This shot was taken in April 2006 when snow was lingering way longer than it had any right to. Not so long ago this country was part of a larger entity, and the location is near the border of a third country. The best thing is that after a brisk hike through this bizarre landscape you’ll be guaranteed some of the best beer in the world.
24 Hour Road Trip: Philadelphia Inside Out
Once, I got the bright idea that we should take a walking tour of Cleveland, Ohio. I had read that Cleveland is one of the top cities for walking in the U.S. “Let’s see why!” I was enthusiastic when we put our then 1 1/2 year-old in the jogging stoller and told our then 10 year-old to tie up her sneakers for our stroll from Tower City to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and back to Tower City. Six and a half hours later, we dragged ourselves back to the car. The day wasn’t exactly a failure, but it wasn’t the grand experience I had imagined.
This tour of Philadelphia called “24 Hour Road Trip: Philadelphia Inside Out” looks like it offers the solution that our walking tour of Cleveland missed–a focus and a sense of humor. This Saturday, August 18, three tour guides extraordinaire who have experience with city walkabouts will be leading people on a 24 hour excursion of the City of Brotherly Love. Kurt Braunohler, a comedian with loads of TV face time, Scott Gabriel Knowles, a professor at Drexel University who knows bunches about urban life, and Calvin Johnson, also a well-versed urbanite, have teamed up before. Here’s the link to their bios. They look like three guys who would be fun to hang out with.
Instead of just telling you about Philadelphia, their aim is to semi-guide people through their own experiences of the city. Along the way, the group will chronicle what is discovered as they move from place to place interacting with Philadelphia and those who they come across. The group’s discoveries will be shared with others via the Internet. If this gang goes to Cleveland, I’m in. I’d like to have a chat with them about psychogeography, one of the words they use to describe the essence of their 24 hour trip. [Thanks to Marilyn Terrell, our National Geographic Traveler tipster for the heads up about this tour.]
A Long Weekend in Denali National Park
There are a few ways to experience Denali National Park and Preserve. One is to arrive like a rajah on the second floor of a domed rail car or lofty motor coach, and stay at one of the plush corporate lodges. From there you can book a number of excursions that include flight seeing, river rafting, and guided hikes and tours.
Or you can arrive independent of commercial companies, bus into the park, and backpack through terrain absent of trails but full of grizzlies, caribou, and panoramic views.
Our approach was a compromise between the two options above. A good friend who works for one of the large tour companies got my husband and I free round-trip tickets for the train as a gift for our one-year anniversary. While the tourists arrived from their hotels via motor coach, we parked our car in downtown Anchorage and boarded with large packs. From there it was a spectacular 8-hour ride to the park. The sky was cloudless, and Mt. McKinley (“Denali” or just “The Mountain” to locals) was looming — a rare sight.
After we disembarked we took a shuttle to Riley Creek Campground, just inside the park boundaries. We walked in, but were clearly outsiders; the campground was full of RVs and campers. We couldn’t find any bear-proof storage bins so we left our food outside the tent and hoped for the best. Not the smartest thing to do, but I figured if there had been any bear problems we would’ve heard about them. It turns out that our biggest problem was aggressive and fearless squirrels.
The next morning, our only full day in the park, we caught a 9:30 a.m. “shuttle” (read: school bus) that took us on a several-hour journey to the Toklat River, just over 50 miles in. Along the way our driver stopped for caribou, eagles, and one large but distant grizzly. The park road, 91 miles long, is unpaved and only open to shuttles; the ride is dusty and bumpy, but one of the coolest and easiest ways to access Alaska’s backcountry. You buy a ticket for as far in as you’d like to go and can get off and on wherever you want.
We arrived at the Toklat just after 1 p.m., and since it was such a perfectly warm and sunny day decided to take a hike up an enticing valley across the river.
We crossed the river, filled our water bottles from a bubbling spring, snapped the following photos,
and went on our wary way. We followed a glacial stream up the steep valley until it became more of a canyon. As we climbed, the orange walls became steep and towering and when we looked back, the top of Denali rose heavily above the mountains (see first photo).
It was one of those rare perfect Alaskan days — the sun was warm, there was a slight breeze, and no bugs. We found a patch of meadow and took a short nap before continuing up the canyon. We reached a surreal-looking landscape where the stream we’d been following split and flowed from several sources. This was our stopping point.
Since we had to make the last bus out of the park at 7 p.m. we didn’t have time to scale one of the higher ridges, much to Lael’s disappointment. Reluctantly, we made our way back down the creek, across the river, and on a waiting school bus. Back at camp we devoured our pasta and were in bed far earlier than is normal.
It turned out that our glorious weather was short-lived — it began raining sometime during the night and when we woke up everything was soggy. I peeled my damp pants on over my sweaty, dusty skin and made my way through the rain to the nearby general store, where I indulged in a latte and hot shower ($4 each). Civilization was never too far away. We boarded the train back to Anchorage later that morning, scrubbed and happy.
Blogger Matthew Firestone
Introducing another new blogger at Gadling, Matthew Firestone…
Where was your photo taken? This shot was taken at the summit of Mt. Sinai in Egypt shortly after sunrise. Although I’m trying my hardest to look awake and alert, I can hardly keep my eyes open. The trek to the top of Sinai was a gruelling overnight trudge, but it was worth every blister, stubbed toe and twisted ankle.
Where do you live now? Tokyo, Japan (???????????)
Scariest airline flown? Egypt Scare, er, Egypt Air. Call me crazy, but it should cost more than the price of a decent meal back home to fly across a country as enormous as Egypt. Then again, when the plane is a 1970s Russian-built Aeroflot complete with a tweed and beige interior, perhaps not.
Favorite city/country/place? Namibia – for the beauty and isolation of its landscape – though fresh sushi on any of Okinawa’s beaches is a close second.
Most remote corner of the globe visited? Against both my better judgment and my survival instincts, I trekked through the Darien Gap, the infamous no-man’s land between Panama and Colombia famous for FARC rebels, paramilitary and a healthy dose of pit vipers. My mother still hasn’t forgiven me.
Favorite guidebook series? Lonely Planet, particularly the editions I write.
The most unusual food I’ve ever eaten is… odorigui, which translates to ‘dancing-eating’ or the practice of consuming live animals. I assure you nothing can compare to the sensation of eating a writhing octopus tentacle that has just been chopped off its still-breathing host.
Worst armpit visited? Zimbabwe in summer of 2006 was about as bad as it gets, though I’m told it’s worse now. At the time, hyperinflation was nearing 1000%, which meant that a bottle of coke was priced at about 630,000 Zim Dollars. Of course, this was assuming you could even find a bottle of coke due to a nationwide shortage of sugar, petrol and just about every other commodity.
First culture shock experience? I grew up in a small town in New Jersey famous for drag-racing, strip malls and suburban discontent. Needless to say, you can imagine my culture shock when I found out that New Jersey wasn’t exactly like the rest of the world.
Puerto Rico’s Guanica Dry Forest
I spent a long weekend diving and cavorting around Vieques Island off of Puerto Rico a few months ago, and I was very pleased with the experience. I particularly enjoyed swimming at night and paddling in the Bio Bay Reserve there, a small inlet wherein swim gazzillions of luminescent plankton that seem to magically light up around you when you swim in the water. But one thing I noticed about Vieques was how dry and rather barren the island is. Don’t know what I was expecting exactly. Maybe just a lot more palm trees.
The recollection of this aridness is what came to mind when I read this finely wrought piece about Guanica Dry Forest, a state forest on Puerto Rico’s southwest coast. It is dry there…hence the name. But the author encounters a variety of birds and wildlife that help make the place seem far more exotic than a visit to Puerto Rico. She also comes across the “Guayacan Centenario,” a plant older than Columbus. Or older than Columbus would be if here were still alive…in which case he’d likely be very shriveled and green. But I’d still have a beer with him. Anyway, my interest was piqued by this piece and I confess a tremor of regret that I never saw the Guanica Dry Forest during my own trip the PR. Perhaps next time.