A Vacation Alphabet - Part 8

V is for Vistas 

Colorado is full of them. But then, I suppose any state is. It's just that in Colorado, you find yourself wanting to just stand there and drink them in with your eyes. Whereas while driving through Nebraska, you find yourself looking out the window and wondering just how many more hours you have of driving through Nebraska. (My apologies to any readers in or from Nebraska.)

W is for Wildlife 

We encountered mountain goats on Mt. Quandary. We also saw a few marmots sunning themselves on the rocks.

X is for eXtreme eXertion 

Which is what hiking 14ers requires. For some more than others. When we finally made it back to the car, I looked and felt like this:

Travis, meanwhile, was still all smiles and high spirits. Which I found both admirable and irritating, to be honest.

Y is for "You’ve Got to Be Kidding Me"

Which is what I was thinking (above) when faced with the prospect of hiking another 14er just a few days later.

Z is for Zany 
Which is what you become towards the end of driving straight through from Denver to Chicago, which is what we did on the way home. Thankfully, the Hubs and I make good traveling buddies. Although anyone forced to listen in on one of our silly sing-a-longs probably wouldn't agree. But then that's the beauty of us: WE think we're hilarious. :)

And that's the end of my Vacation Alphabet! 

A Vacation Alphabet - Part 7

S is for Street Food

A love a good open air market. The small town of Minturn, not too far from Vail, has a nice market every Saturday morning during the summer. We enjoyed wandering through the aisles of vendors, which offered wares ranging from jewelry, specialty pasta, clothes, accessories, kitchen goods, dog paraphernalia, and even "Dope on a Rope" (soap made from hemp). There were also a good number of food stalls, and picking just one was difficult. Travis and I settled on the crepe tent and shared a savory creation brimming with good things. I don't remember exactly what was in there, but I think turkey, tomatoes, spinach, and cheese were involved.

T is for Treacherous Trail

Descending the exposed ridge after reaching the summit of Mt. Sherman. Yikes.

U is for Unexpected Beauty

Scattered amidst the Rockies' harsh terrain are little patches of color and beauty for those who will notice.

A Vacation Alphabet - Part 6

P is for Pizza

If you ever find yourself near Leadville, Colorado, stop in for a pizza (and some crazy good garlic bread) at High Mountain Pies. Trust me (and Travis, and all the 5-star Yelp reviews) on this one. 

 Travis and I shared "El Hidalgo," which featured a garlic oil base topped with thinly sliced beef sirloin, dried cherries, caramelized onions, blue cheese, and arugula--a delicious combination.

 My parents chose their own toppings: a basil pesto base, topped with roasted chicken, roma tomatoes, and mozzarella--modeled loosely on my homemade version, of which my mom especially is a big fan.

Q is for Quandary 

 quandary (noun): a situation from which extrication is difficult, especially an unpleasant or trying one; a state of uncertainty or perplexity

Yes, Mt. Quandary is aptly named.

R is for Reflection

A Vacation Alphabet - Part 4

J is for Journey Companion
A long road trip can be a good test of just how well two people get along. Our drive to Colorado and back was the longest road trip Travis and I have taken together, and I just have to say, there's nothing quite as sweet as having the perfect companion for the journey. Not that either of us are perfect (far from it!), but our vacation this summer was just one more compelling illustration of how we are perfect for each other. Love you, hubs.

K is for Kaleidoscope

That's what this sculpture reminded me of as I gazed up at it, squinting against the strong Colorado sun.

L is for Landmark (and the obligatory photos we take with them)

 

The alphabet continues on the other side of the weekend!  

A Vacation Alphabet - Part 3

G is for Grass

On our descent of Mt. Quandary, Travis celebrated when we reached tree line, because it signaled the end of the seemingly endless rocks. On the way down Mt. Sherman, my knees were protesting against the pressure of descending rock after rock after rock. (My feet weren't too happy about it, either.) Therefore, when we reached the grassy Iowa Gulch, I had to do a little celebrating of my own. That grass was beautiful, and it deserved a kiss.

H is for Hiking Gear 

When setting out on a substantial trek, it's important to have the right gear. When we hiked the 23 miles around Lake Geneva on Memorial Day, I learned the hard way that my boots were really too small, and it cost me a toenail. Travis learned that no matter how much cushion his socks might provide, his boots were always going to give him blisters. And so we decided that before our trip this summer we had to invest in some really good hiking boots. After trying on several styles at REI, we both decided on Keens. My new boots carried me up and down two fourteeners, and around the Maroon Bells, without a single blister. Those are some good boots.

When setting out on a day hike, it's also important to have a good pack. If I wasn't convinced before, these two mountains confirmed for me how much better it is for a woman to wear a pack designed and sized for a woman. I have the Sirrus 24 pack by Osprey; the hip belt sits at just the right place, the chest strap is appropriately positioned to not squish the girls, the size perfectly fits my torso, and all of the adjusting straps allow me to hold the load close to my body and get the weight distributed just right. I highly recommend this pack.

I is for Incredible Views

The Rocky Mountains are full of them, of course. Here are a couple of my favorites from this trip.

Mt. of the Holy Cross...can you find the cross of snow?

Amazingly turquoise blue lake down in the valley, as seen from the ridge on Mt. Sherman

The alphabet continues tomorrow!

A Vacation Alphabet - Part 2

D is for Dessert

I rarely need an excuse to order dessert, but "Hey, I'm on vacation!" is a great one if I find myself hesitating. Here's the Triple Berry Chocolate Mousse Torte that Travis and I shared at Dixie Quick's (see E below).  We were half-way through it before I thought to take a picture. Yeah, it was that good.

E is for Eat Like a Local

The hubs and I watch our fair share of Food Network. Inevitably, that affects the way we think about food-- how we prepare it, how we think and talk about it, and where we eat it. There are a number of shows on FN that feature and promote local establishments, especially Guy Fieri's Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, and The Best Thing I Ever Ate. Seeing how many great restaurants and delectable dishes are out there, Travis and I have developed the practice of seeking out local, independent joints when we travel, rather than routinely settling for the safe and familiar chain restaurants by the highway exit. With FN's recommendations as our guide (and also a few shout-outs from friends), on this trip we set out to eat where the locals eat, and were not disappointed.

A few highlights: In Omaha, NE on the way out we stopped for dinner at Dixie Quicks. This is the kind of place an out of towner would probably never drive by in the first place (since it's on an out of the way street in a not-so-pretty part of town), and even if they did, probably wouldn't notice. If not for the GPS announcing our arrival, we might have missed it the first time too, even though we were looking for it. The restaurant has an unassuming facade on a rather industrial street. Inside, however, the decor is surprisingly colorful, elegant, and eclectic. The menu changes daily, and is printed in chalk on a board at one end of the dining room. The chef's creations are influenced by time spent in various regions of the country, especially the south. I ordered the blackened salmon, which came with mashed potatoes and this delicious tomato butter sauce, and Travis ordered the pan-fried catfish with collard greens. (Please note: In case you're thinking about checking this place out, I noticed on Dixie Quicks' website that they'll be moving to Council Bluffs, IA on the other side of the river Fall 2011.) 

In Denver we had lunch with friends (see F below) at The Cherry Cricket, which we'd seen featured on The Best Thing I Ever Ate for having the best burger in Denver (in the opinion of Aaron Sanchez, at least). We weren't terribly impressed with the service here, but the burgers were superb, and the fries as well. 

On our return trip across the Midwest we stopped for dinner at WheatFields in Omaha, which came highly recommended by Chris & Janelle (again, see F below). This is one of those places where you walk in and find yourself mesmerized by the bounty and variety of baked goods on display, and the once seated, completely overwhelmed (in a good way) by the sheer abundance of menu items. The highlight of our meal here: the cinnamon roll that came with Travis's quiche trio as a sort of "first course," the same way a salad might come before lasagna. Giant frosting-covered cinnamon roll as first course? Indulgent. Delicious. Genius.

 

F is for Friends

The lure of Colorado has called several of my friends out west. While I miss having them nearby, the upside is that trips to Colorado are usually peppered with reconnecting with people I love dearly. This trip was no exception. We got to have lunch with my college roommate Cheryl and her husband Joe, stay with Rachel & Eric (who played an integral role in bringing the hubs and I together), and spend a delightful afternoon dining and visiting with TU friends Chris & Janelle and their daughter, Sophie. Here we are with them at the mall:

Stay tuned for Part 3 tomorrow!

A Vacation Alphabet - Part 1

A couple posts back, I wrote about how preparing for a vacation gets me all stressed out, and how even once I'm actually ON vacation, I have a hard time relaxing. And so because I felt myself an abecedarian when it comes to knowing how to kick back and get away from it all, I charged myself with the task of creating a Vacation Alphabet. The intent was simply to challenge myself to take notice, to reflect along the way. Which is good, because if the intent had really been to learn how to relax (and then practice so doing) I would have failed miserably. A relaxing vacation does not involve getting up at 3:00 on multiple days (or ever). A relaxing vacation does not require a person to be on their feet for 7-12 hours at a time, besieged by sun, wind, rain, and hail. A relaxing vacation generally does not involve riding in a car until stir crazy. And so, I can't exactly say that I had a relaxing vacation. I did, however, have a WONDERFUL time. Made some INCREDIBLE memories with my family. Spent precious face time with friends I love DEARLY. And drank in the tremendous BEAUTY of God's creation. Here are a few of the highlights, ABC-style.

A is for Accomplishment 

EARLY Sunday morning, Travis, my dad, and I abandoned the comfort of our beds and stumbled bleary-eyed out to the car. (As if waking in order to leave the timeshare by 4:00 wasn't bad enough, the fire alarm had gone off in our building at 2:30am, mandating our pajama-clad evacuation, after which we huddled together in the cool of the night for about half an hour before allowed to return to our unit.) We arrived at the trail head for Mt. Quandary as the sun was coming up, and began the 5.9 mile round trip hike to the summit and back. This was my second 14er, Travis' 21st, and my dad's first. As we began hiking through the trees, we had no idea of the EPIC JOURNEY the day would hold for us. It was a LONG day. It was an arduous hike that took its toll on all of us, especially my 69 year-old dad. We encountered sun, wind, hail, and rain during the 11 hours we spent on the mountain that day. We felt our hearts pounding in our chests, our lungs gasping the thin air, our knees protesting the pounding of coming down all those rocks. But WE MADE IT to the summit and back down to the car. And we did it TOGETHER. And that is an ACCOMPLISHMENT, achieved with the two men I love most, that I will remember always.   

at the summit of Mt. Quandary

B is for Baby & Boulder & Bus

After we parted ways with my parents in Vail, we got to spend a few days of quality time near Denver with friends Rachel & Eric and their baby, Ty. On the day Travis & Eric climbed Mt. Princeton, Rachel and I took a trip to Boulder to visit the their farmer's market. Ty gets fussy during long car rides, but singing calms him down. Enter: a long, strange rendition of "The Wheels on the Bus." Rachel and I sang a reprise on the way home from church the next day, causing Eric to exclaim, "What kind of bus is this?!" The kind that provides an outlet for my litany of animal noises. Among other things, the bus had doggies, kitties, cows, chickens, and monkeys. Lots of monkeys. :)

cuteness himself

C is for Cairn

In July 2009 I hiked my first fourteener, Mt. Evans, with Travis by my side. I added a word to my vocabulary that day: cairn. Do you know what a cairn is? A cairn is "a mound of stones piled up as a memorial or to mark a boundary or path." I learned that cairns are essential to finding your way on the mountain, to following the trail you are meant to take. Because the Rocky Mountains are indeed very rocky, a pile of stones off in the distance doesn't necessarily stand out when you scan the horizon. Sometimes you have to really look for them. Likewise, the trail ahead isn't always clear. Hiking Evans, I turned finding cairns into a bit of a game. It was a simple game that consisted of: hike along, and when you find the next cairn, yell "CAIRN!" Really. That's it. But there's something about it that I find amusing and engaging; I become like a kid, excited at finding each successive item in one of those "hidden picture" activities in magazines for kids. (Anybody else out there grow up with Highlights?) So when we hiked Quandary & Sherman on this trip, I played my game. I searched for the cairns, and loudly announced my discoveries. When you've left the trail head behind, but you're still a long way from the summit, focusing on the peak is discouraging (at least to me); focusing instead on reaching the next cairn, and then the next, and then the next, is much less daunting. Each cairn is an indication of where to go, and as you look back, proof that you've made progress, even if it doesn't seem like it. There are a lot of parallels between hiking a trail to the summit, and life. Cairns are important to the journey.

Travis and I with a cairn and the view--OH, the VIEW!--at the summit of Mt. Sherman

Stay tuned for Part 2, coming soon!

The Storm Before the Calm

Tomorrow morning at 8:00 the hubby and I intend to hit the open road in our sporty little black wagon, bound for adventure, grand vistas, and vacation with my parents in Vail. In between hiking to the tops of 14ers and visiting with friends flung across the front range, some relaxation is on the agenda. Yes, I said that relaxing is on the agenda, because that's how I roll. I am an J (for all you Myers-Briggs-ers out there) and I have to plan in order to relax.

I love going on vacation, but the truth is, I often stress myself out in the process of getting there. When packing, I want to think of everything I might possibly need. I have this fear of forgetting something important, and because I'm cheap I'll kick myself for having to purchase something once there that I already had at home. For the past several weeks I've had "things to pack" pop into my head at random times and places...in the shower, at the grocery store, in the middle of dinner, lying in bed at night trying to shut off my list-making brain. I had to start a real list (broken down into major and minor categories, of course) and every time I thought of something else I'd run and add it to the list. I factor in contingency plans. I check weather reports. I MapQuest. I invariably pack more books, music, games, and other forms of entertainment than I will ever get to while away from home (case in point: I just checked out 5 audiobooks from the library). Something about "vacation" triggers this irrationality that being away from home and relieved of the responsibilities of work for a time will somehow multiply my ability (and desire) to do and consume. When really, isn't the purpose of a vacation to slow down and not do, and to sit back and not consume so much?

Yes, when it comes to vacation and relaxing, I am definitely still an abecedarian (as in, a novice still learning the rudiments of a subject). Given this admission, I am charging myself with this assignment: to discover the ABCs of vacation, and to blog about it when I get home. (I'm such a nerd I just gave myself homework for vacation! I'm hopeless!) I'll be taking my trusty Canon along with me, and hope to capture some of the entries to present in photo form.

What about you? Are you an old pro when it comes to getting away and kicking back? Or do you get all worked up about the prospect of not working?

Autumn in Maine

At the end of last week I spent a few days in Maine for work. The leaves there were a little ahead of the Chicago area in terms of changing, but still a couple weeks away from "peak" color. Nevertheless, it was beautiful to spend a few days in a place where the land undulates and the trees WAY outnumber the people. This shot was taken on a misty morning, looking down the road from the home where we held our meetings.

Labor Day Adventures

My husband and I spent Labor Day meandering our way home from Kalamazoo, MI where we'd spent the weekend helping friends get settled in their new home. With adventurous spirits and no agenda or time restraints, we ventured off the highway at several different exits, bent on exploring and celebrating the beginning of autumn.

At our first stop we enjoyed free tastings at two different wineries (the second included a tour also). From the first we selected a bottle of red currant wine. We walked away from the second (a little unsteadily...that was quite a bit of wine before lunch!) with a bottle of concord dessert wine. Thankfully, there was an Irish pub right across the street where we steadied ourselves with a very-non-Irish but delicious chicken pesto pizza. After that it was back to the highway.

Several more miles down the road we pulled off I-94 at Exit 39 (Coloma, MI), which turned out to be a wonderful decision. First we visited The Chocolate Garden, which is heavily promoted by billboards on 94. We weren't impressed and declared it overrated. Next we visited Grandpa's Cider Mill, where we bellied up to the bar for another free tasting; this time, the offering was custom-mixed cider, available in over 25 flavors! We tried probably 12-15 flavors before deciding on peach, amaretto, and horchata for pints to purchase and take home. Since by that point we'd pretty much established that the whole day would be one big sugar fest, we picked up pumpkin and blueberry donuts as well. 

We continued down the road and stopped at Vineyards Gourmet Chocolate--unadvertised, but vastly superior (in our opinion) to The Chocolate Garden. It's a family owned shop (dad, mom, and son were all there working, and friendly as could be) and they had a wonderful selection of chocolates, candies, and fudge. After more sampling, we each decided on a sliver of fudge to take with us: maple walnut for Travis, and Pumpkin Pie for me. This shop also had decor items for sale, and we decided one of the Amish-made wooden signs belonged in our home:

Since we'd had such a great time picking blueberries earlier in the summer, we were hoping to find a fruit farm where we could do some more picking. Enter Jollay Orchards, where we quickly picked a bushel of apples (Gala, McIntosh, and Cortland) for 89 cents per pound.

We rounded out our trip home with some shopping at the Lighthouse Place Premium Outlets in Michigan City, IN. I was on the lookout for a celebratory "Welcome Autumn" sweater or jacket. Travis helped me pick out a cozy zip-up jacket in deep eggplant at Gap.

Dancing in the Minefields

One of the things I love about attending weddings is getting to watch the older couples dance - you know, the couples with wrinkled faces and gnarled hands who have weathered decades together as husband and wife, who may be a little stooped or whose once-smooth moves may be reduced to a shuffle, but who nevertheless move as one and portray in their shared gaze a depth of comfort and understanding that inspires awe and makes you yearn for the same. Couples who have danced in the minefields and sailed through the storms. They're someone's grandparents, or great aunt and uncle, or neighbors. They're my heroes.

Of course, dancing couples needn't be geriatric to garner my attention and respect, and weddings aren't the only place to witness dancing. Case in point: while wandering around Granada during our trip to Spain in June, we came upon a plaza with a stage, a band, and a collection of couples dancing to the music in the heat of the day. To us it was unexpected, unexplained, and magical. We joined the crowd gathered around the perimeter and watched, with grins on our faces and the promise of a lifetime in our clasped hands.

In the Company of True Friends

I spent this past weekend in New York City, where I was joined by 6 of my dear sister-friends (of the 11 total) from college, who came in from Colorado, Illinois, Ohio, and Pennsylvania to join Lynn, who lives there. The occasion was our annual girls weekend, the 8th since we graduated from Taylor.

It "just so happened" (as in, God miraculously arranged) that girls weekend was also opening weekend for Redd Tale Theatre's Triumph of Love, the show in which Lynn brilliantly plays the lead. The weekend also included pedicures, street food, a leisurely afternoon in Central Park, a "homemade" baby shower for Becca, and lots of time sitting around together, sharing the highs and lows of the previous year. My heart feeds on these weekends and I always come away with a renewed awareness of how blessed I am by these friendships.

In the company of true friends...

...it's perfectly acceptable to go from laughing to crying in 10 seconds flat.
...it's safe to confess our fears and anxieties, our longings and frustrations, our hopes and dreams.
...it's okay to ask those vulnerable questions we can't ask anywhere else, and to wrestle with the answers.
...I am inspired to trust, to hope, and to believe.
...I am moved to give God glory and turn to Him for help.
...I am most myself.

To my friends: 

Thank you for loving and encouraging me. You are beautiful and strong and brave. I would not be the woman I am without the reality and promise of your presence in my life, year in and year out. I thank my God for you.

Berry Good Summer So Far

Today was a very satisfying day in my kitchen. I kicked things off this morning by baking a batch of blueberry muffins, using some of the blueberries Travis and I picked a couple weekends ago in Michigan (which I'd frozen in the meantime) to make the blueberry muffin recipe from The New Best Recipe Cookbook (the heftiest and most helpful cookbook on my shelf). Both were a first for me (blueberry picking, and making this recipe) and both will definitely be repeated! Travis and I had a lot of fun out there in the field, filling our buckets (and our tummies) with blueberries, and are hoping to go raspberry picking this fall. The muffin recipe, while a bit more involved than your average muffin mix, produced THE BEST blueberry muffins I've ever made. These will square off against a blueberry muffin recipe I received from a co-worker (who is a long-time blueberry picker), and then a champion will be named and forever written into the family cookbook.

On to more berry goodness! It's no secret that I love making trifles. So easy. So pretty. So because it's our turn to bring a snack to our small group meeting tonight, I decided to make a Lemon Berry Trifle. Behold: 

City Dog Goes to the Country

ANJING'S FIRST ROAD TRIP: This series of photos documents the weekend I (hereafter Auntie Suz) took my nephew (aka best friend's dog) on a road trip to Michigan to visit my in-laws and meet my niece (aka sister-in-law's brand new baby). Narrated by Anjing (the dog).

 On Friday afternoon, Auntie Suz was all over the place. 

I could tell something was up.

 Then Uncle Travis came home and they loaded up the car. Road trip!

 I like car rides. Usually after a while I just lie down and go to sleep. About half way there, I was rudely awakened by what they called a Silly Satterlee Sing-a-long. Those people are crazy.

 Look Mom! I'm in Michigan!

 We stayed at a house where they had this thing called a "fenced-in yard." I'd never seen anything like it! I could run all over the place without a leash...

 ...and pee anywhere I wanted, whenever I felt like it. It was great.

 This was my kingdom for the weekend.

 I mostly ruled from the porch, where I took naps in the shade.

 Auntie Suz wanted to get a photo of me with the pretty flowers. 

I wanted to give her a kiss instead.

 Uncle Travis and I played lots.

The people there were obsessed with this tiny human they called a "baby." It made lots of noise and smelled funny. At first I wasn't sure what to think so I growled at it. That didn't go over real well, so I decided I should be friendly instead.

 One afternoon Uncle Travis took a nap. 

This is when I decided it was time for him to wake up.

 Auntie Suz, where are we gonna go next?

Culinary World Tour: Barbados!

Over Memorial Day Weekend I surprised Travis with an overnight getaway to Rockford, in celebration of the end of school and his birthday. We kicked things off Saturday morning with hiking at Rock Cut State Park, followed by a picnic lunch on the lawn overlooking one of the park's two lakes. We did a little more hiking after that, then drove into downtown Rockford to check things out. As it turns out, downtown Rockford is a rather forlorn place on the weekends. It felt dead and deserted. We walked around a bit, but the heat of the and lack of life on the streets soon compelled us to head to the hotel for some rest before getting clean and dressed up for dinner.

The restaurant I chose for dinner was another stop on our culinary tour around the world: Barbados. Austrian-born Josef Schwaiger opened the restaurant in 2005. Josef worked all over the world (Austria, London, Germany, Switzerland, and Africa) until finally settling in Barbados, which he has called home for over 20 years. He owns and operates three restaurants in Barbados in addition to the restaurant in Rockford, which is his first establishment in the U.S. I have no idea why he chose Rockford, of all places, but I'm sure glad we found his restaurant there! Travis and I have shared some very fine meals thus far in our relationship, and our experience at Josef's ranks right up there among the contenders for top dining experience. Granted, what we had for dinner is probably far from typical fare in Barbados, but given that Barbados is in the restaurant's name, and Travis did order the one thing on the menu that had "Barbadian" in the name (being the Barbadian Rum Punch, with which he is pictured below), I think we can check Barbados off our list. 

In addition to incredible taste, the dishes were also beautifully presented. I tried to discreetly snap photos of each dish, capturing them the best I could in low lighting without flash. Here's our meal:

Cheers!

My berry mojito and the appetizer of oysters on a half shell, which Travis had all to himself. 

I don't eat little bodies served in their home.

My baby greens salad with toasted pecans, warm goat cheese croutons, and blueberry vinaigrette.

Best. Croutons. Ever. 

My entree: Chilean Sea Bass

Travis' entree: Salmon

Dessert: dark chocolate mousse with chocolate ice cream and truffles