Posts Tagged ‘travel’

I visited college friends in New York at the end of last month — my first real vacation (not tied to work or family obligations) in a year.

I had a few must-do’s but I left the weekend up to my friends, with the goal of relaxation. We walked, ate well, shopped and saw some sights — in record summer heat. I’ve lived in big cities before, but Wyoming has turned me into somewhat of a country girl. Dinner at 9 p.m.? You don’t smile and say “hi” to people you pass? Buying jewelry on the street?

I didn’t take many pictures. I was too busy living it.

A 12-mile run was on the calendar for Saturday, so I decided to do it Friday morning while everyone else had to work. I didn’t plan for 101 degree heat. I decided to go for it, carrying 2 water bottles and cash for Gatorade on my person.

I mapped a route from Brooklyn to Manhattan and back, “laminated” it with tape and pinned it to my shirt. I didn’t care I looked like a total dork; I didn’t want to get lost. But then I did, right away, by taking the wrong bridge into Manhattan. I planned to take the Brooklyn Bridge over (to avoid tourist crowds) and the Manhattan Bridge back. When I realized I was on the Manhattan Bridge, I decided to go with it and reverse the route. It was a little tricky, but I did it.

Nosh at Eatly. (July 22)

You just ran 12 miles on the hottest day of the summer, what’s next?

Eatly!

Foodie heaven on earth: Giant Italian food store with restaurants themed around a food group such as seafood or salami. All the seating was full, so my friend Monica and I saddled up to a wooden cutting board full of meat and cheese, with a side of sardines, caprese salad and soft, rustic Italian bread.

Waiting in line at the Met. (July 23)

We woke up earrrrrrly to make it to the museum member hours for Savage Beauty, the Alexander McQueen exhibit. This line was nothing; when we left 1.5 hours later, the line was easily a couple hours long. Quotes from McQueen scattered throughout and the eerie music made the exhibit more than just clothes.

Late night cab back to Brooklyn. No AC.

Frozen bananas at the Brooklyn flea. (July 24)

Sunday Funday started at the Brooklyn Flea. Holy hipsters, Batman! We cruised through vendors selling costume jewelry, records, old artwork and other crap knicknacks. Pupusas, biscuits and fruits were consumed. And the cloud cover and light breeze offered some relief from the sweaty weekend.

I bought a Polaroid camera, and then continued to take Polaroid style photos on my smartphone. (July 24)

Josh bought an old SX-70 Polaroid camera at a garage sale the week before. Polaroid stopped making film years ago, but a handful of Polaroid employees saved the last film production plant in The Netherlands and started The Impossible Project. And one of the few places they sell film happens to be in New York. I picked up some film for him and a new-to-me Polaroid 600.

Subway. (July 24)

Street shopping. (July 24)

Bathesda Fountain, Central Park. (July 25)

The weather cooled down Monday, so I took the subway to Central Park for an easy four mile run. Like Friday’s 12 miler, it went by quickly due to the constantly changing scenery. I ate breakfast in the park, cleaned up and walked around the Garment District and Midtown. I met a more college friends, whom I hadn’t seen in years, for dinner at Westville in Chelsea. Good food, great conversation.

And very, very early the next morning (too early), I left. Sixteen hours later, I crawled into bed for an early evening nap.

I’m still recovering from my mom’s visit the weekend before last.

There’s a lot to see in this huge state and a couple hours in the car can take you somewhere completely different from where you were. Mom was here 4.5 days and we put 750+ miles on my car: Casper -> Guernsey -> Cheyenne -> Fort Collins -> Cheyenne -> Casper -> Buffalo -> Sheridan -> Casper.

In front of the Indian Village, with our new hats. [Cheyenne Frontier Days]

I drove down to Guernsey for an assignment on Friday and Mom met me there. We drove to Cheyenne to walk around Frontier Days. KISS played that night and the people watching was excellent. On the way out, we bought cowgirl hats and rodeo tickets. We then drove to Fort Collins because we didn’t think we’d find a hotel room in Cheyenne (and because I needed a shopping/Whole Foods fix).

We watched Frontier Days’ opening rodeo — Mom’s first. She enjoyed it except for steer roping, where the cowboy ropes the steer by the horns and yanks it to the ground. I could explain events to her because of all my rodeo experience.

We spent Saturday night in Casper and left Sunday morning for mountains. The Big Horn Mountains are a small spur off the Rocky Mountain chain and begin about two hours north of Casper. I drove so Mom could stare at mountains because that’s what she does when she’s behind the wheel too.

Big Horn National Forest

We hiked about 2.5 miles in the Big Horn National Forest just south of Cloud Peak. We stayed the night in Buffalo at The Occidental Hotel, built in 1880. The hotel doubles as a museum. Famous people such as Teddy Roosevelt and Buffalo Bill stayed there. We stayed in the Madam’s Suite in the back on the first floor, former home of the bordello’s madam and the cheap whores. She would have been on the second floor but weighed too much to walk up and down stairs.

Occidental Hotel lobby

We saw a movie and stopped at the renowned Century Club saloon. We only had one drink and went to bed early. Mom brought a cold/sinus infection with her and I was starting to feel a head cold coming on.

The plan was to wake up early and drive back to Casper. I woke up at 8:30 still not feeling 100%. After coffee and animal crackers from the hotel pantry, we headed further north for breakfast in Sheridan.

It was hot, like 92 degrees hot, so we went home and lounged in my cool basement apartment. And then she left.

Mom was my eighth visitor to Casper in less than one year. Eight! I thought moving to Wyoming would mean no one would ever visit but so far, more people have visited me here than any other place I’ve lived. Well, except that one time all my friends drove to New Orleans for Mardi Gras.

Now that I’ve gotten over the loss of my blog pages and comments (and finished off the rest of the ice cream) I’m ready to update.

Two weeks ago (two weeks already!) my friend Cat and her fiance Kyle were married on a farm outside Kansas City. The weekend felt like a destination wedding for me. I arrived late Wednesday night. Cat took me and our friend Sarah, recently stateside after a year in Senegal, to a large suburban mall. Cat left Sarah and me to wander the mall while she waited to get antibiotics.

Talk about culture shock, for both of us. It was the largest mall I had been to in a year. Sarah hadn’t been in a mall period. Clothes, fast food, SO MANY PEOPLE = sensory overload. We got lost in Dillards — turns out they had a second store just for women’s clothes and shoes across the mall. The food court had 20 different options for lunch and I went for Japanese (don’t have that here!) and Sarah appropriately chose orange chicken.

After the mall, we left the city for the farm to start setting up. Chairs had to be taken from the barn to where the ceremony would take place behind the larger of two houses on the property. The wedding party and family stayed in the houses.

The wedding was the perfect reason for a mini-reunion with great grad school friends who traveled from as far as Africa, San Francisco, D.C. and Wyoming.

(All my pictures are on a disposable camera that probably won’t be developed for a few years, so this was borrowed.)

Cat and Kyle did most of the decorations themselves, so every part felt like it belonged to them. Name cards were personalized bottles of Jones soda. The dance floor was lit with white Christmas lights. Champagne was swapped for lemon-ginger infused Polish vodka.

Because it was 100+ degrees with the humidity, it really felt like we were back in Missouri again. I had a hard time with the heat and humidity. I ran with the groom one morning at 7 a.m. and we were drenched in sweat just walking to the road. While setting up, I had to step inside every half hour or so. I drank water like crazy and still plumped up enough that my bridesmaid dress (that fit perfectly when I packed it) almost didn’t zip up.

It’s hard to believe I lived Midwestern summers all my life and in Louisiana last year. Winter here might be hell at times (or for a long time), but it’s worth it for the dry mountain air and cool summer nights and mornings.

Maybe it was the Mormon pioneers I met last week or that everything in Casper was closed all weekend, but I decided to get in the car and head west this morning.

I drove west on Wyoming 220 through Alcova and stopped at Independence Rock.

Oregon Trail II, a major upgrade from the original.
If you have time to kill, you can play it online — “music” and all.

This is semi-accurate. Wagons have been replaced by minivans and trucks at the rest stop constructed in front of the rock. Oh, and the Devil’s Gate/Independence Rock/Sweetwater River arrangement is a little confusing.

Thousands of pioneers stopped at Independence Rock on the trail west and carved their names into the rock. The “Independence” part came from the goal of reaching the marker by July 4. Most of the names have disappeared but several can be clearly seen, especially on the south side.

The whole thing is about 1,900 feet long, 700 feet wide and 130 feet high. The nice path around it is just over a mile long. After a quick walk around, I headed further down the road to Devil’s Gate.

The Sweetwater River cut through the gorge to form a gap 30 feet wide at the bottom but 300 feet wide at the top. Pioneers didn’t go through this passageway but went around it. I drove to see some Oregon Trail wagon ruts but couldn’t get a good picture because they’re on private land.

But I did get a good look at this gal.

Lots of antelope and deer out today.

I’ve lived here 11 months — not yet a resident so it’s still OK to be a tourist, right?

This post is delayed a few weeks due to the untimely death of my hard drive. I happened to be in a legislative committee meeting about school finance and I was not too thrilled about losing a few hours worth of notes as well as hundreds of photos, clips and songs I didn’t back up. (As well as photo editing software, so pic quality is lacking.)

A few weeks ago, I joined some newish friends for a birthday camping weekend extravaganza. The site: Miracle Mile, a stretch of the North Platte River praised for its excellent fishing. What’s left of my camping stuff is scattered among closets and storage spaces at my mom’s house. Luckily, Carol lent me a sleeping bag and let me stay in her tent.

We drove out Friday night, the last 20 miles or so on two-tracks (dirt roads), and set up camp in the dark. Saturday was chilly — about 45 degrees — and overcast. Most of the Friday night crew went back to Casper, but a few of us stayed and went out to the Seminoe Dam and reservoir.

Seminoe Dam

We climbed a little to get a better view.

Seminoe Reservoir

Back at camp, I put my Girl Scout skills to use and built a fire that ended up being our nighttime fire too. Ranchers still let their cattle roam, so we had visitors to our camp.

moooo

Saturday night was much clearer. We saw so many stars we couldn’t make out constellations. Saturday night was even colder. Of course we left the next day when the sun came out and everything was starting to warm up.