims.

Rumbling eastward through tumultuous foliage, we come to Halawao, the original 1866 “leper colony.” St. Philomena Church still towers beside Father Damien’s lei-strewn gravesite in a cemetery of fellow benevolent souls. Further along, concrete pilings recall the inspection center, extensive government hospital and Baldwin Boys’ Home constructed later.

Back at the corral, these sure-footed animals tote us forward and up the steep trail without one snort of complaint. Admiration becomes adoration. One muleskinner Mrs. wishes to exchange hubby for her steadfast steed. Like an Oakridge Boy, I serenade my spunky mule: “Elvira, Elvira —My heart’s on fire, Elvira —Giddy Up Oom Poppa…”

Next morning we tootle along Molokai’s sparsely settled coastline to its northeast tip. Looping upward on a narrowing highway into tropical splendor, we enter sacred Halawa Valley. Waiting just beyond a church’s stony skeleton, tour leader Lawrence Aki introduces himself and his beloved homeland.

“The first Hawaiians settled here for its abundant water. Over a thousand taro patches supported our people.”

Pointing to photos depicting its recent history, Aki continues. “The 1946 tsunami swept away croplands. Suffering further hardships, by 1956 most people abandoned the valley. Luckily my grandparents stayed, raising my brother and myself with Hawaiian language, customs and lore. After we left, marijuana growers came. Believing in Halawa’s sanctity, my brother and I returned to reestablish order. Taro was replanted to sustain our physical and spiritual life as Hawaiians.”

Bananas, guava trees and papayas line a gradually rising pathway. Aki proudly shows us sixteen taro patches, reestablished after clearing a forty-year growth of brush and trees. Upriver, his taro cooperative built a dam high enough to divert water to life-sustaining taro channels. We ford the knee-deep river below the reservoir and trek a muddy meandering trail into dense forest.

Pausing at each of three ancient temples, Aki chants. He tells us, “Ancestors built twelve of Molokai’s eighteen hieaus in this valley. The devastated church at the trailhead was built upon one hieau.”

Hiking the 4.2-mile trail to see double tiered Moaulu Falls seemed incidental to experiencing Aki’s passion for native culture. After plunging into a refreshing pool shaded by leafy mango and ha’u trees, we picnic listening to Aki tell stories of old Hawaii.

Another venture involves sea-kayaks just outside Molokai’s main town, Kaunakakai. Our licensed guide Claire prepares us for this jaunt. “Sunset kayaking is such a romantic opportunity. Often couples establish a sense of trust and cooperation before sharing the exquisite end to a day.”

Like most fair damsels, my spouse sits forward, setting the pace and hoping I’ll keep us on course. Without capsizing the kayak, I settle aft and negotiate routes with my forward shipmate. There’s hardly a ripple, as waves break far offshore against Hawaii’s longest barrier reef.

We mosey serenely along the shallow southern coast where an estimated 60 ancient fishponds once thrived. Then, this sophisticated aquaculture fed only royalty. Bathed in golden sunlight, we share blissful paddling.

Edging near a reconstructed fishpond, we examine extensive walls made of lava boulders. Two openings allow seawater to ebb and flow. Holding fast to mangrove roots at an entrance, we await the glorious climax to another day in paradise. After Claire reports the first fishpond harvest occurs this year, she grins, confiding, “My husband fishes at this very spot…with great success!”

As the landscape glows, Claire softly philosophizes about Molokai’s laidback lifestyles and caring Hawaiian families. The sun paints a Gauguin sky of swirling pinks, oranges, reds and purples. Returning ashore, Claire presents us drink vouchers to toast “Love!” at a nearby waterside restaurant.

Next morning we head off toward a secluded cove, packing a lunch and snorkel gear. Quail scamper along the coastal pathway. Bridging the ranch fence, we wade through waist-high grass. Axis deer leap from the underbrush. Feeling lost, another cheery hiker encourages us onward.

At peaceful Dixie Maru Beach, we settle onto its white sand reflecting on Molokai’s aloha-filled adventures.

About the author:

Rick Millikan and Chris Millikan, are a Canadian travel writer/photographer team who live in North Delta, a suburb of Vancouver, on Canada’s West Coast

If you go:

Start your holiday through Molokai Visitors Association at www.molokai-hawaii.com or (800) 800-6367.
Investigate the Molokai Ranch “Tentalow” Beach Village and Lodge facilities through www.molokairanch.com
Arrange your own Molokai Mule Ride into Kalaupapa Historic National Park at www.muleride.com
Peruse and book land & ocean activities at Molokai Outdoors www.molokai-outdoors.com
Reserve your Halawa Valley Cultural Hike through www.molokaifishanddive.com
Find out about Molokai Ferry’s daily round trip service to Maui at www.molokaiferry.com.

Photos by Chris Millikan:
1: The author’s wife is visited by a group of wild turkeys.
2: An overview of the Kalaupapa Peninsula from our mule trail.
3: One of the many re-planted taro patches.

New Orleans: Where the Soul Survives

by Kayt C. Peck

Signs of Katrina are everywhere; water lines on the concrete embankments of the freeway during the taxi ride from airport to hotel; stories of whole neighborhoods abandoned and destroyed; or the haunted look in the eyes of the waitress who tells of how she evacuated to survive the storm but came home to a ruined life with no home, no car, no job and ruined credit. Katrina battered the proud city, leaving it beaten, but not defeated.

The older parts of the city remain, for all appearances almost untouched by the storm of storms.

I had grown to love the city when I lived there briefly years ago while attending a Navy school. From the first moment I watched the news of the beating New Orleans received at the hands of Katrina, I felt fear and a grief.

Sadly, it was not only for the people who suffered but also for me. The comfort of the existence of New Orleans — a city unique in history and color – was part of what made my world whole. The thought that it might never truly be again upset my universe.

When we decided to take a vacation, New Orleans was at the top of my list.

Yes, we wanted to do our part to support the economy of a recovering city, but my motivations were not entirely altruistic. I needed to see it. I needed to know that the soul of the city I loved still survived.

My fears began to subside, as the taxi entered the French Quarter. It seemed almost untouched from the days, years ago, when I would ride the ferry across the Mississippi and spend a day or evening walking the streets, eating amazing food, and listening to the magic of native New Orleans jazz.

As we checked into the Maison Dupuy Hotel, we benefited from the economic impact of Katrina on the local economy. Post-Katrina New Orleans needed to fill lodging. We accessed an Internet special that enabled us to book a luxury hotel on a mid-range budget.

Despite the comfort and beauty of our hotel, I could not wait to hit the streets … to walk down Toulouse Street to the river or to detour down Bourbon Street to hear if jazz still echoed throughout the area at any time of the day or night.

It was all there, almost exactly as I remembered with one very noticeable exception … the crowds.

During our stay we never had a problem getting a table at a restaurant or sat in an over-crowed trolley or bumped into inebriated tourists walking down rows of jazz clubs and restaurants.

I will admit to a mild guilt about the fact that the city’s misfortune enhanced my enjoyment of a place I had long viewed as one of the finest cities in the world.

The guilt was mild. My relief and pleasure was intense.

The soul of New Orleans survives.

Café Du Monde still serves coffee and beignets within watching distance of the Mississippi River. Street musicians still play beside the river walk, their instrument cases awaiting applause in the form of bills and coins dropped by appreciative listeners.

As I had done so many times before, I studiously ignored any thoughts of the calorie and fat levels in the sweet pastry, knowing that some of life’s pleasures simply must be enjoyed in the moment. The benefit to my spirit as I enjoyed the tastes, the smells and the sounds outweighed any short-term detriments to my physical self.

Jackson Square remained much as I remembered it. We walked the square and stopped to visit with the hack drivers who provided horse-drawn guided tours of the Quarter until we selected the one who would be our guide.

The mule that drew our wagon was at home in a city where houses and businesses still sport the metal rings that served as hitching posts for the mules and horses that were once the primary source of transportation.

Our tour confirmed that the heart of the city remains, largely due to people, like our driver and guide, who loved the city enough to ride out the storm or to return when the city was re-opened.

Yes, the old and historic buildings remain, but it is these hardy individuals who provide the primary reason that the soul of New Orleans survives.

People like the cab driver who lived out of his cab for five months while he awaited FEMA assistance so he could have a home and return his family. People like the musicians who turned carpenters to help rebuild the city that was home to the music they love.

People like the retired policeman who now struggles to build facilities for the youth who now, more than ever, need mentors and recreational options to keep them off the streets and out of trouble.

In a small way, I hope that we were a part of that contingent of courageous people striving to revive the city.

Newscasts depicted New Orleans as a devastated place, but we chose to spend our vacation dollars there. It was a small contribution, but it was a contribution, one that I would recommend for anyone.

Who would not choose to invest in a fantastic trip and help revive a historic city?

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes freelance travel writer Kayt C. Peck who lives in Las Vegas, New Mexico.

Photos by Kayt C. Peck:
1: The Riverwalk that parallels the Mississippi River.
2: Mardi Gras beads hang from one of the many wrought iron fences in the city.
3: Daytime view of the Old Quarter.

Southwest Sensations: Bryce and Zion Parks

by Allan A. Swenson

America is blessed with many magnificent natural wonders. Two of the most splendid are Bryce and Zion National Parks. Fifty yeas ago I stood in awe when I first visited these incredible marvels of stone. My wife had never been “out west” so a trip to these parks was a special treat.

Bryce Canyon is a small national park in southwestern Utah, named after the Mormon Pioneer Ebenezer Bryce and became a national park in 1924.

It is famous for its extraordinary series of horseshoe-shaped amphitheaters carved from the eastern edge of the Paunsaugunt Plateau. Frost-wedging and the dissolving power of rainwater shaped the colorful limestone rock into bizarre shapes including slot canyons, windows, fins, and spires called “hoodoos.

“These whimsically arranged rocks provide a marvelous landscape of mazes, offering exciting and memorable walks and hikes. The term Hoodoo means to cast a spell and no doubt these astounding formations do cast a spell on all who see them.

Towering Ponderosa pines, high elevation meadows and fir-spruce forests that border the plateau rim abound with wildlife. Scientists say that this area boasts some of the world’s best air quality. It also offers panoramic views of three states with nearly 200 miles of visibility.

Because Bryce transcends 2000 ft. elevation, it has three distinct climatic zones: spruce and fir forest, Ponderosa pine forest, and Pinyon pine and juniper forest However it is the uniqueness of the rocks that caused Bryce Canyon to be designated as a national park.

These famous spires are formed when ice and rainwater wear away the weak limestone that makes up the Claron Formation. Take time to stand and marvel them. Keep your camera handy because as the sun rays change you’ll see many fascinating photo opportunities of colors, shades, tones for some truly artistic pictures worthy of framing.

People have lived in the Colorado Plateau region for bout 12,000 years according to archeologists who have found traces of ancient peoples.

The Paiute Indians occupied the area around what is now Bryce Canyon starting around 1200 A.D. and were known for their seasonal hunting and gathering activities, but there is no evidence of permanent settlements.

Ancient Indian folklore says that once the Legend People, To-when-an-ung-wa, lived there. They were of many kinds including birds, animals, lizards and such, but looked like people. They were not people but had power to make themselves look that way, the folklore continues.

For some reason the Legend People were bad and did things wrong. Because they were bad, Coyote turned them all into rocks. As the story goes, you can see them in that place now all turned into rocks; some standing in rows, some sitting down, some holding onto others. You can see their faces, with paint on them as they were before they became rocks. The name of that place is Angka-ku-wass-a-wits which means red painted faces.

Bryce offers many activities from hiking and biking to horseback riding, viewing wildlife, camping and photographing the vast vistas of natural beauty. Remember to have different film speeds so you can record scenes in early morning and at dusk for special effects.

From this remarkable park just follow the signs toward another amazing and inspiring national preserve, Zion National Park. It too is a captivating area you should not miss.

The best way to experience Zion’s massive canyons walls that soar skyward is to walk among the towering cliffs or through small narrow canyons. These unique sandstone cliffs range in color from cream, to pink and red and have been described as sand castles crowning desert canyons.

Within Zion’s 229 square miles is a fascinating landscape of deep canyons, soaring cliffs,cool pine-covered plateaus to scorching deserts, Avid hikers will find many trails that range from simple short walks to strenuous day long adventures.

A variety of life zones and habitats makes wildflower walks in spring and brilliant leaf color in autumn especially attractive. Photographers will find colorful opportunities to capture the colors and textures in various light.

Birdwatchers add to their lists from 271 species of birds. For bicycle enthusiasts, the Pa’rus Trail offers a paved, car-free alternative to connect with the Zion Canyon Scenic Drive. Shuttle buses are equipped with bike racks.

Park Rangers offer programs about animals, geology, plants, human history and there are Ride with a Ranger shuttle tours, guided hikes, daytime talks and evening programs at Watchman Campground and Zion Lodge. All programs are free.

Zion’s unique geographic location and variety of life zones provide a variety of habitats for a surprising array of plant and animal species.

It borders the Great Basin and Mojave Desert Provinces and is home to plants from each region in some of the most scenic canyon country in the United States. You’ll discover high plateaus, a maze of narrow, deep sandstone canyons and striking rock towers and mesas.

For history buffs, you’ll find evidence of ancient Puebloans, known as the Anasazi, from 2,000 years ago. After the Anasazi moved southeast 800 years ago, Paiute peoples brought a life style fine-tuned to desert seasons and thrived.

After settlement by Mormon pioneers in the 1860s, John Wesley Powell visited Zion on the first scientific exploration of southern Utah. His discoveries of the rivers and canyons are worth exploring yourself some day.

Park visitation in 1920 was 3,692. In 1996 it reached 2.5 million attesting to Zion’s appeal.

Mark your calendar for a Great Western Adventure and plan your inspiring visit to Bryce and Zion National Parks, two of America’s most memorable natural wonders.

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes freelance travel writer is Allan. A. Swenson from Kennebunk, Maine, USA.

Photo choices:

1: A canyon-rim view of Bryce spread out before you. Tanya Milligan photo.
2: Peering down into one of hundreds of colourful canyons. Barry Galzier photo.
3: The steep canyon walls of Zion National Park. Cowboy Ted Hallisey photo.

History Comes To Life at Wild Catter Ranch Resort

by Lauren Kramer

It’s dusk at the Wild Catter Ranch Resort in north central Texas, and I’m on the porch, overlooking the rugged granite outcroppings and serene beauty of the Palo Pinto Hill Country. The shrill sound of crickets fills the air and the dense heat, which has kept the mercury unchanged at 108 degrees Fahrenheit all day, is finally tolerable now the sun has gone down.

Without its intense glare on my shoulders, I can finally appreciate the magnificence of my environs. I sit on a rustic wooden rocking chair outside my cabin, watching the hummingbird that keeps returning to its porch-side feeder, and listen as the breeze catches the laughter of children far away.

This land is hauntingly beautiful. At first I’d wondered how people could survive in this heat, where one must move from one air conditioned space to another to keep from expiring.

But at dusk, the answers become apparent as you see the land bathed in a new light. The gentle flow of the forested hill into the valley below. The warm breeze that tickles your nape. The bright orange breast of a bird that stops to observe you curiously before diving into the undergrowth. And the unobtrusive amble of an armadillo as it searches for food in the brush.

Early morning, before the weather becomes blisteringly hot, is the best time to be out and about, partaking in the many activities at the Wild Catter Ranch Resort.

My family and I start the day with a canoe ride at the creek, dipping oars into the shallow, murky water of the Brazos River and watching the occasional fish somersault into the air before returning to the shallows.

By 10:30, it’s reached 99 degrees Fahrenheit, a temperature that renders paddling a major exertion. Within a half-hour we relinquish our canoes and head directly to the swimming pool, a place guests keep returning to as the day wears on and the sun continues to toast the land to a fine crisp.

I venture out again in the afternoon, buoyed by curiosity and a love of riding horseback along the craggy bluffs that overlook the river.

Dusty, my faithful horse, trots along rocky trails and canters across grassy meadows, passing parched plants and the scattered bones of a lone cow along the way. Carrion-seeking vultures scour the terrain from the thermals.

I gleefully anticipate a reviving dip in the swimming pool followed by a good meal at the Wild Catter Steakhouse. That night, I fall asleep to the sounds of an old Western movie, dreaming of handsome cowboys and the massive expanse of dry land that is proudly Texas.

Indeed, my dry environs are rich in history. Located in Young County, just six miles outside the small Texas town of Graham, Wild Catter is surrounded by a variety of historic sites where Texas legends were made.

This land has witnessed cattle drives, outlaw mysteries, bloody frontier battles with Indians and overnight oil boomtowns. Years later, these legends were parlayed into famous old Hollywood movies like “The Sons of Katie Elder,” “The Searchers” and “Lonesome Dove.” When we borrow these movies from the resort’s library, the stories spring to life.

But the legends are also woven into the very fabric of Wild Catter Ranch Resort, and reflected in the unique décor of each of the rooms.

Our cabin, titled Famous Chiefs, depicts Indian heritage in its décor and imagery. Photographs of somber Indian chiefs stare back at me from the walls, their worried eyes anxious about the future.

Their fates are laid bare in a comprehensive binder in the cabin, carefully described in the language and point-of-view of the Americans who ultimately usurped their place on this land.

We drive into the town of Graham one afternoon, a community of 9,000 that boasts the largest courthouse square in the United States. On a Sunday afternoon, however, the town’s few gift shops and stores are closed and silent, and the only traffic surrounds the few fast-food outlets and Graham’s single pizzeria.

Back at the ranch there is a wide array of uniquely Texan activities to keep us busy. Jason, my five-year-old son, takes a stab at archery with his dad, while I peruse other possibilities, among them skeet shooting, fishing and hunting.

In the end, though, it’s the shade of the porch that wins my attention. There, on a trusty rocking chair, I allow myself to be transported once again by the exquisite stillness of the rugged Palo Pinto Hill Country.

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes freelance travel writer Lauren Kramer who lives in Richmond, a suburb of Vancouver B.C.

Photos by Lauren Kramer:

1: Canoeing along the Brazos River as it snakes through the valley, is one way to catch
the breeze.
2: Riding horseback is a great way to explore the craggy bluffs and parched landscape
surrounding the resort.
3: Ranch guests keep returning to their infinity swimming pool.

If you go:

Wild Catter Ranch Resort is a two-hour drive from Fort Worth. At some times of the year the resort offers round-trip transportation to and from the ranch, – at other times, you need a vehicle.

The resort cabins, which sleep up to four, range in price from USD$149-$229 per night, continental breakfast included. The ranch offers guests horseback riding and hunting at an extra fee, and complimentary canoeing, mountain bike riding, skeet shooting, fishing, archery and internet access. For more information call (888) 462-9277 or visit www.wildcatterranch.com

Seattle in 24 Hours

by Rita Cook

What could be more fun than a trip to Seattle with thoughts of coffee, grunge, computer genius protégés and of course, the Seattle Seahawks. On a recent trip to this popular Pacific Northwest town however, I found there was a whole lot more, and yes you can do it in 24 hours. In fact, Seattle has a real charm and appeal and to me this bohemian city reminded me a bit of San Francisco. San Francisco or not, Seattle is an eclectic city with a vibe all its own. It all started when the city became popular in 1962 after hosting the World’s Fair. In fact, that’s where the Space Needle came from – all 605 feet of it. It was built to show the world “the city of the future” and it has made a permanent mark on the Seattle skyline ever since.

There is also a restaurant at the top of the Space Needle that rotates every hour providing awesome views of Puget Sound and the Cascade and Olympic Mountains. I was hungry so I ate there, but even if you’re not hungry just visit the observation deck at 520-feet with 360-degree views as well.

Seattle also has a good share of museums, theaters, parks and specialty amusements. Neighborhoods and historic districts are also quite popular, beginning with the well-known Underground Tour.

Take the 90-minute Underground Tour and experience a look back in time at Seattle. It is a historic, guided walking tour that takes the visitor beneath the city’s sidewalks of Pioneer Square and other historic districts.

As I traveled through subterranean passages I discovered what was, at one time, the actual roadways and first-floor storefronts of the old city. The great fire in 1889 destroyed Seattle’s downtown that was mostly made of wood and definitely changed the city’s architecture forever. The Underground Tour explains how it all happened with a humorous and irreverent look at the past.

Seattle’s museums range from music, to dolls to the more traditional natural history, fine art and flight themes.

Check out The Burke Museum of Natural History and Culture featuring artifacts from the Pacific Northwest including American totem poles, hand-carved cedar canoes, dinosaur skeletons and fossils.

The Experience Music Project has the entire city in a buzz and was the brainchild of Microsoft co-founder, Paul G. Allen. This museum is dedicated to exploring the creative and innovative American music scene including rock ‘n’ roll, jazz, soul, gospel and even hip-hop. It’s huge at 140,000 square feet and it has over 80,000 artifacts including the largest Jim Hendrix memorabilia collection around.

For those strictly into art, the Henry Art Gallery is a must-see for modern and contemporary works. Lesser known museums in Seattle include the Museum of Glass, Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame and the Seattle Asian Art Museum.

Since Puget sounds plays such a large role in Seattle’s geography it is no wonder that there are many water activities for the visitor. Argosy Cruises is Seattle’s largest water sightseeing tour operator and there are dinner and lunch excursions as well.

Seattle seaplanes will give you an excellent tour of the area from high-up or the “Ride the Ducks” tour will actually take you up close and personal to the water in a vintage DUKW vehicle straight out of World War II.

Many of Seattle’s neighborhoods are still intact from times gone by and to visit is to get an idea of what the city once offered. Pike Place Market is the oldest continuously-operated farmer’s market in the United States. It is also located in a nine-acre historic district in the heart of downtown.

Pioneer Square is another oldie, but goodie. Located on the southern fringe of the downtown business area, there are 20 square blocks of Victorian Romanesque buildings. It is also in this area where most of the museums, art galleries and restaurants come to life.

The Seattle Center is where the 1962 World’s Fair actually took place and now it is a 74-acre park with museums, theatres and other attractions that constantly draw crowds. Make your way to the waterfront since it’s a treat to watch the ferry boats, luxury cruise liners and sightseeing tour boats all move around at once.

The aquarium is located at the waterfront too and a visit to the IMAX Omnidome Theater is a good chance to see “The Eruption of Mt. St. Helens.”

Wine tasting is really becoming a popular Seattle pastime with Bainbridge Islands Vineyards and Winery on the top of the list. It’s a small family run vineyard that is just a 35-minute ride across Puget Sound. There is also the Redhook Brewery or the Pyramid Brewery offering free tours and tastings.

By the way, while in town, make yourself at home at the W hotel (1112 Fourth Avenue), a hip spot in the heart of Seattle’s financial, retail and entertainment district attracting visitors and locals alike.

The 26-floor getaway also features the popular W Bar and The Living Room, a prime gathering spot for guests to meet and socialize and the last place I visited after a full day and a short night before heading to my next stop in the world of global meltdown.

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes freelance travel writer Rita Cook, who makes her home in North Hollywood, California.

Photos courtesy of the Seattle Convention & Visitors Bureau:
1: The Space Needle dominates Seattle’s skyline
2: The Aquarium also offers the IMAX Theatre
3: The Public Market is a popular meeting place for locals and visitors

Desert Retreat Offers R’N’R Without All The Usual Spa Glitter

Story and Photos by John Geary

As we started up the trail, I glanced overhead and spied a pair of vultures circling above. “I wonder what they know that we don’t?” I thought to myself, as I instinctively took a sip from my water bottle. At the same time, I also thought, “Boy, I’m going to enjoy the post-hike pampering after this is over.”

This was my introduction to Ojo Caliente Mineral Springs, the only natural hot springs in the world that offers a combination of four different types of geothermal mineral waters: arsenic, iron, lithium and soda.

The first 10 minutes of our hike into the New Mexican desert were certainly the toughest. The mid-day heat blazed down upon us as we traversed the switchback trail taking us up to the top of a plateau at a 45-degree angle.

As it turned out, that initial ascent was the only really difficult portion of our walk to the site of a former Posi pueblo (or village); the vultures would have to look elsewhere for a meal, that day.

Guided by archaeologist Martha Yates, we spent the afternoon looking for rock art, the remnants of Native agricultural technology and sites of former buildings of the indigenous people who once called this place “home.”

Towards the end of the trip, we enjoyed a panoramic view of the Rio Ojo.

Of course, we also spent a bit of time dodging cacti spines and sweating. But that made the rest of our afternoon and evening all that more enjoyable.

Heading back down the switchback, I paused to enjoy the view and shoot some photos. Anticipating a reward for my exertions, I had a relaxing massage booked to help me unwind. Following supper, I planned to enjoy the spa’s naturally hot mineral pools to further reduce me to a mass of human Silly Putty.

It worked.

After a massage that seemed to finish all too quickly and a delicious supper, it was time to head for the mineral pools, to continue my melting process.

There is nothing quite so invigorating, yet at the same time totally relaxing, as taking the waters in a hot mineral pool at night, watching the desert stars come out to sprinkle the darkening skies with their twinkling brightness.

Situated near the banks of the Rio Ojo, an hour’s drive from both Albuquerque and Santa Fe, New Mexico, the Ojo Caliente resort is not exactly a chi-chi luxury spa; it’s more like an “Everyman’s spa”-but that’s part of its charm.

By and large, the management is quite happy to keep it that way. There aren’t any state-of-the art, high-end accommodations or massage rooms with electric powered “waterfalls” to create “a mood”.

The main building-built in 1916 in a “new mission revival style” adobe-houses the office, restaurant and some accommodations. It is even listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

So, if every latest trend and state-of-the-art innovation isn’t there, what grabbed my interest? Well …

I could choose between seven naturally fed, outdoor hot springs with four different types of hot mineral waters to soak in. For the completely uninhibited, there was even an area for bathing “au natural” (I’m uninhibited, but not that uninhibited …)

My choice of therapy treatments included regular massage, hot stone massage, the spa’s signature Milagro Relaxation Wrap, and mud treatments. (These treatments are all within the same ballpark, price wise, compared with similar treatments in B.C.’s Lower Mainland.)

The spa’s Artesian Restaurant provided some incredible meals.

In addition to hiking, the spa offered other activities, including yoga and several types of workshops, including a micaceous clay workshop, run by Jicarilla Apache descendant Felipe Ortega. He is a recognized authority in the field, and museums and private collectors covet his works.

My choice of accommodations ranged from rooms in the hotel, to cottages and even camping on the property. All lodging, with the exception of the RV and camping park options, allows access to mineral pools plus steam and sauna, a private tub and the spa’s signature wrap each day. (Tip: Make reservations for any treatments or private tubs prior to arriving.)

I slept in one of the rooms in the old hotel, but only after delaying my exit from the mineral pools as long as possible. Climbing out and heading back to my room for the night was the only down side to my day in the desert.

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes freelance travel writer John Geary who makes his home in Vancouver, on Canada’s West Coast.

About the photos:
1: Kicking back on the porch at Ojo Caliente after a hearty breakfast in the Artesian restaurant.

2: Gateway to relaxation: the entrance to the spa treatment rooms, nestled next to high
desert rock.

3: Relaxing in one of the hot mineral pools under desert skies.

If you go:
Phone number for reservations, lodging and spa treatments: 1-800-222-9162 or 505-583-2233. Website: www.ojocalientespa.com

Cow Camp in Central Florida

by Katherine McIntyre

When a cold front from the north turned our sunny beach into a windswept wasteland, my husband and I searched for things to do and places to see. With hiking in mind, we headed to Lake Kissimmee State Park in Central Florida. With fifteen miles of trails, in 6000 acres, it is an oasis for naturalists and a sanctuary for about fifty species of endangered animals. It is a glimpse of Florida the way it was before it was taken over by tourists.

Following Ranger Dan, a park guide, we found ourselves back in the year 1876, at a re-enactment of a frontier cow camp. It contained a primitive holding pen for the cows and a thatched roof hut for the hunter.

There, we met Mr. Chester, a rugged cowboy, crouched beside an open fire, pouring himself a cup of coffee. In the southern twang of old Florida, he said, “I throws in a few grounds of coffee and adds some water when I needs it, and change the pot about once a month.” As for the mosquitoes, I slaps them and cusses them.”

Jack his “catch dog”, a black and white mixture, is trained to hunt the “scrub cows”. These strange looking small, lean animals, with their long curling horns, are direct descendants of the Andalusian cows brought into Florida by Spanish settlers in the 16th century.

Abandoned when their owners left the territory, they multiplied and ran wild for three hundred years, in the vast prairies and deep forests that covered Florida. Mr. Chester, pointing to the cows says, “I sell them in the market in Ponderosa. I gets an ounce of Spanish gold for one cow. I like ‘em fat. I don’t want their bellies touching their backbone.”

The cow camp was then, this is now. We continued our trek with Ranger Dan, over rough paths, thick with pine needles.

With a broad sweep of his arm, he pointed out a peculiar natural phenomenon, open spaces shaded by heavy clumps of Spanish moss hanging in surreal patterns from the branches of ancient spreading oak trees “We call these places hammocks.” he told us,” its and old Indian word, means shade and comfort. The oaks have outlived the pine, but if there is a fire, the oaks burn and pines don’t. Fire in the forest is nature’s way of cleaning it up.”

The park and its trails are an escape into a varied landscape of sun dappled flatlands, wide open prairie, thick forests and sparkling water; a place to paddle a canoe, hike, camp or just relax. If you are lucky you may catch a glimpse of the shy white-tailed deer, a possum, an armadillo, an otter sliding into a river, or even the elusive bobcat. You are sure to hear the songs of birds and the chatter of the fox squirrel.

Captain Mack Road, right beside Lake Kissimmee State Park, led us to our next stop, a rustic marina on the banks of the Kissimmee River, in Tiger Creek Wilderness Preserve. The river is part of Central Florida’s vast water system of the 600 lakes, which form the headwaters of the Everglades. Powerboats, canoes and tour boats were moored at its old wood docks, which are nothing more that a few planks set on stilts.

There was a “Who has caught the biggest black bass tournament” taking place as we arrived. Fishermen were bringing in their days’ catch, huge black-mouthed bass, to be measured, weighed and then tossed back into the water, following the “catch and release rules of the tournament. But fishing was not on our minds today; we wanted to see what the local people call, “the way Florida used to be”.

Our choice was a trip on a tour boat through the shallow water system. In a group of twelve, we journeyed down Tiger Creek into a vast area of unspoiled wilderness. The boat was quiet; the water still as we glided by reedy, green banks touched by the colours of yellow water lilies, and pink alligator weed. This was the slow leisurely Florida of 100 years ago when there were only a few cattle ranches in the area and not much more.

Dave, out tour leader knows his birds. “Although, he admitted, “I couldn’t tell one from another until I started taking birders into the wetlands.” Suddenly he called “Take a look, there’s a snail kite, with a snail in its beak.”

This was a first sighting for one of our group and he happily added this rare bird to his life list. We spied stately cormorants, green backed herons, a crested cara cara, black ducks, osprey and a shy limpkin. “People come from all over the world to site just one of our birds. That’s a birder for you.”

The nearly extinct whooping crane winters in Tiger creek and summers in the Canadian Arctic. We did see one bald eagle perched on a dead tree, and another soaring to its nest a massive structure of branches and twigs that weighs over a ton.

This was our kind of trip, our kind of Florida, an outdoor adventure, in untouched open spaces. It was a complete change of pace and best of all there were more parks to explore and sights to see on another cold and windy day.

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes Katherine McIntyre, a freelance travel writer who lives in Toronto, Canada.

Photos by Katherine McIntyre:
1: A Florida cowboy rounds up his herd.
2: Spanish moss hangs from the branches of ancient oak trees.
3: A nearly extinct whooping crane browses the local marshes.

If You Go:
Central Florida is 25 miles east of Tampa and 35 west of Orlando.

Lake Kissimmee State Park is near Lake Wales at the junction of US Hwy 27 and State Road 60, a left turn at Boy Scout Road, drive for 3 miles, a right turn at Camp Mack Road, then 5 miles to the entrance.

1428 Camp Mack Road, Lake Wales Florida 33853
There are 60 campsites, 30 have water and electrical connections
Reservations; Call 1 800 326 3681 or 1 863 696 1112
Cow camp is open Saturday, Sunday and Holidays
Fishing Licenses required.