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Tag: flexibility

Magic in a 1928 Ford Tri-Motor Airplane
“Hey babe, what would you think of taking a flight in a 1928 airplane?” he says, only about a half a cup of coffee into our morning.
“Um, sure” I say groggily. Then my brain woke up. “Wait, say what now?!? That sounds like a death wish.” I reply. Picture the horrified look on my face for full effect. Of course, at that point I’ve only entertained the question in the most theoretical of senses. Then it occurred to me that it might not be.
Nope. It was not a theoretical question. “No, it’s a Ford Tri-Motor. I’ve always wanted to fly in one and they’re offering flights in Reno today.”
Embracing spontaneity
And thus began my day a few months ago as I found myself unexpectedly packing up some minimal camera gear and driving to Reno to fly in a 90-year-old airplane.
That was not the original plan for the day, as you’ve probably gathered. And you know I’ll keep it real. I was kind of scared. It sounded terrifying.
On top of the what-the-hell-am-I-getting-myself-into factor, I wasn’t completely sold this was the best way to spend my time that day. I’m simply not an airplane aficionado and I was quite buried in other pressing life and work tasks that needed my attention.
But I’m no stranger to embracing spontaneous opportunities. Keeping your bucket full is all about recognizing the things in life you probably shouldn’t pass up. I didn’t approach it for the curiosity at first, though. Being someone who is in ever-present work mode, I thought “Ok cool, my dear man is so stoked about this and it would be a really unique photo op. ”
Flying back in time
Little did I understand how cool it would be. Once I had some time to understand a bit more about the Ford Tri-Motor, I became intrigued. The historical importance completely roped me in. I had no idea!
The airplane is unique and gorgeous with its square shape and corrugated body panels. Its exterior controls are both amazing and entirely frightening. The old-school interior is a step back in time. The wooden paneling, the gloriously retro light sconces, the decorative curtains, the huge windows that allowed you to take in the whole view—I adored the details and textures.
The flight itself was amazing. I’ve seen Reno from the air countless times as I’ve flown in and out on commercial flights. But this—a low-altitude loop looking through the blades of the wing-mounted motors, was entrancing. It was a totally visceral experience unlike commercial flights. It’s much like the difference between the joy of riding and the monotony of driving in the bubble of a car.
Holding on to the magic
Serendipity struck just a few days after my Tri-Motor experience when I read a great bit by my Tremont photography pal Steve Zigler about holding on to the magic of travel after you return. I realized that this is one of the ways you do it. You bring the spirit of travel home with you and apply it to your daily life. You give yourself the chance to see your hometown in a new way.
I had no intention of extolling the virtues of the 1928 Ford Tri-Motor airplane on the blog. Yet some experiences just stick with you. So here, almost three months later, I’m still in love with taking the leap that day.
I thought this odd little day in my life was worth sharing. The larger message of keeping the travel magic alive in your daily life is important, of course. But also to be deliberate with how we spend our time. Even with a spontaneous decision, it was deliberate. Although it took a much greater infusion of coffee to figure that out!
One of the decision points that morning was also acknowledging the value of a unique shared experience with someone very important to me. Even though it’s not something I would have sought out for myself and he would have had a good time on his own, sharing it together elevated it for both of us. The same as our travels together do. It allowed us a double-dip on keeping the magic alive at home at a time when we were working almost non-stop.
Flying over Reno in the 1928 Ford Tri-Motor.
And finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t encourage you have a take in this particular experience. It was so unique and thrilling. The plane is on tour in the U.S. if you’d like to catch a ride. It’s well worth it!
Adventure on, friends!
[UPDATE: I originally called this a 1929 but it turns out this is a 1928 so the post has been updated to correct my mistake. Please excuse my aviation ignorance!]

July 26, 2019
April Escape: Anatomy of a Trip
You have three straight weeks of challenging travel looming on the calendar. It’s taunting you. It knows you’re bracing for impact; that you just hope you make it through without too many issues. But that trip is still a couple of weeks away. What do you do? How do you get yourself ready for traveling in a way that isn’t your strong suit?
You take a little trip on your terms first, of course! For me, the rhythm of the coddiwomple is what lights my travel fire. There’s such freedom in travel when you’re not tied to exact timelines, reservations, and expectations. That flexibility is intoxicating.
Back in April, I had about a two-week window between spring break with the kiddos in Lake Tahoe and heading to the southeast for my intense FrankenTravel adventure. Knowing I had unusual and difficult travel ahead, I wanted to take advantage of that window to adventure on my terms—to be entirely me. I also wanted to get in some good riding, knowing I would be off the bike for several weeks.
At the get-go, hitting the road wasn’t meant to be anything other than an exploration ride to take advantage of that window and travel my way. But it ended up being so much more. A simple coddiwomple became important in unexpected ways.
As I prepared, I did some traveler soul searching. The conclusions? Many aspects of my travel life have shifted over time—the how, where, and why. Other aspects have become routine. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, I worked myself into a travel rut. Not that my travels have been unpleasant or bad, just autopilot-like—unimaginative.
Clearly, I needed to shake up my mini-adventures. So in the course of this little eight-day jaunt, I did some new things, refreshed some dusty skills, and identified problem areas I need to refine. In this April Escape series, I’ll share those thoughts and tales. For now, though, the bones of this trip are where it all began.
A little of what my planning process looks like.
Logistics
Issue #1 – When
I had a two-week window but I couldn’t dedicate that entire time to travel. I had to pick about nine to 10 days. That became difficult with my dear man having a previous commitment right smack in the middle of the available time. While it added some complication, it was clear we were going to have to split up this adventure. Either we would start off together and have him return home before me, or I would have to start off without him and he would catch up. After much discussion of all of the pros, cons, and considerations, we opted for him to meet up with me. No set time or place, just a vague notion that we’d figure it out based upon weather and where I was by that time.
Issue #2 – Where
Originally I wanted to poke around southern Nevada and explore the cluster of state parks there. The weather laughed at me. Forecasts of sustained 30-mph winds in the area filled my entire travel window. As I shifted my gaze around the state in search of a different general direction, but hoping to stay in Nevada, there was simply no place the winds or temperatures would be agreeable for a motorcyclist.
That pushed me to look at the Sierra Nevada mountain range. Winds and temperatures there would at least be manageable though not ideal. So I pointed myself southward in the Eastern Sierra with no intent to get very far, just explore more deeply and remember how to travel solo. This trip was about how to take eight days to not go very far.
Issue #3 – How
I also desperately wanted to camp. I had not camped at all, much less off of the bike, in an embarrassingly long time. So adding to the plans and preparation was finding all of my gear and dusting off those dormant skills. I waffled tremendously on how to go about it—tent or hammock, which sleeping bag, what food to take, and those sorts of details. My ability to pack up and go on a camping trip on a whim had atrophied. I fussed and overthought every detail for lack of exercising that perishable skill. But more on how that worked out in a later post.
Issue #4 – Delay
At long last after all of the hemming and hawing, I had the bike packed. Now, while just watching weather forecasts to pick the optimum departure time, we heard from our dear buddy, Neil. He would be coming our way and was hoping to get together. Certainly my dear man would be home to greet Neil since he wasn’t leaving with me. I didn’t want to miss seeing Neil though. Decision time for me.
Quite honestly, the weather wasn’t cooperating all that well. I was feeling a little bit intimidated by it when considering all of the other details I was trying to manage. I also knew the further I was into the trip the harder it would be for my dear man to catch up with me, given the weather conditions. So holding back a day didn’t seem like a sacrifice. Granted, it ended up being a day and a half delay since we had a good bit of fun hanging out with Neil which left me not moving too quickly the next morning.
An unexpected but very welcome house guest delayed departure. Totally worth it.
Execution
Eventually I did get on the road. With the men-folk waving me off, I set out for my first solo motorcycle adventure in easily two years, probably closer to three.
Overall the trip was only 1,132 miles. If you’re doing the math, that’s only about a 140 mile-a-day average. But big mileage wasn’t the point. It was about diving a little deeper into places I normally fly through. It was also about reclaiming some solo travel, figuring out how to blend that with couples travel and meet up mid-trip, and refresh my languishing skills. And it worked. But I’ll get back to that later in the series.
I hope by sharing the thought and planning process, I can show you that it can take a lot to put a trip together, even for a seasoned independent traveler. Especially when you’ve allowed some areas of your expertise to wither. Toss in aspects that are out of your control, like weather, and there are a multitude of things to consider before setting out.
But I love traveling. And traveling on my motorcycle is my favorite thing in the world. Even in the context of some complications, it’s always worth it.
And as always, once I was on the road, everything fell away. All of the challenges, decisions, and details came together into accomplishment. Freedom, empowerment, and joy all swelled into a giant grin on my face as Nina Simone sang “Feelin’ Good” in my headset and I hit the throttle into the unknown.
Much more to come in this series. Stay tuned and adventure on, friends!
By my first rest break of the trip overlooking Mono Lake, I’d found my solo groove again.

The April Escape Series
June 19, 2018
Bad Weather and Good Friends at Tremont
Let’s face it, life dishes out the unexpected and undesired. A lot. The only thing we’re in control of is how we respond, right?
I have just returned from a whirlwind trip to Georgia. Part of the time was dedicated to hanging out with Fred and George. The rest was mostly allocated to attending the spring photography workshop at my beloved Great Smoky Mountains Institute at Tremont.
One of the best groups we’ve had at the workshop to date! Fabulous folks who know how to go with the flow. (Photo courtesy of the supremely talented Steve Zigler.)
Challenges
Returning to Atlanta at the moment means dealing with the insanity that is I-85 being closed in the heart of the city. Along with other catastrophic transportation issues that seemed to have come in a relentless onslaught on the heels of that event, Atlanta is not a great place to be right now—if you actually want to get anywhere.
On top of that, my arrival at Tremont coincided with massive storms—one of the reasons I opted to drive instead of ride. While a nice soft rain makes for excellent photography, flooding and torrential downpours don’t exactly make for ideal shooting conditions.
My main goal heading to the workshop this time was to stretch my boundaries by bonding with my telephoto lens, a piece of equipment I’ve always struggled to use effectively. I made some attempts while I was there but the weather simply made it the wrong tool for the job. That’s a challenge that will have to wait for another time.
I’ve been to this workshop a dozen times and this session presented a unique and unprecedented challenge with the flooding rains. We managed one decent day of shooting but only after rearranging the entire workshop schedule to accommodate the incoming storms. To have a day that we didn’t go out to shoot at all is unheard of at this workshop but it happened this time. The storms meant no early morning trip to Cades Cove which is one of the major perks of this workshop. Our Foothills Parkway morning was completely socked in. And the uncertainty of the storms meant no trip to Elkmont as a group. I pulled off a quick time lapse from Foothills Parkway on the first morning of the workshop, though.

Rewards
In spite of this year’s challenges, I still call the workshop a resounding success. We immersed ourselves in shooting along Tremont Road and the Lynn Camp Prong. For me, the conditions meant embracing my wheelhouse—macro photography. That normally means a metric ton of flower shots but this time I made a little snail friend which is about as close as I get to wildlife photography. Even keeping up with Speed Racer as I affectionately call him (her?) was quite challenging.
And we were still able to shoot the birds of prey brought in by Smoky Mountain Raptor Center. They are extraordinary to work with and are doing excellent work with these birds.
In the end, the Tremont workshop is my reunion with my photog family. While that has historically been a small core group of instructors and repeat participants, the Tremont photography family is growing as participants connect and find peace here. Of the 36 participants this time, 21 were repeat attendees. It was such a comfort to see familiar faces and share our love of Tremont. More heartening still was seeing the newcomers embrace it and want to return as well, even with the challenges thrown at them for their first experience at the workshop.
It’s a testament to the workshop and its leaders that these challenges can be absorbed and still run a successful workshop. It’s also a testament to the caliber of the participants. Everyone rolled with it. They understood weather can’t be helped and appreciated the efforts of the instructors to still deliver a valuable experience.
“Speed Racer” refused to stay in the frame. Little trickster!
The big picture
Of course, there’s a lesson, or reminder if you will, in this experience. Flexibility! Remaining flexible in travel, and life in general, means you can adjust for the unexpected without angst. That ability to dance with the circumstances means you’re likely to have better experiences because you aren’t focused on what didn’t come to pass. It means you look at the changes as new or different opportunities, not losses to be lamented.
With that in mind, here are few shots I’m pleased with from a very soggy weekend.
Snails get a bad rap for being “slimy” but the super-chill elegance with which they move is worthy of appreciation.
The textures and lines on this little guy are entrancing.
So the funny thing about the snail is that I only discovered him when I almost stepped on him in my quest to shoot this Solomon’s Seal. It was a close call.
When in doubt, or when the weather is challenging, I dive back into my safe place… macro world!
This aster was way more ready for its closeup than Speed Racer was.
Cheers, friends! Adventure on and stay flexible.
Many, many kudos and thanks to the instructors who made a great workshop possible through continual challenges: Bill Lea, Tom Vadnais, Steve Zigler, Sue Milinkovich, Todd Moore, and Jeff Miller. Y’all rock!

April 28, 2017
Western Adventure Road Trip Wrap-Up
I recently wrapped up another western adventure. This road trip chimed in at 31 days, 5,890 miles, and spanned 11 states, making it one of my smaller undertakings. I spent 18 of those days exploring solo before Fred and George joined me. In that time, I ventured to Overland Expo and explored the joys of eastern Nevada. After I picked the boys up in Las Vegas, we headed east to northern New Mexico and southern Colorado.
Blubaru delivered another successful trip. She’s a champ.
In the course of my 31 days on the road I was able to visit places like:
- Overland Expo
- Great Basin National Park
- Ward Charcoal Ovens State Historical Park
- Cathedral Gorge State Park
- Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge
- Meteor Crater
- Petroglyph National Monument
- Bandalier National Monument
- Great Sand Dunes National Park
If you’ve been following along here for awhile, you know I like to look back at my trips and assess what went well and what wasn’t so fabulous so I can make adjustments for the next adventure.
In this case, the trip was off from the get-go. It was supposed to be a three-week solo motorcycle adventure for me. But being hit by a car has a tendency to force you to change your plans. After some recovery time, this trip got shifted to another car-based adventure.
Each trip has its own subtext of what I hope to gain from the journey. This one was mainly about regaining myself and rebuilding my confidence. Even though the tone of this adventure was philosophical, there was still plenty to learn in terms of how to manage that type of travel.
Thumbs up…
There was much that worked out well, some of it by design, and some of it by dumb luck.
I took on an inclement weather solo hike in Great Basin National Park. I didn’t make it as far as I wanted and I struggled much of the way, but I count it as a success for the obstacles I overcame to do it.
- For once, I paced the trip pretty well. Other than some driving pushes at the very beginning and end, I actually managed to not try to cover too much ground. That changed the entire tone of the trip. It allowed us to enjoy some of the hotel amenities like pools and hot tubs instead of rolling in at midnight and sleeping for a few hours before rolling out again.
- I didn’t sweat having reservations for campsites as I have in the past. With one exception, that worked out just fine. And that reduced to pressure of needing to be certain places at certain times which crushes flexibility.
- I packed smarter. I made some minor changes to how I store food and gear and was much more stingy with how much clothing came along. Result? Less frustration with feeling like the car was going to explode in a gory mess of camping gear.
- It was unplanned, but George happened to bring along his Boggle game. So we ended having a two-week long Boggle tournament. He won, of course… because he’s a total word nerd. But it gave us a fun anchor and helped Fred engage.
- I managed to get by with only two rounds of laundry by embracing a multi-day camping strategy on our duds even when we weren’t camping.
I’m smiling because Fred was being funny. But working my way through Bandelier was really tough. And it shouldn’t have been. Keeping frustration at bay became my biggest focus some days on this trip.
Thumbs down…
I’m a fairly seasoned road tripper but I’m still always amazed at how each trip has its own personality and vastly different challenges… and some that persist regardless of the adventure.
Fred and George getting their hoodlum on at Cadillac Ranch in Texas where I redeemed myself from our last visit here.
- Fred isn’t a fan of these trips and is at an age when his brother’s mere existence is insulting much of the time. Being confined to a small car doesn’t exactly improve that mood. So there’s that. The upside (if there is one to navigating the teenage years) is that we managed that dynamic much better than on last year’s Pacific Northwest Tour.
- On the Overland Expo to TBEX adventure, Blubaru took a rock to the windshield which needed to be replaced. The Pacific Northwest Tour found me replacing the sunroof glass for the same reason. Aaaaand, here we go again. This trip resulted in another cracked windshield. The bright side so far is that it has remained quite small so it didn’t have to be addressed while on the trip.
- Peak season travel means crowds. No way around it. Fortunately, most of the places we went were not super-popular but it did impact our time in Great Sand Dunes heavily. For me, that’s really hard given my love for the park. I altered our plans and took a chance on heading there on a Friday. That plan failed and left me deflated.
- Both boys had some tummy trouble that resulted in some unpleasant clean-ups and altered plans to accommodate lethargic sickies.
- That, along with my diminished state, resulted in more time (and expense) spent in hotels which skewed the camping-to-lodging ratio unfavorably.
Plus, there’s the belligerent 800-pound gorilla that came along… that I’m still recovering from a major trauma. Nothing I could really do about that. My physical limitations impacted every aspect of this trip.
I may have embraced my inner hoodlum as well. 😉
- I ran into issues with how long I could sit in the car without having to stop and stretch.
- I battled not being able to stay warm at Overland Expo and Great Basin.
- I found myself completely exhausted from the effort of setting up camp, even with the boys’ help (which, let’s face it, is often less-than-enthusiastic).
- I even struggled to pop a squat in the woods when nature called.
- My hikes and outings had to be kept short. I simply can’t do what I used to be able to. My leg tires quickly. Throbs. Aches. Stiffens.
- Loading the roof box of the car was a dicey affair since my method involves some semi-gymnastic maneuvers on the car door and my leg is not to be trusted in those duties yet.
- I struggled up and down inclines and stairs, concentrating on each step so I wouldn’t fall and damage the camera gear I carry or reinjure myself. Kind of hard to enjoy yourself when your focus is on your feet and the availability of hand rails.
- I found myself not taking the shots I would have because the position I would need to get into was too painful or I was just too worn out from hobbling along on Frankeleg. Compelling photography isn’t about standing there with the camera to your face and clicking and I struggled to move beyond that. My work shows it. I’m very disappointed with my images the trip.
- I struggled to keep up with my physical therapy. Even though I was creative, it was daunting finding appropriate spots to do my exercises, as well as the energy, given the rigors of travel.
All of this created an emotional battle for me. What can I say? It sucks to have to struggle with things that used to be simple. I would have success followed by struggles and failures then success again. Up and down. High and low. More so than life’s typical roller coaster. More extreme.
There was a good bit of time feeling dismayed that what I used to be was taken from me and that my journey through recovery is far from over. But gratitude for some beautiful moments and places. And there were some I knew were helping me heal, filling in the cracks of my broken spirit.
We kept our geocaching light and easy under the circumstances by mostly sticking with park and grabs. And we still managed to find some fun places.
Big picture…
Overall the trip was good. I love being on the road. But it was also hard. Certainly harder than it should have been for reasons outside of my control. It was also necessary. In the end, I at least proved to myself I could still do it. And with time, the happy moments will outshine the struggles.
So yes, it was worth and I would still encourage anyone to take a chance on travel.
And now for your moment of green…
There is so much emotion in this image. The dunes might as well have been Everest to me, they felt that big and unachievable. But the boys wanted to climb. And telling them “I can’t” left a festering hole in my heart. And so we set out, thinking we probably wouldn’t get very far in. It took a snail’s pace and mining the depths of determination but we made it.
June 22, 2015