Getaways for Winter Days

We all have our own ideas of the perfect winter getaway. For some people, it’s a tropical beach, far from the snow-covered driveway. (Whenever I say I miss snow, living here in Texas, my husband says, “That’s because you never had to shovel a driveway.” Which is true.) For some, it’s atop a ski mountain, or curled up by a fireplace on a cold, cold night.

What’s your dream winter escape?

That’s the topic for today’s threefer and our guest writer is Claire Walter, who has been writing about skiing and travel for years. She’s also blogging every which way, with blogs about travel, Colorado food, and Colorado bargains. She jokes that she’s “a travel writer who rarely leaves my time zone. People from all over the world come for our silky snowy, gorgeous mountains and great climate. I’m here to welcome them.”

Winter doesn't get much better than this. Photo courtesy Colorado Ski Country USA

For me, the ideal day is snow underfoot and sun overhead. Fortunately, the Colorado Rocky Mountains provide an abundance of both. I’m, equally happy on downhill skis, cross-country skis, and snowshoes, and if I had ever mastered snowboarding, I’d probably love that too.
I used to live in the Northeast where winter days were often gray, and where snow turned quickly to slush on city streets and to near-ice on the ski slopes. I lived in Colorado for two years before I stopped skiing with my toes curled in my boots to feel that I was holding on to the hardpack. Now I expect soft snow underfoot, cornflower-blue skies overhead and the sun shining down.–Claire

A winter beach is gloriously empty. Photo by alisonpavlos via flickr (Creative Commons license)

A good thick sweater is essential. Long johns, too. But–and sun worshippers are sure to call me crazy for it–I prefer visits to Jersey shore beaches (and other cold-in-the-winter locales) when everybody else is on the ski slopes. Though I enjoy a good Italian ice and a day of body surfing during high season, there’s something beautiful about a beach that’s empty and slightly somber. Winter waves are a powerful sight to see. I love watching the season’s intrepid surfers take them on. And did I mention the beaches are empty?–Jenna

Cold snow and hot springs are blissful combo. Photo by Sam & Mary Cissel/National Park Service.

My husband and I snowmobiled from Cody, Wyoming to Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel in Yellowstone National Park. I don’t particularly enjoy snowmobiles. They’re too loud, smelly, and fast for me and I always feel just one attention lapse away from disaster. Still, the scenery and experiences (including a terrifying race with a buffalo) we had on this 50-mile route were once-in-a-lifetime extraordinary. We ended that long day at the hotel where we rented a room and a private, outdoor hot tub. As we soaked away the day’s exertions, snow started falling, like stars from the night sky. I’d do it all again in a minute.–Sophia

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The Making of a Flyover American

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In 1977, I took my first cross-country trip with two girlfriends. I was 19 years old and, except for 10 days in London when I was 15, I’d never left the East Coast. Actually, I’d barely been out of New York City. Partway through the drive, I started writing a letter to my brother documenting the trip. I wrote 14 pages, all the way through the final leg of the drive, San Francisco to L.A. Nick saved the letter and returned it to me a few years ago. As literature, it’s unimpressive. But as a record of the awakening of a provincial city girl, it’s kinda special.

Here, a few excerpts from the road trip that made me a Flyover American.

…
We just arrived in Nebraska. This is the state I’ve been dying to hit. I never thought I’d be in Nebraska, ever. To be here is the fulfillment of an anti-dream.
…
The Rockies just came into view. They’re really vague, just a purple haze, but you can already see an outline. They loom ahead. The Rockies. What am I doing here?
…
Next we drove to Utah. We went the scenic route, though. The scenery we saw was simply dreamland. We went up about 12000 feet, onto the tundra. It was all grass & little flowers & babbling brooks & serene mountain lakes. It was national park land, too, so there was no commercial anything, just heavy-duty nature. After a while we started to go down. We went through real farm land (a lot of cows) and it started to get drier and drier as we got nearer to the desert. The land was unbelievable. It was fertile, but not all over. There were cliffs & hills with red & grey & brown patterns and ranches and stuff.
…
…we stopped in a little town called Steamboat Springs for lunch. We had picked up a hitchhiker on her way there, so we ate in probably the only restaurant. It was a really pretty valley, and the people were incredible. They were all cowboys, hats, boots & all. All of them were old and they had super-personality faces.
…
Nevada is another statement in surrealism. Miles & miles of desert & nothingness, until you hit a city, which just springs up with neon flashing at you hysterically.
…
The next day we drove to L.A. That was a spectacular drive. We drove literally along the coast. I can’t even explain what it was like. I could feel the U.S stretching out, miles & miles of it, to my left. To look at where the land met the sea on the other side of the continent took my breath away. I could also see the coast stretching out before me, and I felt like we were driving along the edge of a map.
…
I now understand what patriotism is all about. I never understood the vastness & color of the country, and I’ve only seen a fraction of it. It’s so rich & beautiful & everything is different. New York is not America. I can’t wait for my next trip.

Well, see you soon.

Please don’t throw away this letter.

I’m so happy.

Sophie

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Focus on America’s National Parks: Images of Yellowstone

It has finally arrived. Yesterday, the first episode of The National Parks: America’s Best Idea provided the best excuse in recent memory to avoid all to-dos, to step away from the musts, to ignore text messages and e-mails.

The show began with a quote from John Muir: “Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to the body and soul.”

I thought back on some of the beauty I’ve experienced in the National Parks. The day at Denali when, with just a few other people around, I watched a moose taking a midday bath with her newborns. The afternoon a foghorn broke through the quiet of a hike in Acadia National Park. And the hundreds of images I focused on during a three-day photography workshop in Yellowstone National Park. Here, some of the photos I settle into when I need to pull back from daily life. I hope you enjoy them.

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Flashbulb Memories, Take One

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With cameras on cell phones, cameras in lipstick containers and cameras on the back of Toyota Priuses, it’s practically un-American in this day and age to travel without the means to photograph. In the spirit of capturing images from the road, we thought we’d each share some of our favorite travel photos and the stories behind them.

This isn’t a one-time thing, mind you. Check back once a month for another installment of what we’re calling “Flashbulb Memories.” We admit that we didn’t coin that phrase ourselves: A Flashbulb Memory is a moment so emotionally powerful, that you remember it vividly. For example, many people have flashbulb memories of where they were when they learned of the attack on the World Trade Center, or when President John F. Kennedy was shot. Here are some of ours.

If only it were better than crunches.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? Except when you’re drunk, meandering around the mall at the top of the Stratosphere and you (quite literally) stumble into a bunch of folks filming an Infomercial. Yes, that’s my belly in this picture. And yes, I’m wearing an AbTronic, one of those (ill-fated) abdominal electro-stimulators that promised to help you shed pounds without doing squat. My buddy had enough sense to shoot pictures during filming as evidence of the event. Months later, I saw myself on TV as “Matt from New York,” extolling the virtues a gizmo I didn’t even own. —Matt

No Orcas, but still an adventure

Dodgy late-May weather, a shut-tight car rental office, and a pebbled parking lot that turned my smooth-rolling suitcase into a wobbily clunker had me questioning my visit to Cordova, Alaska. My mood improved greatly after arriving at Orca Adventure Lodge, a fish cannery-turned-hotel that sits on Prince William Sound’s Orca Inlet. A few hours after dinner, I was treated to this view. Instantly, like turned to love. And that was before I even got to see the sea otters playing out in the water —Jenna

Storm clouds over Woodward

Those storm clouds over Woodward, Oklahoma helped create the thick red mud in which a truck full of birdwatchers got stuck. Our group stopped to help out, and while the big strong men among us (and one scrappy woman) went to help push the truck, I turned and saw the light on this red, white and blue scene, which struck me as beautiful. Still does. The truck was soon freed and we were on our way–Sophia

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