A Grand Southern Italy Journey

A Grand Southern Italy Journey

I don’t recall when and how we came up with the idea to go on a trip to Italy with our friends the Cornejos and Corrigans. I suspect it happened during JC’s surprise birthday party in Las Vegas in early 2025. There was some debate on when we should go and what the trip would look like. I thought RV’ing through Italy would be a good idea. The Cornejos wanted to book a few Airbnbs in a few cities and the Corrigans were open to anything. Right around the first of the year, we picked some dates and started planning.

I pressed for southern Italy as Mandy and I have been to northern Italy a few times and while I love that part of Italy, I thought this was a chance for me to see something new. There was group buy-in for the most part, and the planning commenced.

We decided to go late April and early May to avoid the summer heat and hopefully the crowds. I liked the idea of flying directly into Rome since I had never been south of Rome. Also flying direct and avoiding some of the travel struggles of other trips to Europe was very appealing. I thought we could drive directly east toward the Adriatic Sea and then follow the coast clockwise for two weeks, returning to Rome at the end. The Cornejos wanted to go to Florence which was going to throw a wrench in my plans but they said maybe they would go there first and meet us. So we then all agreed we would buy tickets and we were really going to do this.

Late in the planning, I got a call from Rick Cornejo on a Sunday to say that he and Julie were not going to be able to go because he had a state audit at work that he would need to deal with and was going to be during our selected time. We tried coming up with a few other options so they could be included, but it just wasn’t going to happen. I then suggested that maybe we invite our other mutual friends the Reeves. They expressed interest, but there were going to be some challenges for them, and they were unsure. The Corrigans had some friends from Sarasota who had gone to JC’s 60th birthday in Las Vegas and thought they might be interested. That didn’t work out either. So relatively quickly, we realized it was just going to be the Farquhars and the Corrigans. I wondered if that was going to be less fun and if we would tire of each other after two weeks. The short answer is that a group of six created some logistical issues that became apparent during the trip, and the four of had a grand time with no issues.

Here is a link to our original itinerary and the map we intended to follow. We did not adhere to it exactly, but pretty close. I offer it up as a good starting point for anyone else who might like a head start in planning. The map below is where we really went.

Click the image to go the the Google map of the places we actually went. We tagged them all but two.

As a basic summary, this was a tremendous trip. It will probably be a ‘top 5’ in my life, and I have been lucky enough to have been on some good ones so far. The scenery, culture and companionship were great. The following is A LOT of detail, mostly for my own reference in the future so I can reminisce.

Sunday 4/26: Mandy and I arrived in Rome a little before noon, met the Corrigans in the baggage area. We then got our rental car. They gave us a new Volkswagen T-Roc, which was nice and just big enough. We drove through Rome heading East toward Sulmona where we had an Airbnb reservation. We drove through most of Rome since the airport is in West side of the city. Finally we started to hit some rural areas and could see the mountains we were going to be entering. There were lots of mountain towns which were perched high on a hill with generally a church and castle at the top and the rest of the town surrounding it. They were picturesque and JC was particularly impressed by them. This was his firt time in Italy. Our first stop was at an Autogrill which are gas stations and a store. The stores have quite a reputation for being unlike the American experience and this one did not disappoint. I had an Espresso and an ‘Americano e Latte ToGo’ which I really started to need as I was beginning to hit a wall from effectively a red-eye flight. Another interesting thing was that the urinals were placed quite high, which was noteworthy in the moment, but I would soon discover over the next two weeks that it was a rule and not an exception.

We had just finished our three-hour drive from Rome and began exploring Sulmona. This is their famous aqueduct that was on the edge of their Piazza. It would prove to be a really good beginning of our grand journey.

We continued on through the Abruzzo region through the mountainous landscape that is the Sirente-Velino Natural Park and Parco Nazionale del Gargano. After about three hours, we could see Sulmona in the distance and made our way down into the valley and into Sulmona’s Piazza Garibaldi, which is quite lovely. We arrived at roughly 4 PM. The town is surrounded by beautiful mountains which are in the Della Maiella National Park, and the city itself is at the foot of the Majella. We parked and walked around the piazza and the local shops. Sulmona is the City of Love and is known for its Confetti which is sugar-coated almonds. We stopped at an outdoor cafe called JAMM’ mo and had some drinks. The waiter gave us mountain spring water from the city aqueduct and a public fountain. He also gave us a dinner recommendation, which we walked to, but found that they did not open until 8 PM. We made a reservation.

We stopped to have drinks at essentially the first place we found called JAMM’ mo. The waiter brought a great little tray of bread and prosciutto. He was very proud of his town and made a wonderful suggestion for dinner. This was the start of quite a bit of eating and drinking for the next two weeks.

Our Airbnb, the Blue Owl wasn’t available until six and so we drove over after doing a little more walking. It was a lovely apartment hosted by Franca and Nello. We got settled in and made sure we could make it through all three locked doors to get back in. We then returned to the piazza and went to another outdoor cafe called Bar Piazza Maggiore for more drinks. The waiter insisted on a meat platter which we agreed to. It was impressively big and could have been dinner itself. We had another round of wine and did some damage on the sausage, prosciutto, cheese paninis and something that looked like small hot dogs. We went to another cafe called the Italian Bar down one of the main thoroughfares, which was across from the church. We people watched which included a of Italian men on the church steps. We surmised they must be part of the ‘almond mafia’ since that was an important local commodity. We also recognized a couple from the Budget Rent-A-Car line in Rome, which we thought was very surprising.

This was a great start to a lot of good food. We also really tested my theory that there is no hangover with Italian wine.

It was now essentially 8 PM, so we made our way to the recommended restaurant Pizzeria Ristorante Il Vecchio Muro. We had lots of wine and the meal started with a complimentary fire-roasted potato spinach appetizer which was a surprise and awesome. We then shared pasta with white pepper lemon sauce in a bowl made of cheesy pasta and a fabulous meat tray. The atmosphere was great and the restaurant really filled up by the time we left. We wanted gelato but were too full from dinner, not to mention all the gelato spots we had spotted earlier were now already closed. We made our way back to the Airbnb, managed to get back in through the three locked doors and went to bed pretty quickly as it had been a long day with little sleep the night before.

There was a really big balcony on our Airbnb with a great view of Sulmona and the mountains. When we woke up in the morning, there was a lot of sun and we enjoyed coffee as we began to get ready to continue our journey East.

Monday 4/27: We woke up at a pretty reasonable time in the morning all things considered. No hangover from the abundant amount of wine consumed the night before. My theory that Italian wine doesn’t come with hangovers continues to be supported!

We had a nice little breakfast provided by our host Franca which included bread, pastries and fruit. The coffee pod machine was a challenge and we could not seem to make it work. We ended up making coffee in a pot which worked but was not ideal. After spending some time enjoying the view and the sun on the balcony, we showered in a typically very small Italian shower, packed up and hit the road for the East Coast to see the Adriatic Sea.

The first town we went to was Termoli. The drive through the town was not particularly scenic and the town was a little rough. We did find a section that seemed more historic and tried to find parking which was challenging. We found a spot but it was “merchant only” parking, and a policeman nearby said we couldn’t park there. We looked around a little more without much luck. The portion of the town we saw was not a very scenic place, so we decided to hit the road and skip Termoli.

What we would find in a lot of these towns is that, as you drove in, there were newer sections that were not particularly interesting or attractive. However, Italy being really old, the towns all had older historic areas that were generally nice and interesting. The challenge would be getting to those spots by car. In some towns, this was easier than in others.

We had gotten our recommended wine from the owner. The red was not great. The wine order you see in this picture repeated itself throughout the trip. JC and I ordered red, and Yvonne and Mandy would get white. Ristorante Pizzeria Bistró fed us, but it was maybe our second-worst meal on this trip.

We started heading south and traveled to Lesina, which was the next coastal town on the map. It was early afternoon and we were getting hungry. We did find the older part of the town and parked. We started to walk around looking for a restaurant. Lesina was very quiet and there was hardly anyone around. It was a bit of a ‘ghost town’ and in retrospect, some towns we visited really embraced the siesta and that could have also been the issue when we were there. We were struggling to find a restaurant but traveling to the next town was going to take too long so we were determined to find something. Lesina sits on a large lagoon and has some history around this body of water. They are famous for the eel dishes apparently. We walked around looking for places we could see on Google maps. We saw a Nonna cooking down the alley which was close to a listed pizzeria. We approached and her to aks where the pizzeria was but a dog on the balcony scared us away before we could get close. We then walked towards the lagoon but still no people to be found. We saw a cafe on the lagoon called Ristorante Pizzeria Bistró. It was empty but we asked if they were open and they said yes, even though in retrospect they really were not. We ordered some wine, a salad and a couple of pizzas. The food was not great. The salad was all iceberg lettuce and fennel. The pizzas were very average and the wine was not so good despite being recommended by the owner. It filled us up which was half the battle. We presumed the town would be busier in the summer.

We left Lesina and headed to Vieste. We would look for places to stay as we headed to our final town each night. Yvonne found one called the Pizzomunno Vieste Palace Hotel which looked a bit high-end and we thought we would splurge a little. The hotel was not in the city of Vieste but down the main drag a little in a beach area, which seemed fine. We asked for their rates and it was a bit overpriced for what you were getting. We decided to move on.

We made it down to the harbor and Vieste was quite nice.

We want back toward the city and found some other hotel options. We asked for availability and pricing in a few of them and ended up staying at the Hotel La Caravelle. The price was good, the hotel was reasonably nice and they suggested there were water views from the rooms balconies. They were technically correct but you really had to lean out to see it. This was clearly a family-owned hotel. The hostess was very helpful and her two brothers drove us to the off-site parking which was not particularly close and a bit of an effort to make that all happen. We settled in, rested a little and then after getting a restaurant recommendation, headed into the ‘centro’. We walked through a bunch of alleys and down to the water. Vieste is full of alleys with stores and restaurants. We checked out the church right on the water. On the way there, I think there was church housing for kids and we heard someone being smacked by what I presume was a nun; Hail Mary! We continued exploring and I found the pergola called Bar Gelateria Maggiore at the top of the ‘Heart Stairs’ for the City of Love. We had spotted this earlier but did not want to walk up the stairs. We had some cocktails and enjoyed a good view of Vieste Harbor. We then proceeded down the ‘love’ stairs for dinner at Al Vaporetto Antipasteria Troccoleria di Mare which was recommended to us by the lady at the hotel. We ordered steak, whole sliced prawns, orchiaetta with mussels and tricolor pasta. The dinner was not very good. This was a bit disappointing and as time went on, meals at hotels were not as good as those at just regular restaurants. Al Vaporetta was close to the water with nice outside seating and a view of the chefs. We were optimistic, but in the end, I think it was mostly a tourist spot. We did have good gelato at one of the many stores selling it on our way back to the hotel.

Tuesday 4/28: We woke up the next morning and had the complimentary breakfast in the hotel. It was pretty good and the unlimited handmade coffee drinks were quite good. The La Caravelle hotel was a very acceptable experience.

We came around the tip of Vieste to get a really good view of the cliffs that the town sits on. Shortly we would see the famed 25-meter-high Pizzomunno white limestone monolith.

We had booked a boat tour the night before to see Vieste's famous coastline that spans roughly 30 kilometers. We had packed up, left our bags in the lobby and got driven in the hotel golf cart to the harbor to get on “the love boat” for a three-hour tour of the coast. Francesco was our guide and really added a nice touch to the experience. We enjoyed the scenery which included the transition from long, golden sandy Pizzomunno Beach to the many rugged cliffs, hidden natural sea grottoes, pebble coves, including Baia di Campi, Cala della Pergola and Grotte Marine.

This is the Architiello of San Felice and really representative of a lot of the shoreline we saw. They positioned the boat perfectly so we could get the castle Torre di San Felice in the middle of the natural arch.

We headed back to the hotel to check out. Our host drove us in the golf cart to get the car. Getting it out of their underground garage was quite an adventure. We got on the road heading south for our journey to Bari. We decided we would do a little driving and then look for a place for lunch. The roads were very windy and high up on the cliffs we just saw on the boat. We came up on a roadside restaurant and quickly decided to pull off and try our luck. Monte Bamone Ristorante would turn out to be very good with a beautiful cliffside view overlooking the Adriatic. We of course ordered some drinks. We spotted an old man cooking fish over an open fire so JC decided to order fish. I ordered linguine and clams, Mandy ordered sausages that looked like hot dogs and Yvonne had a caprese. We really lucked out as this checked all the boxes. The restaurant also by chance happened to be right next to the entrance of a fabulous hotel we saw from the boat called Baia delle Zagare which seems to be a place we all agreed if we were to come back, it would deserve a visit.

Our view at Monte Bamone Ristorante was awesome along with the food.

After lunch, we had about another hour of windy roads until we finally got to the flat land on our way to our destination today, Bari. We decided that this agriculturally intense area was the Iowa of Puglia, despite being very close to the ocean. We thought it would be prudent to stop for some gas. We found a gas station in the middle of nowhere which was actually called Eni Station in Cerignola Campagna. We were told by the gas attendant that they only had diesel. We decided that we would use their bathroom and took the opportunity to get some coffee. Most gas stations in Italy all have coffee bars which I think is amazing. There were a bunch of pretty scraggly men in two groups, one outside and one inside killing time and shooting the breeze. I ordered an espresso and an Americano to-go. The two baristas wanted to know where we were from. I think we stood out from their usual clientele as this location was definitely not a tourist destination. We let them know we were from America and they were very impressed by this. They asked if we had US dollars and I obliged giving them some of the singles I had. We then went outside and as we were getting in the car, the gas attendant’s Cane Corso, which was quite impressive, came up to us and we gave him a lot of attention and love. We departed and pressed on. For some reason the route we took brought us inland somewhat, and because of this, we missed Barletta and Trani which is unfortunate in retrospect.

We started to get out of the agricultural area and into the outskirts of Bari. As we drove in, Yvonne and Mandy had been looking for a place to stay. We ended up booking an Airbnb that was advertised as being within easy walking distance of the city's historic area, which is obviously where we wanted to be. The drive into Bari was a little startling as the way in is filled with areas that looked a little rough. We had encountered this before and would continue to do so during the rest of the trip and began to expect it. We ended up getting to the Airbnb called The Rooftop. Before could get access to it, we needed to get them a bunch info like passports. This proved to be quite challenging. We found the actual Airbnb around 5 PM and it would not be ready until 6 PM. We drove around some to try to get a lay of the land. We saw a pretty industrial harbor area with a giant historical fort, and several high-end hotels on the water. There was an area with high-end shopping near these hotels and it looked pretty interesting, though we never ended up going to this area. We worked our way back to the Airbnb and found a temporary parking spot to finish our reservation and finally get into the apartment. It was on the top floor and Mandy went up first to make sure we could actually get in. After we confirmed that, we wheeled in our luggage to the lobby, sent it up a very small Italian elevator and got situated. They told us we could park in a public parking lot a few blocks away. Yvonne volunteered to go with me to get the car parked. We lucked out in that we spotted a space right on the busy city street where our apartment was and we grabbed it. We then tried to pay for the parking on a public app which wouldn’t work and debated how safe our car would be. Parking was free from 8 to 8 and we figured that with all the cars, it would be highly unlikely that ours would get picked out for ticketing, or much worse, towed or stolen.

The apartment was very reasonable and clean. It had a rooftop terrace which was pretty nice and had a very interesting view of the many local buildings. JC went to a wine store right down the street and bought a bottle of red and white to bring back to the apartment. We thought we would relax and sit in the rooftop terrace and kill some time waiting for Italy’s late-ish dinner time. What was strange was that you could not buy a corkscrew and the apartment didn’t have one. We ended up opening the wine bottles with a knife. JC spilled a lot of the red wine all over the kitchen in the process.

Finally it was time to venture out into the city of Bari, and it was definitely a city. We headed for the old town by foot. As advertised, it was not far from the apartment at all. We walked down along Castello Normanno-Svevo which is a 13th-century fort. When we got to the end of that we saw the entrance into ‘old-town’. Pretty quickly we were impressed by this area and it was what we were really looking for. Bari is famous for Nonna’s handmade Orichetti in the alleyways which is a specific type of pasta. We finally found a few of them and bought a couple of bags. We enjoyed watching them make it. As we were wandering around we walked into a piazza with a bunch of restaurants on the edges. One in the corner had a bunch of outside seating and they had the whole crowd singing. We watched this for a little while as it was pretty fun. We then heard the sound of church bells and walked toward it. We ran into the Basilica of St Nicholas which was built for this saint in the 11th century for the original Santa Claus. As we walked around we found another piazza for the church where they were having this big ceremony for St. Nicholas. Our timing was quite lucky and this was quite the sight. There was a big crowd of people, a band and a delegation of the church led by the father addressing the crowd. Behind him was the statue of St. Nicholas which had been carried out of the church by a bunch of parishioners. They then turned around and the procession went back into the church with the statue to do a mass. We continued to watch for a while. It was quite the spectacle.

This was our table in the alleyway at Cucina Carletto. They brought the pre-determined five-piece meal that we ate family-style. The items were a little surprising but were fantastic. This was one of our best meals with good drinks.

It was now time to find a place to eat. We wandered around for a while and finally found a little restaurant called Cucina Carletto that was in one of many tight alleys in the part of the old town. There was outside and inside seating. While we were waiting for a an outside seat, a kid on a bike was nearly run over by a guy on a motorcycle. The traffic in the old town was very curious with pedestrians dodging bikes and mopeds. We also witnessed a young shirtless boy arrive at the restaurant looking for something to drink and was given a Coke by the waitress to then scurry away to wherever he came from. We finally got a table outside and there were only about five available. The waitress was less than thrilled when we figured out it was a bit late for them. She definitely wanted to go home. The proprietor was an older man and I suspect the waitress’s father. He was great and definitely was going to take care of us. We selected a family-style meal with five parts to it that we would all share. He brought out these old carafes of red and white wine which was very good. The old man brought out eggplant, buffalo mozzarella, sun-dried tomatoes and a big tray of pasta and meat sauce. We really enjoyed this meal! We left and walked around a bit and started to head back in the direction of our Airbnb. We ran into this great bakery and gelato store called Gelateria Gentile which was very popular. We bought pastries for the next morning’s breakfast. I got a very good gelato. We walked back to the apartment and drank some more wine on the rooftop terrace. We had more great conversations and finally went to bed.

Wednesday 4/29: We all woke up at a reasonable hour somewhat motivated by our understanding that car ticketing started at 8 AM. We all showered in the one bathroom, packed up and headed out. I brought the car closer to the front door and we actually were able to park right there. I wanted a coffee before we departed and went to a cafe up the street on the next corner that allowed me to pee the prior evening as we were waiting to get into the Airbnb. It was a good ‘modern’ Bari city experience.

We got back in the car and headed south towards Polignano a Mare. Yvnonne’s friend Nick had sent her a link to a hotel called Grotta Palazzese and there is an amazing restaurant in a cave at sea level looking out on the Adriatic. We arrived and found a parking lot which turned out to be south of the old city. We checked that out for a little bit but then decided to drive and park closer to the old city. We worked our way through classic Italian narrow streets and found a spot that we thought was pretty good and close to the Grotta Palazzese Hotel. Across the alley from our parking space was a very old lady hanging out her window doing what I call Italian security. She thought we needed to move our car closer to the one in front of us and so we did.

This is a view of the many options in the old city to see the Adriatic in Polignano a Mare. The cliffs are probably 40 to 60 feet above the water. It is stunning. The Grotta Palazzese Hotel was right around the corner and we could see the famed ristorante from the railing to the right.

We headed towards the Adriatic to try to get some views and there were several options that we found easily. Walking through the alleys of Polignano a Mare was very picturesque. We decided to track down the Grotta Palazzese Hotel and see if we could wrangle a lunch reservation at the famous grotto restaurant. We did find it and there was a security guy at the entrance. We asked him about getting a reservation and he said you had to do it online. The entrance was close to a sea wall and view, so there was a fair amount of pedestrian traffic and distractions. We milled around a bit and then came back. I waited until the security guy was distracted and bolted for the door to see if I could get down to the restaurant and at least see it, and maybe wrangle a reservation in person. I made it in but missed the correct stairwell down to the restaurant, and this delay allowed the security guy to track me down and tell me to get out: I was shoo-shoo’d away Italian style.

We decided we would get a coffee and pastries and landed at a nice outdoor cafe called Sporcamus Bakery. We then continued to explore and found our way to Lama Monachile which is the visual highlight. We spent a good amount of time soaking in the beauty and activity. We then decided to walk to the other side of Lama Monachile. We could see an interesting long cliff walk we wanted to check out and maybe find a lunch option with a great view. We found a nice hotel and restaurant, but they were not open. We bumped into a Chicago couple who told us about a hotel in Matera which was a potential spot to stay at in the next few days; it turned out to be not available. We returned to the other side of Lama Monachile. There was a great rooftop terrace at a restaurant called Acquamarea right next to the picture we took below. The view was great as was the wine. Lots of fish options which is a problem for the ladies. The food ended up being very acceptable. Polignano a Mare was only a point of intrigue on our itinerary and it turned out to be one of the best places on this trip. It would be a place I would return to for a couple of days.

This is Lama Monachile which is the most photographed part of Polignano a Mare. It was pretty amazing and lives up to the hype. I would have really liked to go down and swim but I started to catch a cold and couldn’t muster up the energy to do it. My loss.

We returned to the car to head to Monopoli. Our old lady security guard was no longer at her post: it must have been her siesta time. We arrived at the outskirts of Monopoli and the rugged experience we had earlier in other cities was true for Monopoli. We had put in the hotel I identified on the itinerary into the navigation and had a few directional misses. We then found the entrance to the old city. We saw the ZTL signs which mean you really shouldn’t drive in. There was a narrow alley that we thought we should head down, but there were cars coming out. We tried another alley and the car did not like this and when things got really tight, the car auto-braked really hard a couple of times. It was very startling, and everyone else was thrown off by this and thought we should move on. I thought we should try harder but got outvoted and so we got out of Monopoli and started to head south. l took a quick look at the map and there appeared to be long beaches just a little south with big hotels and so I thought this might be a good alternative to the hotel in the heart of old town Monopoli. We checked it out and it was okay but they were closed for the season. In retrospect, I think we missed out by not staying in Monopoli, as I have seen a number of videos showing how nice it is.

After we settled into our L’Angola Ostuni Airbnb, we explored the streets of Ostuni armed with many recommendations from our super host Massimo.

We decided to move on to Ostuni which was going to be part of a day trip the following day. This turned out to be a very good decision! Yvonne hopped on Airbnb and the first recommendation was a listing called the L’Angola Ostuni. We decided to pull the trigger. The host Massimo responded almost immediately and said he would meet us after he stopped at the laundry for fresh towels. We could see the white city on the hill which was pretty spectacular. Before we knew it, we were working our way up to the city and heading to our new home on 81 Corso Giuseppe Garibaldi. We found the location, although we were a bit unsure if it was right. We found a parking spot relatively close on this narrow street and saw Massimo waiting for us with fresh towels and a bottle of cold white wine. Massimo opened a narrow door which was the entrance to reveal the steepest set of stairs I have ever seen. The home was two stories and the stairs were effectively a ladder. That being said, the place was very nice and Massimo showed off this beautifully restored apartment. He told us he was studying to be an engineer and did all the renovation work himself. The Corrigans defaulted to the lower bedroom because of Yvonne’s giant purple suitcase. Mandy and I took the loft at the top which was also the living room. This stay had the best bathrooms of our trip. As Massimo left, he said he would offer us an extra night at half the price if we paid him directly. We thought about it for a little while and decided to take him up on his offer.

This was on the patio of the La Sommità Relais Hotel which we spotted and decided to explore. What a find! Maybe the best view in Ostuni not to mention great drinks and service.

Massimo proceeded to give us numerous recommendations for dinner and cocktails with a view. Before going out, JC stopped into the mercato a few steps away from our Airbnb and picked up a couple of bottles of wine. He spotted a very local social club in a back room and we wondered what really goes on in there. We then proceeded to walk down the hill to the piazza and head towards the church we saw from our rooftop terrace which seemed to be the high point of the city. We found our way to Massimo’s first recommendation for drinks with a view. The place with a view had no availability and so we moved on and wandered around a bit. We stumbled upon a nightclub called Ricardo’s which was quite nice and a bit unexpected for me. It seemed incongruent to have a nightclub in a very old historic city. We came upon a small cafe/bar called Bar Perso with a very interesting feature of beanbag chairs in an alley with a nice view. We had a cocktail on beanbag chairs and chopped it up with some locals. We moved on and decided to climb up to discover a beautiful hotel called La Sommità Relais. I asked if they had a bar and they offered up a terrace with the most amazing view of the agricultural land below Ostuni and all the way to the Adriatic. This was considerably better than Massimo’s recommendation. We had a round of drinks on the patio and watched an amazing sunset. We then moved into a nice room for a second round of drinks. We met a couple from Baltimore on their honeymoon and had a lovely conversation with them. We finally moved on and tracked down a restaurant we had spotted earlier which appeared to be in a cave. Osteria del Tempo Perso looked very nice and had a table. The atmosphere was great and this made up for our miss earlier in the day in Polignano a Mare. The meal was quite good highlighted by JC’s Octopus order. We also met an American man who was a former professional volleyball player. We left and wandered home. There in the living room, we had a long conversation about how each of us met our significant others and our many adventures in San Francisco all fueled by the wine JC had gotten earlier.

Our resident red wine sommelier JC gives the offering from Osteria del Tempo Perso in a cave a test. Very good!

Thursday 4/30: We woke up the next morning in pretty good shape. My theory of no hangover with Italian wine was still holding true. Unfortunately, I had caught a cold and this was the peak of my sickness. Mercifully I was able to press on but not at peak powers. JC would catch it a few days later as I was hacking on my co-pilot in the car for hours every day. Up until this point, the weather had been perfect but today was going to be rainy. Our plan was to take a day trip to Lecce and the southernmost end of the heel: probably Gallipoli. Mandy and I were a bit ahead of JC and Yvonne from a schedule perspective so we wandered around a little in Ostuni along with coffee and pastries at Caffè Trieste in the piazza.

There was seemingly an infinite number of alleys and things to do in Ostuni. Mandy and I wandered around in the morning exploring and killing some time.

We were all ready and got in the car and made our way to Lecce. JC saw an archaeological museum he wanted to visit so we checked that out. It was quite interesting with all sorts of crazy ‘rooms’ dug into rock and earth many years prior. We had worked up a little bit of an appetite and we wandered around a bit and found a nice restaurant called Osteria 203. It took a little effort and some luck to wrangle a table. A little wine and more good Italian food. We departed and Yvonne fell out of her chair on the way out.

We then found more destinations and walked to Palazzo del Seggio o Sedile which had a number of things to look at like an old preserved colosseum or amphitheater type structure: I believe it is Le Camere dell'Anfiteatro. There was a great church so we of course peeked our heads in there as well. There was also a big sculpture behind glass which we could not figure out who they were recognizing but he clearly was important: Saint fill-in-the-blank. We continued to walk the alleys of Lecce. We found an area that mixed high-end stores in the historic section of the city. We were thinking we were heading back to the car, but we had overshot it by a bunch. At long last we found the main road we had parked on and walked back towards the car.

We found a nod to my wife’s maiden name in Lecce.

We got on the road to head south to Gallipoli which was made famous in the First World War, I believe the Trojan horse, the Ionian Sea and the westernmost point of Italy’s heel. We worked through the newer part of the town to the old town which I think is technically an island. We found some parking in the harbor area. There was definitely real fishing and other seafaring activities going on here. Yvonne and I needed to use a bathroom and there was a cafe in this industrial harbor area which seemed a little strange but we got some coffee in exchange for use of their bathroom. That hit the spot but Yvonne said she would buy it and then proceeded to walk out without paying. The proprietor tracked us down and we paid. It was raining off and on, but not too hard. We proceeded to the centro after a stop at the ‘pharmacia’ to get cough drops. We then went to the Olive Oil Press Museum. Apparently in Gallipoli there were approximately two thousand of these operations. They were dug underground and the whole thing was enlightening and very curious. We then saw this nativity exhibit where you walk through and it recreates the nativity scene. This was quite interesting: it was like a ‘Small World’ at Disney only for Jesus. It started to rain and there was a gentleman outside a bar that waived us in and we took him up on his offer which was good since it started to pour shortly after. I don’t recall the name of it but it was very interesting with horse carriages and an open atrium area. The cocktails and conversation were good. The rain let up and we then walked to the most western point of Gallipoli and checked out the Ionian Sea. We proceeded to walk around the entire seawall and back to the car. We got another coffee on the way out of Gallipoli at the cafe we went to earlier. And use their facilities! We got in the car and returned to Ostuni. I wish we were able to spend a little more time in the heel but this trip worked.

Getting the lay of the land as we planned our walk through Gallipoli.

Upon our return to Ostuni, we tried to find a parking spot near our Airbnb and there was nothing. There was a park close by and we found a spot there. This sort of allowed us to see that there was a whole other side of Ostuni that we had not gone to. We returned to our Airbnb and drank some of our ‘house wine’. We then left and walked around looking for a dinner spot based on Massimo’s recommendations. We struck out a few times as these higher-end restaurants wanted reservations, but we had not made any. We ended up eating at Hosteria Pizzeria Regina which had a nice atmosphere and the food was good. We talked about the best movies and shows that night which was an interesting conversation. I had a gelato on the way home. A little more wine at home and we went to bed.

We really enjoyed coffee and pastries at Caffè Trieste in the Ostuni Piazza.

Friday 5/1: Woke up in Ostuni and got ready to leave. I went to get the car at the park and initially I couldn’t find it. I hadn’t walked far enough but had a big oh-oh moment thinking the car was gone. I was able to find a spot relatively close to the house and we packed the car up and were ready to leave. I had spotted a small farmer’s market getting the car so we went and checked that out first and then returned to Caffè Trieste in the piazza for coffee and pastries. We people watched and there was some sort of entertainment being set up. Now that we were fed and caffeinated, we headed back to the car for our trip to Alberobello and the Trulli houses.

We made our way to Alberobello on a pleasant drive through the countryside. As we got to Alberobello, the traffic picked up considerably and it quickly became clear that everyone was there to see the Trulli houses. We worked our way as close to the start of the walk as possible to find a pay-for-parking area in a tired-looking olive orchard. The proprietor was a very intimidating man who felt as though he should be a part of Hell’s Angels in the States. He was a no-joke tough guy made clear by his cauliflowered ears. Don’t judge a book by its cover as he turned out to be quite delightful.

We were working our way up through the many Trulli Houses. This area is a UNESCO World Heritage site.

We started walking towards the Trulli houses, which were packed with a lot of people. We were oblivious that today was the beginning of a three-day May Day holiday. The basic story on these unique dwellings is that the local people would build their houses with ‘loose’ stones to avoid being taxed by the government. They would disassemble the houses leaving nothing to tax before the tax man would come around. As we were wandering around, I saw a rooftop deck that I was certain would have great views of the area. We tried to get up there but the viewing deck was above a store and you had to buy something to get entrance. So we bought tchotchkes and went up. It was worth the price of admission. We continued to wander around the Trulli houses and relatively quickly decided that we had the experience and proceeded back to the car to get out of all the people.

This was one of the views from the pay-to-play viewing deck. We had someone take a picture of all of us and try to get the houses in the picture and the results were not great. This one of Mandy turned out to be the best one.

We got on the road and decided to stop for lunch in a town called Puntignano. This was your typical town on a hill and was a small to medium-sized. We found a good parking space before the ZTL area which was right next to a public bathroom which was a plus as well. Things were very quiet which I suspect was some combination of siesta time and the holiday we just discovered. We walked toward the centro and quickly came across a group of Gen Z’ers partying it up at a bar and in the sun for what was a cool-ish day. We decided we wouldn’t raise the average age at this Gen Z’er party. Shortly after we came upon the Piazza Plebiscito which looked interesting. There was a church on one side, and on the other side there was a bunch of tables outside in front of a ristorante called Grieco - I think. As stated earlier it was a bit cool and windy so we went inside to a small room with about four tables. We met our waiter Massimo who encouraged us to come in as we were debating what to do. We took him up on his offer and went in. We decided to call him Massimo II and immediately liked him. He had great suggestions on everything. He told us his life story and was well-versed in all things food and wine with a worldly history to support his recommendations. We ended up having a great meal and the wine recommendations were awesome. His mother has a small olive oil farm and he gave us a can of his family’s olive oil. We became fast friends.

A picture of our new best friend Massio II after our great meal and conversation. You will also see the can of his family’s olive oil he gave us. We have subsequently ordered more because it was so good!

During lunch, we indicated we wanted to visit a winery and Massimo recommended a few. The one he really pushed was run by three sisters but it was in the wrong direction and too far away. We proceeded on a beautiful drive to one of Massimo’s other recommendations called Tenute Girolamo Winery. Massimo called the owner to let him know we were coming. Our timing was pretty perfect as they were just starting a tour. This was done by a young man who really knew his stuff and gave us a complete overview of the entire process. The highlight was down in the basement which was quite large and deep where they processed the wine and then below that, put it in lots of barrels for aging.

The underground aging room was very impressive, cool and damp.

After the tour we went to their tasting room and ended up tasting I believe nine different wines. It was a lot. Mandy hit her drinking limit about halfway through and JC started drinking her wine in addition to his. He would consume a lot of wine this day and absolutely tested the limits of my no-hangover theory for Italian wine. We were here until about 5 PM and we needed to start thinking about a place to stay.

We started tasting a whole bunch of wine after the tour. This was the beginning of a long day of drinking for JC in particular. By the end of the night, he was in rare form!

I had booked an Airbnb called Corte Lirice Paradiso through Booking.com in a town called Gioia del Colle. We drove into town following the GPS which was going to take us right to the Airbnb. We entered the old part of the town which means a lot of narrow alleys. We got to one point where there was a very subtle and quick left and right which was quite narrow. I got pretty good at working our way through narrow spots, but this was too narrow. The car literally got wedged between the two walls. I was convinced we could get through. JC got out to guide me and Mandy and Yvonne were in the back peppering me with suggestions. There was an old man who walked by shaking his head. Then there was a younger man who showed up and was willing to help us but his basic recommendation was to back up and not go forward. I really thought we could get through and how else are we going to get to the Airbnb? However it became obvious we were not going to make it through and so we backed out, which was not easy considering the wedge issue we found ourselves in. After some considerable effort, we got the car unwedged and were able to turn around after about a 40-point turn. This may have been the highlight and lowlight all at once, and probably the most memorable part of the trip.

We were able to find a parking space on one of the larger streets pretty close to the Airbnb but it required some walking. The Airbnb was not on a street but in a side alley and there was also some construction going on in the piazza that would have provided easier access. We finally found the Corte Lirice Paradiso Airbnb. We were provided a code to open the lock box but it didn’t work. I tried calling Booking.com, messaging them, calling the Airbnb directly but we couldn’t get a hold of anyone as it was later in the evening. We tried the code again and again, and it just would not work. We tried and tried and waited and waited, and nothing. Mandy and Yvonne had to pee so they went to a pizzeria/restaurant a couple of blocks away. Mandy and Yvonne started asking the girls in the pizza place called La Vecchia Gioia where we could go. Their recommendation was the Svevo Hotel. So we made our way there and unfortunately it ended up being a bust because there was an entire football (soccer) team that had taken all the rooms. The young man at the front desk arranged for us to go to a hotel in the next town San Basilio. We got back in the car and headed to Hotel Cecere. We were greeted by a gentleman at the front desk who looked a lot like Kramer from Seinfeld. We apparently got the last two rooms in the hotel. These rooms were quite large and they had these extremely large patios with nothing on them. We settled in and went down to the lobby where Kramer greeted us with complimentary wine. At this point, JC was feeling no pain from the two gallons of wine he had at the winery. We finished our wine and headed to a restaurant called La Finestra sul Cielo recommended by Karmer in Mottola. It was more modern than anything we had been to previously. We sat down and it took a while to get served. The food was alright. There was a good view because Mottola sits on a hill which most towns in Italy do. On the way out JC had a funny fall where he was walking behind us one moment and then had fallen behind a car and seemingly disappeared. We made it back to the hotel and put JC to sleep!

Saturday 5/2: We all got up at a reasonable hour which was impressive for JC. They had a breakfast and coffee bar downstairs which was surprisingly impressive. We also noticed the hotel had a very large wedding ballroom that was quite dated but pretty impressive nonetheless. They must have hosted every event in the area. We said our good-byes to Kramer, packed up and headed out.

This vantage point greeted us as we got to the old part of Matera The whole thing was very impressive. The old part of the city sits in a hole and as we walked around we learned more about the colorful history of the third-oldest city in the world.

Today’s destination was Matera. To get there we drove through beautiful rolling hills and countryside. We worked our way into the town and this too seemed busy so we found a parking spot and took it. Turns out we should have gone further as we had parked a bit too far from the old city. After our long walk, we finally made it to the main attraction. Matera visually lived up to the hype and definitely felt like the third-oldest city in the world. From our initial view of the city we could see the Cathedral Basilica on the other side and decided we would walk around the top right edge of the city to the cathedral. It was stunning and at least on this side, the modern city had crept right to the edge of the old city. We went down a little into the old portion of the city and walked the alleys. We spotted a very interesting restaurant that was dug into the stone and essentially in a cave. I decided we should try to come back to that if we could.

This was the most ornate church we saw on our trip and we saw a lot of churches. I found it interesting that given Matera’s history of extreme poverty, its church was so magnificent.

We finally made it to the Cathedral Basilica which had a museum as well so we decided to check it out. We generally poked our heads into every church to check them out, but this one was particularly stunning. The history was impressive particularly because of the age of the city. We spent a decent amount of time in both the museum and the actual church which were quite interesting in different ways.

After finishing the church and museum, we debated if we should work our way down into the bottom of ‘the hole’ that is Matera but opted to enjoy the view from the top. Instead, we decided to work our way back to the restaurant we saw earlier for lunch. More wine and another great meal with very unique atmosphere that is an underground cave: even though we had sort of done it already in Ostuni.

The whole restaurant was dug deep into Mater rock creating a cave environment. There was a very large dining room at the bottom that was quite deep. We had a good meal and it was a memorable stop even though it was our second meal in a cave.

We had a long walk back to the car because of our earlier parking mistake. I had paid particular attention to the way we got there so we could find our way back. However, we pretty quickly hit territory that I did not recognize. We found ourselves on the main drag and I was pretty certain that if we stayed on it we would find the car. However as time went on, we thought we were one block off and mercifully we were correct and located the car which was a relief.

We got on the road and headed for Potenza. The rolling hills and mountains were beautiful as we made our way west toward the Mediterranean. We stopped for gas and I had hoped they had a coffee bar like every other gas station in Italy, but no. They did have a bathroom which was a good consolation prize. Yvonne and Mandy started to look for a place to stay. Pretty quickly they found an interesting listing which was a two-bedroom, two-bath Airbnb in the next town over called Pignola. We decided to pull the trigger and Marco the host was helpful with various details. Pignola is a beautiful small ski village next to Potenza. We drove by Potenza and took the next exit after and started driving up some windy roads and we were really gaining some altitude. We were getting close and went up a very steep street. When we arrived at the address, we went to turn into the driveway and I thought the car was going to roll over. There was a gate and two houses that were not looking great. We messaged Marco and he said his parents were looking out of their balcony and couldn’t see us. We finally figured out we were on the wrong street. With a little effort, we found the right address.

We were checking out the balcony with Marco’s dad. There was a great view out over the valley with mountains in the distance covered with windmills.

We were greeted by Marco’s dad who showed us to our apartment. This was a three-story house with a garage and storage on the first floor, Marco’s parents lived on the second floor and we stayed on the top floor. The home was quaint and they had a washer and dryer which we took advantage of. Marco’s Mom gave us an overview of everything we would need including a detailed how-to on another espresso machine. There was a koi pond in the back with a pretty sizeable patio. We got settled in and then poured some wine from the winery we visited yesterday. There was a sitting area out in front of the house with a fantastic view over the valley. Katy called Yvonne and we all had a long fun FaceTime session with her.

Le Fiamme was a very local restaurant recommended by Marco. This was the charcuterie board recommended by the owner. It was a lot of food and quite good. This was the beginning of a large meal.

Marco made us a reservation for dinner at 8 PM at Le Fiamme which was a local family-style restaurant. We showed up right on time after accidentally parking in the employee lot which made the entrance a bit concerning. When we got inside it was really nice. They took us upstairs which was a really big room that was a little bit austere. We were the only ones up there. The owner came up to greet us which was really nice. He suggested a bunch of things and we got a little swept up in his enthusiasm. After he left we realized we ordered too much. The wine came and then a huge charcuterie board showed up. There were a bunch of different things and we tested them all. It was all quite good! It became obvious that we could have just ordered that but we had ordered much more. The rest of the meal showed up which included a huge amount of ribs for Mandy. Yvonne had pistachio pasta and JC and I split a big meat tray and a pasta ravioli with cod! It was all really good but way too much. As we went down to pay, we decided to have some after-dinner drinks. We had a great conversation with the bar staff. There was a young man who greeted us early in our meal and liked that we spoke English. We saw 18-year-old Valentino again and we encouraged him to visit us in the States. It was a great deal of fun. After one last after-dinner drink, we went back to the house, finished our laundry and spent a bunch of time debating which bands were the best and showing each other what we each thought were amazing performances on YouTube. Yvonne had the craziest notion that the Eagles were the best American rock band!

Sunday 5/3: We woke up and started to get ready. Despite the detailed training on the coffee maker, we couldn’t make this one work either. JC was starting to feel bad after finally getting my cold. We lugged our luggage down and packed up the car. We said our good-byes to Marco’s parents.

We found a nice little coffee shop in Potenza. We were enjoying the sun and listening to the locals chat and greet each other. They also had Halls cough drops, which we bought a bunch of for JC and my colds.

Since I thought we were going to stay in Potenza for the night, and it looked pretty interesting as we drove by the day before, I suggested that we should go get some coffee and drugs for JC. Potenza like most cities in Italy was perched on a hill. We worked our way to the top and found a good parking spot. We had spotted a coffee shop right before we parked and so we headed there. This was a very small shop called Bar Caffeteria Vittoria. We ordered our customary Americanos and Cappuccinos, which were good but all their pastries were gone. There were a bunch of locals and we enjoyed watching the post-church activities of the town. There was a gentleman who understood English but he had not disclosed this until the end so hopefully we didn’t say anything stupid. Mandy really didn’t understand his Italian and he would later convey that he speaks a Naples dialect. We walked around the town a little and then got on our way to Salerno and the Mediterranean.

The coast and harbor area of Salerno was picturesque and impressive. We walked up and down the ‘promenade’ checking the city our and trying to get our bearings.

We worked our way into the city and got to the coast. We drove around a little to get the lay of the land and finally parked in a public parking lot right on the water. There was a long walkway and an ‘avenue’ right on the water. We decided we would walk down it and then move into the city to find a hotel. We wandered around quite a bit trying a bunch of options without much luck. I had seen a somewhat modern hotel when we drove in called the Grand Salerno which was just south of the old part of the city. Despite my earlier bad experience with Booking.com, I thought I would roll the dice again and try to get a reservation through them for the Grand Salerno as their pricing was quite good. We pulled the trigger and went back to the car to check in. Getting out of the public parking lot was a little tricky but we found our way to the hotel. We were instructed to park in the garage below and after doing so, finally got checked in. The hotel was very acceptable but it had clearly peaked sometime late in the last century. We decided we would nap a little before venturing out.

We started to walk towards the old part of Salerno and stopped at this open bar on the waterfront called Madegra. Interestingly enough, this is the first place we paid a tip for a meal or drinks.

We started walking North towards the old section of Salerno from our hotel down the promenade which had lots of restaurants on one side and the harbor and Mediterranean on the other. There was a nice outside bar about halfway down so we stopped to have some drinks. Today was our day to have a long chat with our daughter and so we FaceTimed with Sara while having drinks at Madegra. This restaurant was our first tipping experience meaning they asked for a tip and we hadn’t had that happen previously. I believe this was an indication that we were in a more touristy area than we had been in previously. We left and worked our way to the older section of the town which meant moving inland some. There was a great pedestrian promenade called Corso Vittorio Emanuele. We happened on a Renaissance performance which had a lot of people dressed up in historical costumes performing music and dancing. We moved on and checked out another large church which was not far away from the performances. When we were done checking it out, the celebration came to the church and so we watched a little bit more. We then moved on and started walking through the many tight alleys of Salerno and found this ‘hole in the wall’ wine bar with great prosciutto called Dolci Ricordi. We got a little table on the street and enjoyed the offering. While we were there, a gentleman sat at the table next to us who turned out to be a Norwegian mathematician. Shortly thereafter, a lady and her dog grabbed a table. She was a biologist now living in Rome and visiting her parents in Salerno. We all started talking and they seemed to hit it off. When we left, we wondered if a connection had been made.

The ‘local’ lady made a restaurant recommendation called Cici Rinella. She gave us the owner’s name and told us to ask for him. We did and were welcomed with open arms. This restaurant was sort of a cave as well. We met a bunch of other people in there one of whom was an American couple, Renee and her husband Bob. They were from upstate NY and Florida. The restaurant was good but not amazing. We left and took a leisurely walk back through the promenade, people watching and looking at the many stores and restaurants. We did stop for gelato and dessert cocktails at bakery and gelato cafe with outside tables. While we were eating, these really young African kids were trying to sell necklaces and other tchotchkes. We just gave them money. We walked back to the Grand Salerno and called it a night.

Monday 5/4: We woke up and went downstairs to the free breakfast at the Grand. It was a decent offering in a very big room but the whole thing was a blast from the past. We got packed up, checked out and made our way down to the garage to venture to the Amalfi coast.

This was right off the main dag looking into Maoiri. We really liked this town and had one of our best lunches.

Getting out of Salerno was pretty easy and we quite quickly entered the narrow, windy roads that would be our experience for the next few days. Our first stop was the coastal town of Maiori. The trip here was visually amazing and very exciting from a driving experience. Yvonne has a friend in Sarasota named Masood who had a house in Maiori for quite a while and had provided Yvonne with lots of travel advice prior to the trip. We found a parking spot right on the main drag and grabbed it. We walked around the water area and then headed inland up the main boulevard. This was a really nice little town full of shops and restaurants. We stopped in the local church as we did in every town and there was a great garden with these deep pools full of fish, which was quite impressive and a bit surprising. It was getting close to lunch so we stopped at a deli called La Tramontina. We ate at their outside tables. Mandy ordered a focaccia sandwich with prosciutto and mortadella, JC ordered lasagna and Yvonne got a huge bruschetta. This lunch was really good and supported my theory that the best food was in the little establishments. We returned to the car and continued with the goal of getting to Ravello.

One of the stores in Maoiri just sold pork and it was out for inspection! Give me the prosciutto!

We almost missed the turn to Ravello. There was a split that came real quick and I froze a bit but at the very last minute went up the right way to Ravello. We climbed and climbed up a very twisty road. This was our first introduction to one-way roads. We got to the top and there were two choices and I opted to go through a tunnel as it seemed that would take us higher, and being high is good when traveling in Italy. This brought us to a dead end which was full of vehicles. Trying to turn around was a challenge. I then proceeded down the way we came but this was going the wrong way on a one-way raod. We were told in Italian that we were idiots. I managed to back up and go the right way. We went back through the tunnel and I parked right on the other side of it where the other turn was. The parking spot was on the side of the road and marginally legal, but my thought was we should walk up particularly after the car struggle we just had. There was a gentleman helping with traffic that I had walked over to ask if he thought my parking spot was okay. He said there were seven more spaces up above. We scrambled back to the car while four cars went by and motored to the promised parking. Sure enough, there was a public parking. We got our space but it was super tight.

This is the Piazza Centrale in Ravello which was quite the revelation as we walked up some stairs and were greeted by the very picturesque public square. This was just the beginning of our love for Ravello.

Our plan was to check out Ravello and pursue an Airbnb we had seen in Furore that touted great views and a hot tub. We had an issue with a car on the other side of the parking and we let them out and then reparked. While all this was going on, Mandy and Yvonne noticed a hotel right near the public parking. They walked around looking for someone to talk to and found the cleaning lady. She told us ‘uno momento’ and our new friend Pietro arrived within minutes on his Vespa. He was very welcoming and gave us two rooms at a great rate at Il Ducato Di Ravello. One room had a really great view that JC and Yvonne got. The room we had was quite nice as well, and these were some of the best rooms we had to date. There were two little dogs that roamed around and provided ‘security’. They were both in kind of rough shape but very friendly. We settled in and relaxed a little bit and then walked up the stairs to the Piazza Centrale and wow! We were amazed at the beauty of it!

This was our perfect table at the Hotel Rufalo. This would be a nice place to stay if I came back.

We walked across the piazza and saw the Hotel Rufalo which was really nice so we checked it out. There was a great patio that overlooked the Mediterranean. The view was amazing and there were plenty of tables. They gave, we asked for, the perfect table in the corner with a view that could stop time! We had cocktails and drinks there. Honestly I could have stayed there all day. During our drinks, we noticed a tower and we could see people on top. It turned out to be the Fondazione Ravello. So we headed over to check it out and it was a museum with a bunch of history and of course the view at the top of the tower. We checked everything out and climbed to the top. On the way up, there were a bunch of displays and the stairway up through the tower was steel and glass which was a nice aesthetic. The top was more of the great view we had already seen, just a little higher and quite impressive. After we went to a beautiful garden. We saw a bride and groom and realized this has got to be the prettiest place to have a wedding.

I found my perfect store in Ravello!

We continued to explore and ended up at the Hotel Giordano which looked nice. Down some stairs we spotted a pool and bar so we headed there. This was a nice setting. Our waiter was Tomosso and we became fast friends. He was showering us with pleasantries including JC looking like Sean Connery. At the end we asked for a dinner recommendation and Tomosso suggested to Hotel Maria which was a sister hotel. We would take his advice, but headed back to our rooms first at Il Ducato Di Ravello. We got some wine we still had from the winery and other acquisitions along the way. JC and Yvonne’s room had a ‘vista veranda’ perched up high with a terrific view of the parking lot. We spent some time there before heading out to dinner.

Our new friend Tommoso at the Hotel Giordano.

We worked our way to Hotel Maria. It was a very nice establishment. They had great outdoor dining with a great view looking north with the Mediterranean in view. There was a row of tables right on the edge but they were all taken so we got the next row over. The prices here were definitely a notch higher than what we typically had seen thus far. Welcome to Amalfi! We struggled a little with the menu but ended up with a good, but not great meal and some really good wine. All in all, it was a very nice experience. We took a leisurely walk back to the Il Ducato and went to bed.

Tuesday 5/5: We woke up at Pietro’s place to a very early farmer’s market setup at a crazy hour. The two ‘guard’ dogs were doing their job by barking quite a bit as well. Pietro served us a delicious breakfast with “the best coffee in all of Italy.” He told us about the celebrity weddings that had taken place in Ravello, including John Legend and Usher! After breakfast, we separately returned to the Piazza Centrale and checked out the eastern end of the town which we had not visited the day before. We returned to the Il Ducato and Pietro pulled our car out of their private parking which was just a grass patch below the public parking. He got us out of the public parking for free and we were on to Positano!

Holy cow! The trip into Positano was even more exciting from a driving perspective. It was certainly a test of nerves with endless tight squeezes! We drove by two young men in a bad scooter accident. As we closed in on Positano, there was a turn we needed to make to head into Positano that we missed. We continued on that road for a while and then there was a fork which allowed for a pretty daring U-turn that allowed us to head back and make the correct turn into Positano. We made our way down to the Hotel La Bougainville where we had a reservation for the next three days. When we planned this trip, we only made two hotel reservations: Salmona and Positano. There was a private parking lot right across the street which was very easy and pretty reasonable from a price perspective. One complaint I see about Positano is the work to get your luggage to wherever you are staying and this was quite easy for us.

Positano was/is a feast for the eyes! And a bustling Disney World of sorts! We could only imagine what it was like in the summer. We walked up the stairs to the hotel lobby and finally got to meet Salvatore who had helped out Yvonne quite a bit with her booking a couple of months earlier. Salvatore arranged for our luggage to go up their elevator from the street level to our rooms. Mandy and I got a room with a balcony and a view, whereas JC and Yvonne’s room was not as nice. This is why I defaulted to the lesser rooms for a few of our previous stays.

This was our view at the Rada Beach Ristorante and was perfect place to kick off our next few days in Positano.

Positano loves lemons and we were greeted with at least a couple of stores right outside of our hotel that had every possible version of lemon-themed housewares and clothing. It became clear that Positano is very touristy! We had lunch a few doors down from the hotel at a restaurant called Ohima Brasserie. We had a very nice meal and were now primed to explore. Right by the hotel is the main walking thoroughfare to the beach which we headed down. We touched the Mediterranean for the first time. I saw a restaurant at the very end of the beach and thought we should check it out. The establishment was called the Rada Beach Ristorante. There were two couples talking to the hostess and it was clear they were going to be there for a while. I just walked past and headed up to a terrace I could see from below figuring they must be serving drinks with a great view. Sure enough, I was right. We got a great seat and ordered. The two couples showed up a little biut after us as well and we had a conversation with the ‘annoying’ dog lady and the rest of their crew. We would bump into them a few times in the next couple of days. As we were enjoying the view, we saw at least one marriage proposal on a boat and people in boats taking ‘couples’ pictures. It was quite entertaining. Young love!

This was our table at Da Vinzenzo the first night in Positano. The location, view and food was excellent. Maybe our best meal in Positano.

We received a dinner recommendation of Da Vincenzo from our new friends from the Rada. After checking out the beach and the harbor, we decided we would make our way to Da Vincenzo. This required climbing A LOT of stairs, which we knew coming into Positano that you are either ascending or descending. We finally found it and we were able to get a nice table right on the road with a great view. The local traffic goes right by you on this one-way street. The whole thing was awesome and it ended up being maybe our best meal in Positano. Our waiter was the son of the proprietor and the whole thing was owned by the Rafaella family. I forgot his name but he was great and passed on a lot of interesting info. He did not like the way we pronounced ‘Grazie’ and said real Italians put more emphasis on the ‘e’ at the end. We corrected ourselves accordingly.

We walked down the hill back to our hotel via Yummy’s for a gelato stop. JC was still struggling a little with the cold I gave him and he and Yvonne went back to their room for a little rest. Mandy and I thought we would go up Cristoforo Colombo which was the road outside our hotel and the main drag in Positano. We found an outside deck that was nicely decorated and served drinks called Franco’s. The drinks were very fancy along with their price. We each ordered something and they were quite good. There was a couple to my left that was roughly our age from Boston and a young couple to my right from San Jose. We had a great conversation with them both. JC and Yvonne showed up and we had another round of drinks and more conversation. It was a great way to cap off the night.

There is no doubt that Positano is unique and VERY picturesque.

Wednesday 5/6: We had a lovely breakfast at our hotel Bougainville. We got bus tickets to go up to Nocelle which is at the top of Positano. This bus ride was one for the ages. I had to stand and Mandy got to sit. The bus driver drove very quickly which was crazy and the road was full of really steep drops which seemed more extreme than our drive in, which is hard to believe. On the ride up Mandy made friends with a fellow passenger named Cida who was from Brazil. She was going to work and wanted to show us the restaurant she was working at. She told us to follow her which would prove to be a fair way down the Path of the Gods stairs. We noticed at the top of the stairs before heading down, that there was a mule tied to a wall. We would later find out that you can ride it up or down the many stairs which is the Path of the Gods.

She took us to La Fresella Ristorante owned by Vincenzo. This was a family affair as we saw his Mom and daughter along with a bunch of workers. We got the full tour which consisted of a pizza oven, outdoor dining room and table on the roof of a building with a spectacular view of Positano. It was looking a little rough but we got swept up in enthusiasm by our newfound friendship with Cida and now Vinzenzo and could ‘see the possibilities’. I thought we were going to eat there but it turns out we just got a tour. They showed us their Instagram page (La Fresella Ristorante). I followed them and they really have cleaned things up and made it quite nice.

Our new friends Cida and Vinzenzo from La Fresella Ristorante, we made our way down a lot of stairs for the lower half of the Path of the Gods.

After saying our goodbyes, we started down the 1,000 steps of the Path of the Gods as we didn’t want to climb back up to where we started. The end result is we never really got to see the town of Nocelle which is a little disappointing not knowing what we missed. The trip down was long and of course full of stairs. JC struggled some but after a while, we finally made it down. It ends on the road which was a good way south of Poistano. In light of JC’s struggle down, we elected to flag down a taxi and get driven back in to Positano. After a little effort we found one who had to circle back to pick us up and head in the right direction. The driver’s name was also Massimo and we dubbed him “tre”. The taxi experience is exactly what you would expect in Italy and particularly in Positano. Massimo tre was no fan of our current American political situation and also thought all tourists suck except Americans and Australians. We returned to the Bougainville for a little siesta and prepared for dinner.

We made our way to the next recommendation we got which was called Ristorante Mediterraneo. We got a nice outside seat and enjoyed another good meal highlighted with a singer taking requests for Italian songs. His name is Pietro Rainone who was a lot of fun. The waiters and almost everyone in the restaurant participated and made requests. Generally I am not a fan of this type of thing but this was good. We had to dig deep for Italian songs we knew. After dinner we cabbed home to the Bougainville.

When we go to the hotel, we decided we would check out a wine tasting room very close to the hotel called Le Tre Sorelle Wine Room. We met our sommelier whose name I have now forgotten and her not-mom. She was very nice and quite helpful. Mandy and I tried some grappa to confirm that it is tough to get through. Two young couples showed up and we talked to them for a while. One was from Orange County CA and newly married. The other couple was from Jacksonville and our guess was probably going to have a proposal in the next few days. They were all in the medical field. The couples left and it seemed like our hosts were anxious to go home so we moved on as well. We returned to the hotel and had drinks on the veranda and watched the elderly manager at the front desk fall asleep at his desk.

We were returning from Capri and the ferry really gave us a great view of Positano.

Thursday 5/7: We woke up and had breakfast at Bougainville. We then walked to the port and took the ferry to Capri. It was really nice to be able to see Positano from the sea and see it in its full glory. We met a mother-daughter combination from Boston and talked to them for a while on the way over. We finally arrived, got off the boat and decided we would take the tram up to the ‘center’ of town. We walked around a bunch checking things out and scoping a place for lunch. We of course went to look at a church which got us into a back alley that was off of one of the main roads and perched up high. I thought this might be a place where we could find a restaurant with a view, and I was right. We selected a place called Capri Capri which had a covered outside patio up high with a perfect view toward Italy and out over the harbor. This place is apparently the outpost of a famous pizzeria in Naples. Yvonne liked the young male waiters. We had another good meal.

This was our view at Capri Capri Pizzeria in Capri. Another good meal with another great view.

We decided we would check out the area toward the other side of the island and happened on a very posh section with high-end hotels and shops. Sort the Rodeo Drive of Capri. We checked out all the stores and decided that when we win the lottery, we could return and camp out at one of the hotels for a few days.

We got a nice view leaving Capri. You definitely could make an entire visit out of Capri, and maybe one day we will. We met a couple who also recommended Isola d’Ischia, which apparently is a lesser-known and just as beautiful island.

We had two ferry options to return to Positano, which were either 3 or 6 PM, and decided that we had gotten a good feel for Capri and would elect to take the 3 PM ferry, particularly since this was our last day. We took the tram back down to the port. We killed a little time at one of the cafes right at the port, which had these huge ‘franken-lemons’ on the table. Mandy and I thought we found someone’s ticket, and in point of fact, it was one of ours to return to Positano on the ferry, which I stupidly put down and almost didn’t get on the ferry back. The ferry ride both ways was very nice with lots of Mediterranean views.

This is JC at the top of Cristoforo Colombo looking for a last great restaurant for our Positano visit. It would also show us what our drive was going to look like the next day.

We returned to home base at the Bougainville. We got dressed in some fancier clothes for a last hoorah fancy dinner, despite not really having a firm destination. We met in the balcony and our hosts at the Bougainville, Rosa and Antonella served us preseco on the veranda. We then ventured out for our last dinner in Positano with a shaky reservation at Don Giovanni’s. I went to see if we could really get in there and they only had a table indoors. I really wanted this meal to be at a memorable location, so we pushed on heading up Cristoforo Colombo. We struggled a bit finding something. At the top of the road we found a couple of places but the location was not perfect. One called the ROC which was a bit of a hike and only served uncooked meat which you had to cook yourself.

The last supper in Positano at the Terrazza Celè restaurant.

We headed back down Cristoforo Colombo. Walking on the outside sidewalk which showed us a good view of everything below, we could see a patio restaurant that looked to be a part of a hotel. It appeared to be very high-end so we presumed we could not get in without a reservation. You had to take an elevator down so I volunteered to check it out. Sure enough, they would seat us so I texted everyone to come on down to Terrazza Celè at the Hotel Marincanto. The atmosphere was a ten but the meal was a six. The last confirmation that meals at hotel restaurants were not as good as those at regular restaurants. We walked back to Le Tre Sorelle Wine Room and talked to our favorite sommelier, whose name we still can’t remember. She told us her life story which was interesting and an insight into life on the Amalfi Coast. There was an Austrian couple that walked in and we thought we were going to have a repeat of the night before with good conversation with other tourists, but no, as I think we scared them and they left. Mandy and I had some excellent port wine. It had gotten pretty late and we eventually went to bed.

We got a great view of the northern end of Positano on our walk home.

Friday 5/8: We woke up and went down to our last breakfast at the Bougainville. The hotel was perfect and an ideal spot for our three days in Positano. We checked out and said goodbye to Salvatore. We got everything in the car and pulled out of the parking spot and were ready to leave. After Yvonne and Mandy bought some Positano tchotchkes and ornaments. Goodbye Positano!

We hit the road and headed north to eventually get to Rome and the airport. We first drove through Sorrento which seemed to be pretty nice. It was a fairly sizeable city. Then we drove through Napoli where the Pope was planning to visit that same day. We were hoping to miss any additional traffic he may be creating and for the most part, it was clear sailing. Napoli was a decidedly big city and came with a reputation of being hardscrabble, poor and Mafia-influenced. We did not stop. We also could see Mount Vesuvius and debated whether we should stop and also see the Lost City of Pompeii. We really didn’t have a lot of time and so that was a somewhat easy decision.

We debated whether we should head straight to Rome, which would take us inland or we should go around Naples and head to the coast and drive the highway that hugs the Mediterranean. We opted for the latter and made our way to Pozzuoli. We worked our way in town towards the harbor where we ended up parking. We got out and walked through a nice but a bit rugged old town and ended up at the Piazza della Repubblica. We stopped at Mapò Wine & Food for some coffee. Afterwards, we headed back to the car and JC found what appeared to be a really authentic Napoli pizza. He was upset he did not get a slice, as this was one of the few places we found in Italy that sold pizza by the slice.

We continued up the coast and came upon Mondragone, which was a small, sleepy beach town that was very deserted. We drove around a bit going right to the water. We did eventually find an open restaurant called Ristorante e Pizzeria Cielo e Mare, which was a bit of a challenge as no one was around and it was siesta time as well. We were the only ones in there and they said we could come in. We got a good table right on the edge of the beach. This was clearly a family restaurant, and there was a Nona who was doing the cooking. There were some other relatives who were working which we guess was an effort to get ready for the summer. The meals were surprisingly good. JC ordered a mystery seafood dish. The family was very nice and we talked with them a bit.

We returned to the car and headed for Rome. We opted to go inland and abandon the coastal drive. We arrived around 5 PM. We had a reservation at the Hilton, which was right at the airport. We dropped our bags off and got our hotel rooms. The hotel was quite busy. I drove the car back to the rental return. Some kid inspected it and did not see any damage from our wedge situation in Gioia del Colle.

JC and Yvonne went to the executive lounge for free drinks. We met them there and decided we should have dinner as Mandy and I needed to get up relatively early to catch our flight. The meal was very average and it was like we were not in Italy anymore. This is why I ended up ordering a burger, as getting Italian food didn’t seem appropriate! We said our goodbyes on the 5th floor executive wing of the Hilton hotel!

And with that, the journey was officially over. Hard to believe! What an amazing two weeks it was! It really could not have worked out better. Southern Italy was a combination of ancient beauty, warm and generous people, all delivered through our spontaneous itinerary.

And again, the purpose of this accounting of the trip is selfishly for my own reference when I have forgotten the details of what really was a trip of a lifetime, filled with discovery, amazing views, wrong turns, characters, food and wine, and most importantly, good friends!

A few of the standout recurring themes:

  • Italian towns require a hill to build a church and a fort at the top with a town to surround it

  • Italians love convening in public areas to catch up and pass the time

  • The search for locals and authentically Italian spots

  • Ching ching - lots of food, wine and good conversation

  • Lucky a number of times to run into a few cultural events

  • Unexpected kindness from locals

  • Narrow roads, alleys and some interesting parking

Death of a Salesman: The Gregg Friedman Story

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Death of a Salesman: The Gregg Friedman Story

On the evening of Monday January 7th, 2019, I received a text message from my friend Eric Butler that he heard something bad had happened with our friend Gregg Friedman. The details were few. I reached out to Gregg and there was no answer. There was nothing really on the internet but a vague police report about an incident at Gregg’s home in San Francisco with his wife Vickki and their two boys Lucas and Max. At some point the next morning, I received confirmation that Gregg had shot himself at his house on Monday morning.

Some people are just born to sell and Gregg Friedman was the best example of this that I have known. However, Gregg was much more than just a salesman. He was a generous, very loyal and adventurous friend. His death was quite shocking and unexpected. The following is my recollection of some of the many really great times with my friend.

This was taken on the side of some river in southern New Zealand

This was taken on the side of some river in southern New Zealand on an epic two-week adventure we had with Eric Butler and Bill Miller. We had just helicoptered into the world’s highest bungee jump and jet boated down the river. We were getting ready to white water raft and finish the final leg of the ‘Awesome Foursome’.

I distinctly recall the first time I met Gregg. I was hanging out with Bill Miller in San Francisco, and he said we should go to a bar where one of his friends from college from the University of Rhode Island was hanging out. I can see the space in my head but I don’t recall the name of the bar other than it was on Fillmore Street right below Union. He was sitting at a table and there were some other people around. Introductions were made. He was further into the night from an alcohol consumption perspective than Bill and I were. My first impression of him was that he was kind of annoying. He was determined to play dice. I had never played dice before and didn’t know how to play but that did not deter Gregg. Not only did we play a lot of dice that night, but it would be a game that would weave through my thirty-year relationship with him. Fittingly, the last night I spent with him two months before his death, we played a pretty epic game of dice.

Gregg was a force of nature and single-handedly was the catalyst for some of my favorite stories and memories. Gregg had many good qualities but his one shortcoming was his inability to apply conditional thinking; if I do ‘this’, the result will be …. ? And often the answer was something bad. Gregg had a lot of nicknames from his many friends, but I would often refer to him as “Bubble Boy”. Meaning, he lived his life in the here and now, and consequences be damned. This would suggest he knew or had considered the consequences and opted to continue. My experience was that he was purely impulsive. The end result for Bubble Boy was a slew of crazy results. The following are some of the best ones that I remember.

The next few were small things that have stuck with me. On a random weekday night, Gregg had convinced me and some others to go out for drinks. We would often go to Union Street in San Francisco, which in the 90’s had a number of very good options. There was one place called Cal’s that was in the basement of a newer office-like building. Cal’s was on the bottom half of drinking possibilities that focused on dancing. Our friend John Corrigan bartended there for a while and I can’t remember if that was the reason we selected Cal’s this night. After a little while, Gregg eyed some young lady to ask to dance and she obliged. As I recall, they were either the only people dancing. Gregg went hard on his moves which in my mind did not match the vibes of that night in any way. After about twenty minutes of this, they take a break. Gregg returned back to whoever joined his to report, “I think my dancing has REALLY turned the corner”. That statement struck as so odd and surprising that it has stuck with me to this day. And it really typified Gregg’s whole ethos.

Somehow Gregg connected with two guys named Tommy and Tomas who amongst other things, were associated with the Young Scandinavian Club. What is YSC you ask? Just what it sounds like; a group of young people with Scandinavian heritage throwing parties and trips. And it lived up to what you thought you would expect with parties in San Francisco, Clear Lake, Tahoe and a bunch of other places. What made it a perfect Gregg Friedman situation is he became a member with no Scandinavian heritage. Soon after I applied as well. My mother is Danish and was a legitimate prospective member. I had to jump through umpteen hoops to prove my Danish lineage including getting a copy of my great-grandfather’s Danish birth certificate. Which gets me back to Gregg. How he became a member is inexplicable and when I would ask, he would say he had a sliver of Swedish blood. This situation summed up many aspects of the Gregg experience.

Bill Miller, Eric Butler, Gregg and I went on an epic trip to both New Zealand and Australia in November 1993. This trip created a Gregg story every day. And there are a few of them that were epic.

This is a video that the bungee company AJ Hacket took of ur jumps. Gregg went first and is visibly nervous. I went last and so any nerves were overidden by having to do it because everyone else already did. At the time, it was the world’s highest bungee jump.

Horizontal Bungee: We had planned before we left on this trip to do the world’s highest bungee jump in Queenstown, New Zealand. There was a package called the ‘Awesome Foursome’ which included helicoptering into the mountains to the suspension bridge, where we would do the bungee jump. After the jump, they lowered you into a jet boat, where we would then jet down the river and then we did class 4 whitewater rafting. It was an epic adventure and got the trip started with a bang. For me, the scariest part was the helicopter ride in. The chopper would severely shudder and shake as we went over and across the peaks of the mountains.

After a successful day, we went back to Queenstown and went to a local bar that had a ‘horizontal bungy jump’ for patrons. They would put you in a harness and there was a bungee cord bolted to the wall. About 50 feet down they would put a beer on a table. You got three tries to run as hard as you can to try to grab the beer. Behind the beer on the table were about four or five rows of tables and patrons who would watch.

So of course, Gregg was the first to volunteer to try. The crowd and he were pumped. After some fanfare, he launched for his first try. Gregg had a low center of gravity so he had a good chance of success. However, he was a bit tentative on the first try and came up empty. Now with a feel of what he was in for, his second attempt was much more determined, but still he came up shy, grasping for the beer which was a few feet away. Now he was down to his last chance and Gregg was pretty competitive, not to mention the crowd encouraging him on. He launched himself down the track with everything he had. Just when the bungee really began to get taught, the anchor on the wall at the beginning let go. Gregg was in full momentum and proceeded to fly by the beer and into the crowd that had gathered on the other side of the beer. He went through the crowd and tables like a bowling ball through pins with people, beer and tables flying. Somehow, he managed to grab the beer as he flew by it and miraculously didn’t break any bones as he crashed through the crowd. There was a momentary hush after things settled a little, and then Gregg jumped up with beer in hand and roared. The crowd went crazy.

ATVs and Dennis: We decided to go on an ATV tour to old abandoned mines in the mountains of Queenstown. We showed up to the guide’s shop. There was a ‘well-fed’ gentleman behind the counter who introduced himself as Dennis and let us know that he would be guiding us up to the abandoned mines. He asked whether we had ridden ATVs before and for the most part, we said sort of, even though the real answer was effectively no. He wanted us to practice in a large area right next to his shop. So we each got our machines and a little lesson on how to operate the vehicle. He asked us to spend 20 to 30 minutes getting comfortable with the machines.

We started going around the various practice trails and testing our abilities. We definitely were getting better and more confident. About halfway through our training period, Gregg was in front of me and yelled to me to watch him do some stunt that he had cooked up. He gunned it and then proceeded to run nearly straight into this giant concrete block. The ATV comes to a dead stop and Gregg flips over the handlebars with one hand still gripping the handlebars and lying flat on top of the concrete block. For a minute, I thought he was dead. It was quite violent. He gets up a bit stunned and says he is alright. We then notice pretty quickly that the front end of his ATV is bent out very much out-of-line. By this time, Eric and Bill showed up, and I explained what had happened. The ATV was rideable but one front wheel was noticeably pushed back. We all stood around Gregg’s ATV debating what the approach with Dennis should be. However based on the damage there were not a lot of options.

We returned to Dennis’ office with the strategy of putting Gregg in the back and hoping Dennis wouldn’t notice. This lasted about two minutes. Dennis was providing the last bit of instructions and then all of a sudden his head turned, his talking stopped and he started walking towards Gregg. He uttered something to the effect of ‘what the hell happened to the front of this ATV’? Gregg gave some half-hearted ‘I’m not sure’ which carried no water with Dennis. There was some back and forth and Dennis declared to Gregg, ‘Well now you are going to have to ride with me’.

Dennis wasn’t riding an ATV. He had a dirt bike. Gregg would get on the dirt bike with Dennis and wrap his arms around Dennis’ rather large stomach holding on for dear life. The tour was about four hours and the entire time when we would stop or we would catch Gregg away from Dennis, we would refer to him as Dennis’ liettle bitch. It was hilarious to see Gregg have to mount the bike with Dennis and see his face as Dennis raced up and down these mountains.

This was us in Cairns, Australia near the Great Barrier Reef about to scuba dive. I think this was the first time for all of us. We got a five-minute overview from a thick Australian accent on what to do and not to do. Needless to say, liability is not a big concern down under and Gregg would test those limits.

Scuba Diving on the Great Barrier Reef: We had made our way north in Australia to Cairns. This parto Australia was quite tropical. We went here to scuba dive on the Great Barrier Reef. None of us really had any suba experience, but in Australia, no problem. I remember the evening we got there we wandered down to the water and found a guy with a sailboat that took scuba tours. So we signed up and were going to leave the following morning.

We showed up, goit in the boat and proceeded to motor (on a sailboat) to the Great Reef which took over an hour. We finally got there and suited up with all the equipment. We sat on the edge of the sailboat and got instructions on what to do. It was pretty windy that day and I was at the end. I had a hard time hearing and misheard the instructions on your vest that provided floatation. Had I not asked, I would have jumped in and sunk right to the bottom which would not have been fatal but not good.

We all jumped in, went to the bottom and checked in with our scuba guide. He counted four of us and we proceeded to follow him and explore the reef. He would stop about every five minutes, circle up and give a count to make sure we were all there. This went on for about twenty minutes. With time we were getting a little more adventurous. And then at some point we circled up and our guide counted one, two, three. In an instant, I knew Gregg was missing. I was already starting to think of bad scenarios as to where Gregg was and what may have happened to him. The guide asked us, all with hand gestures, to sit at the bottom of the Great Barrier Reef and wait for him to go look around to see if he could find Gregg.

Our guide returned after about five minutes and did yet another count; one, two and yes, still just three of us, not four. He did this a couple of times which nearly made my head explode. We were asked to sit again at the bottom of the ocean and wait for him to look around. And upon his return, the same result and the same stupid counting; YES, still just three of us. He did this about five times in total which was inexplicable to me.

While we were waiting for probably what was twenty minutes in total, I was imagining the phone call we would need to make to his mother explaining the situation. Which was totally inexplicable but that was the Gregg experience. Mercifully, we finally went to the surface and we could see Gregg swimming on the surface about two hundred yards away. We all swam to the boat and of course grilled Gregg as to what happened. His response was very unsatisfying. Our Great Barrier Reef experience came to an end and we went back to shore.

There are a hundred other Gregg stories. Being with Gregg was rarely boring. Gregg was a special person in a good way. He was a very good friend, but more importantly a good son, brother, father and person.

I had visited Gregg the November before his death. It was a 25-year reunion of ur New Zealand and Australia trip. I showed up at his house midday on a Saturday. His wife and kids had gone to their grandparents in San Luis Obispo. We caught up over a beer in his living room. He conveyed that he was having some family issues and personal challenges, but seemed to be in reasonably good shape. In typical Gregg fashion, instead of hitting the town, we ended up going to a neighbor’s house for a fundraiser for his kid’s basketball team. Initially I couldn’t believe I traveled to San Francisco to hang out at some house but it turned out to be a really fun time.

We had a surprisingly great night hanging out at one of Gregg’s neighbor’s house. This is the last time I would see Gregg.

I have spent the last month trying to figure out what could have happened. And while there are some threads to pull, it still doesn’t add up. Gregg was a better friend to me than I was to him. He would randomly call me up just to check in. I will miss those calls and it is hard not to believe that we probably had a few more adventures.

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White is superior!

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White is superior!

Ahhhh …. I know what you were thinking but what I want to talk about is heat. If you were paying attention in general science sometime around seventh grade, you would know that the darker in color something is, the more heat it absorbs. Or just living life, you might have noticed this phenomenon. An observation I have had is that America and many portions of the world are covered with roads. Many of these roads are ‘blacktop’ or asphalt. These roads are at minimum dark, if not black, and they absorb a lot of heat. In the US, people love to make their asphalt as black as possible.

The old asphalt is already dark and absorbing a lot of heat. Wait, I have a good idea, lets make it even darker!

The old asphalt is already dark and absorbing a lot of heat. Wait, I have a good idea, let’s make it even darker!

In our community, our pavement is in very good shape. Yet every three years or so, they coat the top with black sealer. Our sun in Southern California is very strong. I take some pride in not using our air-conditioning unless we really have to. Our asphalt absorbs a lot of heat and must slow the cooling in the evening. Why do we need to make it even darker? If our roads really needed the sealer to make them last longer, maybe I would understand. But they do not!

According to Wikipedia, there are approximately 4,071,000 miles of roads in the United States. Of that total, 2,678,000 miles are paved, leaving 1,394,000 miles unpaved. Apparently less than 1 percent of the land area of the U.S. is covered by roads, according to the Federal Highway Administration. The total land area of the contiguous 48 states is 2,959,067 square miles. In the US, the area devoted to roads and parking lots covers an estimated 61,000 square miles. That is bigger than the state of Georgia. That is a lot of sun-absorbing area. How much has that heated the planet? What does this look like across our planet?

That is a lot of roads!

That is a lot of roads!

I am sure you have seen the buildings in Greece where everything is white. And why have they done that for many years? The simple answer is that the sun is strong and it makes no sense to absorb heat when it is already hot. This certainly is not my idea, but why not make all our roads white? And in some places this is being done. Further, as the world warms, should we not be exploring as many ways as possible to keep it cooler?

This seems to make a lot of sense. Obviously it performs better and the stats are discussed in the video above. I wonder why this is not getting more ‘coverage’ and use?

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Reflection and Grading My Parenting Efforts

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Reflection and Grading My Parenting Efforts

I would give myself a grade of B- with respect to my parenting efforts and results. My work is not done, but I am getting close to being effectively done on a day-to-day basis; maybe five more years until it becomes essentially official.

I never really planned to be a parent. There certainly was a general presumption and expectation for my generation, and really every generation that preceded me, that you get married and have kids. I spent a decade having fun before any of this happened. I am glad I did, but I think that was a reflection of my true nature which is born out of selfishness. My parents talked about being grandparents on occasion but they never really put any pressure on my brother or me. I had some friends whose parents were obsessed with being grandparents. And maybe that pressure happens to girls more than boys? I was not against being a parent, but it was not something that I gave much thought to or had any compelling desire for. For me, being a parent just happened. There was essentially no planning. Somewhere between believing it was what I was supposed to do and our inherent ‘horny-ness’ resulted in having three kids.

This was 2007 and at our place in Maine. In hindsight, this was a good time for me but I appreciate it more now than I did at the time.

This was 2007 at our place in Maine. In hindsight, this was a good time for me but I appreciate it more now than I did at the time.

My kids are fundamentally good people. That is the primary reason why my self-grade is as high as it is; more due to their abilities and less about my contributions. At the core of being a parent, you fear your children’s ability to successfully navigate the world. That certainly is the case for me. Woven into that concern is a selfish desire to cut the financial cord and not having to dwell on this fundamental concern on a daily basis. I will have been effectively a ‘full-time’ parent for about 30 years. That is a long time for what is a pretty intense responsibility. And I recognize that it is not unique to me. Also it is very apparent that you never stop being a parent. Even as they become adults, you are still ‘on the job’. However, the frequency of that work goes down, hopefully. I suspect that when issues do arise, the severity will be higher. This is a reflection of one of my key takeaways of parenting. When they are young, challenges are high frequency and lower severity. When they get older, it flips to low frequency, but when problems do arise the severity is higher. There is also the reality that when your kids are older, ‘what you don’t know can’t hurt you’. The opposite of the old adage, but in this respect, the ‘hurt’ manifests itself as an ever-present worry.

When I look at pictures of my kids when they were young, I think they are so cute, wonderful and I long for those days. I think it would be magical to spend five minutes with the younger version of each child. To be able to observe and interact with that version of them now would be very meaningful. My ability to appreciate that version of them would be very different now versus when I was in those moments. Not to mention just giving them a giant hug and a squeeze would be amazing. And yet, during that time, I must confess I was not the most attentive and involved parent. This is really the essence of my greatest regret as a parent. I would like to think that I share this with many other parents. Unlike me, my wife really stepped up and was the ever-present parent. That condition has not changed much. My preference was to mostly focus on work or other activities that allowed for time by myself. This is the core of my many shortcomings as a parent. As I reflect on that, I realize that this was the time to shape my children into being the people that they could and would become. I would assign most of the blame for any shortcomings my kids have now to either my interest in doing other things or a lack of tenacity and endurance to persist in engendering good habits and characteristics.

This is a picture of Ben and Sara kayaking at a ‘resort’ just north of San Diego. My wife had gotten a recommendation from a friend that it was a great place to go for the weekend. She really wanted to take the kids there. She wanted us all to go but I said I needed to work and so she went with them by herself. That was a mistake. I should have gone. These situations came up throughout their youth and continue even today. I don’t always make the right decision.

Another primary regret is my memory of the details of their youth fading with every day. I think this manifests itself in two ways: I forget some of the very real struggles we had with each child, and more upsetting, I forgot some of the really good memories when they were in this very special period of their lives. They are refreshed when I see pictures. We did a pretty good job of taking pictures, particularly when they were younger; those efforts were less frequent as they got older. When I scroll through these old pictures, I have a pang in my heart that I did not provide them what they really deserved.

My wife is a good Mom and really goes out of her way to do things for her children. She was very generous with her time for them. This was good because it is not my first inclination. I have heard it said that we find characteristics in a mate that we are deficient in and while this was sheer luck for me, it was true with respect to being a good parent. Maybe it is intuitive that we recognize these capabilities in finding a mate? She is 100% Italian and the stereotypes of Italians and how they parent has a lot of merit. She goes to great lengths to do things for them. Many of which I would not have done myself from a style perspective.

My generation of parents has often been accused of ‘helicoptering’ or ‘bull-dozing’ on behalf of our kids. I certainly saw some of this amongst our friends and neighbors. And we certainly were not immune to these tendencies. I was definitely a lot more independent as a child and more adventurous. There were times when my children would be playing out front with neighborhood kids and while I wasn’t always out there to supervise, I definitely felt as though I should. Our street was a little dangerous with respect to vehicle traffic, but not terrible. My wife and I did not see this condition the same way.

In my mind, our primary directive as parents is to create children who are independent and able to successfully navigate the world. This includes them leaving the nest. My wife would be with her children forever. My sink-or-swim approach drew ire with both my wife and particularly with my mother-in-law. We would battle on how best to help them. Essentially it was the providing villagers fish versus teaching them how to fish. I would like to believe that this dueling approach resulted in a pretty good end result; essentially good cop, bad cop. I wonder also how much of this condition was specific to our own upbringing and how much of it is just typical for most parents and their children.

I believe Alfredo was seven in this picture. We were at our summer home in Maine on our honeymoon and this really marks the beginning of Alfredo’s new parental reality of a split parenting experience.

Alfredo is our oldest. He is my stepson. However, since I was a big contributor to his parents’ divorce, I feel a lot of responsibility with respect to his well-being. To the best of my ability, I have tried to treat him as if he were my child. I think I have been fairly successful in this effort. He is a good kid and is smart and capable. The split of his parents did have an effect on him. I debate with myself how profound the impact was thinking in one moment it was not significant and then believing there are some real scars. When he was young and would get dropped off at our house for the week after spending the weekend with his father, there would be some hostility for nearly a day until he would calm down. This was a pretty consistent phenomenon. In 2001, we moved from the Bay Area to Southern California. Alfredo stayed in the Bay Area with his father. This was essentially his entire middle and high school experience. We would fly him down for the weekend, holidays and would send him to summer camp along with summer vacations. We would see him a lot, but this too had some impact on him.

This was a picture when Alfredo was visiting. Sara and Ben really enjoyed their time with him when he was visiting. And so did Alfredo for the most part. That being said, I think there was some struggle for him going back and forth.

He did manage to graduate from high school but was not a good student. There was not a real focus on the importance of school with his father and stepmother; although he does have a half-sister who is quite the student. When high school was winding down, we pushed him to think about going into the military. He was going to be a sailor in the Navy for a moment but that didn’t come to fruition. He gets quite exercised when he cannot control his environment or doesn’t have clarity about the future. This doomed the Navy option. He made a half-hearted effort at community college but this was mostly a time of play. After about two years of this, he decided to move down to Southern California with us. Shortly after arriving, he got a job at a Verizon store and did very well selling cell phones. Within short order, he was running the store. It was a real success. But after about a year, things began to take a turn for the worse. He got hooked on opiates which resulted in us kicking him out of the house and ultimately getting arrested for selling opiates. This began a year-plus journey getting clean. If there was a silver lining, he took getting back on track seriously and was able to get back to ‘normal’ in a meaningful way. Through a court program, he cleared his record and has been clean and successful for a few years. He is very capable and has lots of abilities but has yet to figure out how he will channel those capabilities. This is certainly a source of worry as a parent but we are optimistic.

Sara was a very cute baby. This was in our first home in South San Francisco. I miss this version of Sara. As time goes on, I have a harder and harder time really remembering these versions of my kids.

Sara is my firstborn. She arrived early in our marriage which was fine since we had an ‘instant’ family with Alfredo. Mandy was over the moon that she had a daughter. She was a pretty easy baby and this persisted through most of her childhood. Sara would grow to be both independent and stubborn. On the whole, I think these are pretty good characteristics. We used to take her everywhere with us particularly when she was young. Many of these outings were me trying to hold onto my single lifestyle with my many friends in San Francisco.

When we moved to Southern California, Sara cruised through elementary and middle school. She was a good student and active in many different things like soccer, brownies and had a large group of friends.

In high school, she got off to a great start both academically and made the cheerleading team as a freshman. She was a flyer and really one of the best in the group. She had done a lot of cheerleading competitions and performed really well. I was very impressed. Some time as a Junior things began to take a turn. The group of girls and mothers who were a part of cheerleading was a fairly intense group. Some of the girls started to turn on one of Sara’s friends in some cruel ways. Sara to her credit stuck with her friend. This was certainly a moment of integrity for her. Unfortunately, it resulted in her becoming a bit of an outcast among the cheerleaders. Further one of her best friends in elementary and middle school had joined the cheerleading as a junior. This one-time friend turned on Sara in some very unfortunate ways.

Sara during this time got her first boyfriend, Dakota. This situation was also a contributor to her alienation from some of her old friends in cheer. For some odd reason, some of their mothers had opinions about this as well. Dakota was a pretty good kid all things considered. I will confess that having a daughter with a boyfriend is a situation I really don’t care for; my guess is that this is shared by many fathers. And while my boys really have not had any girlfriends, I definitely see this differently based purely on the sex of my children, right or wrong. Dakota came from a broken family and was essentially raised by a single mother. He was definitely searching for his identity. He was also religious which as a father of a daughter, I would like to think had some upside, despite my own perspective on religion. Ultimately they broke up sometime in her senior year. There was some drama around this but it ended up all working out.

The result was that Sara really wanted to leave it all behind. She also made a pretty compelling case that she was not getting the academic support she needed which of course carried weight with me. We ended up enrolling her in a private and one-on-one school for the remainder of her high school experience. This worked out pretty well, although a little part of me wonders if toughing it out would have been the better choice. This culminated in a graduation ceremony where Sara was recognized on a number of occasions for being a standout student and a member of the community. My ultimate assessment was that this experience really was turning lemons into lemonade.

Sara went through the college admission experience and ultimately was accepted into a handful of colleges. She ended up picking the University of Arizona. We were all very excited and proud of this accomplishment. I did struggle with the price tag but rationalized that it was going to be worth it. We dropped her off and got her all set up in her dorm room. She was in a room of four girls. They were pretty nice but my wife struggled with this and did not paint the most positive perspective on that particular arrangement. Her skepticism was an issue for a few weeks prior to her arrival and continued to be confirmed during her first semester. Nonetheless, Sara made friends in the dorm and was on her way. Things seemed pretty good the first semester. There were many late-night Uber trips that we saw because we were paying for them. I just saw this as her taking advantage of the social component of college. She came home for Christmas and had failed a couple of classes. Essentially ‘dog at my homework’ situations. In retrospect, the writing was on the wall but she went back for the next semester and I had hoped she would figure out the academics. She didn’t and was academically unable to return after her freshman year.

As I look back on this effort, I don’t regret trying. Despite listening to some pretty smart people make some compelling arguments against college, it is my reference point and all things being equal, I would prefer my kids to have a college education than not. For Sara, academics were always a bit of an uphill battle. She is a doer at heart. Her success for the last year and a half in high school at Halstrom Academy led me to believe she could be successful in school. College requires focus and balance between academics and social fun. Sara was unable to do what was needed on either front.

She got a job at our local Nothing Bunt Cakes. She quickly worked her way to being the manager which I thought was quite the accomplishment. She was there for a while and was quite successful. That being said I would push her to think about the next thing. Ultimately she is reactive and not proactive in her life. After a couple of years she began to get a bit restless in the position exacerbated by an owner who was a little crazy. She ended up getting fired but the separation was mutual.

She got a job at our local Mercedes dealership making cold calls. This is okay for now but I believe she has a lot more to give and accomplish. I am waiting for her to see this in herself and really start her life. Sound familiar?

Early on in our life in Southern California, my parents and brother came out to visit for the holidays. We went to Big Bear and took the kids tubing in the snow. Ben was pretty young. He liked it but he was always a pretty cautious kid. This has persisted through his life.

Ben arrived not long after Sara. He was a pretty big baby. My wife had a pretty uneventful pregnancy and popped him out pretty quickly despite his size. I would always joke with her that she was just starting to hit her rhythm birthing kids. That being said, we both knew this would be our last and we probably were now in over our heads with three kids.

Ben was a good-natured, curious, but a bit shy as a young child. He was adored by his grandmother who watched him when he was young in her home in Daly City. We could not have asked for a better arrangement. She watched all three kids for a considerable length of time which was great both from a child-rearing perspective and financially. Ben was definitely special to her. For those first two years, he was treated like a king. I realized after a while that he really needed to go to pre-school, if for no other reason to have a toy ripped out of his hands by some other kid to let him know that life was going to be different than his great treatment with Mamma. So off to RW Drake in South City he went to join his sister.

This was Ben’s first day at RW Drake. He was joining his big sister who definitely would take care of him; this persists even today. This is one of my favorite pictures.

He was pretty young when we moved to Orange County and effectively only knows Southern California as his home. A situation I still sometimes have a hard time wrapping my head around. Initially he spent time at a daycare with his sister in Irvine called Stepping Stones. That was a good experience. When it came time for kindergarten, his birthday was very close to the cutoff and we decided to hold him back. His sister was definitely ready but he was a little young. We sent him to a private kindergarten before going to kindergarten at Foothill Ranch Elementary. He would always ask if we held him back and for a long time we would tell him that we didn’t. I am not sure if we have ever really disclosed what happened. I think it was a good decision. If for no other reason to feel good about the decision, he ended up with a pretty good group of friends from his K through 12 experience.

His elementary school experience was pretty good. He did have a buddy named Cole who he was (and is) very close through the majority of his elementary school experience. Cole during these times was fairly mischievous and this meant a number of teacher and principal meetings for Ben, and of course, his parents. They generally consisted of the need to focus on schoolwork and to stop being disruptive to the other students in his class. The two of them together were definitely rambunctious but I feel Ben was the sidekick in most of these activities. Academically he was a little above average but typically tested very well on the state exams. My conclusion of this circumstance is that he didn’t try hard enough. This would be a theme between him and me that has persisted throughout his life so far. I expect it will probably continue for the foreseeable future.

Ben moved on to RSM Middle School which was a bit of the same as his elementary school experience. He became very friendly with the Assistant Principal Mr. Bajork only because Ben would do something that required a meeting. The infractions were never of a serious nature but required some form of discipline.

It was in this period that he began to venture out with his group of buddies to get into mischief around our community. He was never the instigator, which I have mixed emotions about. There were a few late-night pickups when he was allegedly sleeping over someone’s house and they snuck out to do something stupid and got picked up twice by law enforcement. One of these incidents happened when we were ‘hosting’ the sleepover. And one of these occurrences required a parent meeting at one of his friends’ houses. It was a bit of a flashback for me as I had a similar situation at roughly the same age. All the parents gathered at this one house with the boys present; as I recall it was about five or six of them. The result was effectively ‘to do better’ and I wonder ultimately what the effect was, but it had to be done out of principle.

Ben had a reasonable sports career. He really likes sports and is pretty big and strong but was never going to do anything beyond high school. As a young kid, it was essentially baseball and soccer. He was above average at both. His soccer career concluded when he was about 12 and he had an epic last game where they were losing and he asked to go in goal. He was able to shut down the other team’s scoring and the game was tied up. It came down to penalty kicks and he stopped a couple as I recall and their team prevailed. In some ways, this may have been his peak moment in sports. Baseball fizzled out for two reasons. His last team in the ‘majors’ of Little League was on a team where the coach’s son was on the team who was good but his father thought he was the best. His father let the son get away with murder particularly around practice; mostly not attending. He would then play his kid all the time particularly as a pitcher. The kid had a number of meltdowns when things weren’t going his way. It was deflating for everyone, especially Ben. He also began being afraid of being hit by a pitch and so his batting got pretty bad which did not endear him to the coach. He really wanted to quit on this team but after a number of heated arguments, he begrudgingly stuck it out for the remainder of the season. However, that was the end of the baseball career.

This was one of Ben’s travel teams.

By chance one of his good friends started playing lacrosse and asked Ben if he wanted to as well. Ben said yes. This was the beginning of a pretty long journey in the sport culminating in playing varsity in his junior year. He was pretty good. When he was young he was very defensively minded despite being placed on attack most often. As he got further and further into the sport, he would either play attack or midi. He really didn’t have the speed or endurance for midi and would push for attack. His high school teams had some pretty prolific scorers of which he was not one. He would get scoring opportunities but would often defer to some of the other players. He did score on occasion and always had pretty reasonable shots on goal. I went to pretty much every one of his games. In high school, I missed one game (I can’t remember why) and Ben ended up scoring three goals. Go figure!

With respect to college, Ben was determined to go. I think a lot of his motivation was mostly because his two other siblings failed in their efforts. It was an area where he knew he could decisively beat them in something. He was not a great student prior to college. He is smart but his work ethic is only average; he does enough to get by. He was accepted into a number of schools but narrowed it down between the University of Arizona and Oregon University. We visited both schools even though he had been to U of A a number of times with his sister. I liked Oregon quite a bit and thought he might pull the trigger with respect to the Ducks as their Business School was good and their football and basketball teams were very good. I believed that the capability of the institution’s sports teams would play a big part in the overall decision. In the end, he opted to go to Tucson mostly because I think it was something he was more comfortable with; he had been there a number of times and it more closely resembled home. He is doing well there and I have every expectation he will graduate from the Eller School of Business … on time!

I would consider my track record with respect to college and my kids to be sub-par. My family had a good college track record prior to my kids. My grandfather and father both went to Harvard and were both accomplished students. My brother went to a better college than I did, but neither of us lived up to the high bar created by the previous two generations. There was a great deal of importance put on college in my family. As we were getting close to certainly Sara and Ben were getting ready for the process, I listened to a number of very smart people make some pretty compelling arguments as to why college was not the Return on Investment (ROI) it once had been, and for some kids clearly a bad option. That being said, it was what I had done and was most comfortable with so I believe all things being equal, it is better to have that piece of paper than not. My failure really started with not being persistent and determined to engender good study habits. And once that condition is allowed, probably somewhere around second to fourth grade, it is hard to put the horse back into the barn. And this was largely a parenting failure. My brother has two girls and I think he is doing a better job in this respect. While it is early, I suspect both my nieces will end up going and completing school. So should that be the outcome, my two kids who don’t have a diploma is largely on me.

This was taken at Sherry’s wedding; Mandy’s cousin. Besides being a good picture, I think this was a point in my kids life were things started for the first time to get serious with respect to what they might do with their lives. It was a time of endless possibilities and potential.

I believe the summary of my kid’s childhood years is a good upbringing with lots of benefits and privileges; less so for Alfredo as he spent essentially third grade through high school with his dad. This type of upbringing I think tends to make kids a little lazy and a general lack of the hunger and desire that would be helpful, arguably necessary throughout their lives.

Today I find that I want to have experiences with my kids, but getting them to come along is getting harder and harder. It is ironic, or maybe even tragic, that when they wanted me in their lives, I was distracted by my own interests and now that I want to be in their lives in a more meaningful way, they are distracted by starting their lives. I would like to think that I am not alone in this situation but nonetheless that does not diminish the guilt and tragedy of this situation.

Not-so-long-ago I was told by a wise friend of mine that his father told him that the most important thing he could do to be a good parent was to be interested and active in what your kids like and want to do, irrespective of what you might think of that activity in the moment. In retrospect, that advice was spot on. In the moment, I tried to shoehorn in things I wanted them to do. My wife was a lot better at this than I was; a recurring theme. Another ‘if I could go back’ item I would certainly take advantage of.

Part of my interest in engaging them with experiences is that I wish they were more adventurous. I would like to see them go off somewhere new and either start a life adventure or maybe even a new chapter in their lives. My wife on the other hand is very close to each of them and would be happy to have them all around her for the foreseeable future. This will most definitely be an area of tension as the cord is cut and they begin their lives.

In summary, the overarching feeling I have as a parent is worry and concern that they will not be able to successfully navigate the world. This, of course, is what I suspect all parents spend their time thinking about. I find that this manifests itself in my becoming the grouchy old man yelling, expressing concern that they will not measure up and generally need to ‘step up their game’ to have a chance at success. I try not to make our now-limited time together just me telling them what they are doing wrong; this is a work in progress. That being said, they all have the capacity to be good and successful adults despite shortcomings of their upbringing. And I am hopeful they will. I guess this is the essence of being a parent?

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Kansas, South and North Dakota, Nebraska and Colorado High Points

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Kansas, South and North Dakota, Nebraska and Colorado High Points

Over three days, I bagged five state high points. Not bad if I do say so myself. I flew into Denver on Tuesday, July 3rd and got in at about 10 PM. I checked my bag, which I knew was a mistake and took forever to come out; although I was at the wrong carousel for a while which did not help. I got my vehicle which was another Nissan Rogue and would allow me to sleep in the car. I took my sleeping bag this time so I would not run into the hotel issue from last Fourth of July weekend and my trouble in Stowe last Fall. I drove for about an hour and a half on I-70 East until I ran into a random rest area, parked, peed and went to bed.

This was my kind of high point. Essentially a drive up. Nice location and I had it all to myself.

This was my kind of high point. Essentially a drive up. Nice location and I had it all to myself.

I woke up fairly early the next morning, got dressed and got on the road. I found some coffee at a local gas stop and kept heading east towards Kansas’ high point. You drive into Kansas and then head south shortly thereafter. I had to drive on some pretty rural roads and the second half after getting off of I-70. In short order, I rolled into the road in Mount Sunflower. A little part of me thought maybe I should walk in but I opted to drive. It was a nice spot and there was a fairly significant marker for this high point. That it is the highest is hard to tell as you survey the land around you. And the overall altitude is just over 4,000 feet which is hard to believe. I took the requisite pictures and headed north toward South Dakota.

I worked my way north on State Highway 385 towards Rapid City. I went through Nebraska and even though I was close to the state high point, I decided to get that one on the way back to Colorado. The scenery was very interesting and I saw a lot of coal coming out of Eastern Wyoming through the Platte River Valley by train. This was a little depressing.

You enter the Black Hills National Forest shortly after entering South Dakota. The terrain started becoming interesting. I arrived at Sylvan Lake Campground which had an entry fee and was pretty busy. That caught me off guard a little, but I got in and put on my hiking gear to start what appeared to be a somewhat easy but interesting loop to Harney Peak or now Black Elk Peak. The scenery was nice and within about 45 minutes I had arrived at the peak. There was a very elaborate entrance carved into the rock and a tower to climb and see a 360-degree view of some pretty remarkable sites.

There was quite an impressive lookout tower at the top of Black Elk Peak in South Dakota.

There was quite an impressive lookout tower at the top of Black Elk Peak in South Dakota.

I had a very pleasant hike out. I saw a bunch of deer which was nice and then found my car. I got into my driving clothes and started heading north to White Butte in North Dakota. I was really close to Mount Rushmore and they were having a big Fourth of July celebration. That would be really great to see but I was on a mission to bag these peaks! Driving through Deadwood was a bit of a surprise. What an interesting place. I thought maybe some time in my life I might have to return. I grabbed some food and kept driving.

I arrived in Bowman, North Dakota and decided that this would work for an easy and early effort to hike White Butte. I found a back lot near a gas station where a bunch of semis were parked and found a good spot. I looked around scenic Bowman and this seemed to be the best spot. They were lighting off fireworks seemingly all night which made going to sleep a little challenging but I finally managed to get some rest.

I woke up in the morning after a pretty good night and got dressed. I walked over to the gas station and got some coffee and a little food and headed north. The scenery on this drive was really nice on a sunny summer day. Rolling hills of grass with buttes popping out here and there. I started down onto some farm roads and slowly worked my way to the entrance of White Butte. You had to drive essentially three sides of a square to get there. This high point is on private property and there is some conflicting information about access. I drove into the road as far as I felt comfortable. In retrospect, I probably should have walked in that last portion. I got dressed and headed up the road to the trail.

The landscape here is a bit strange. There is erosion that exposes this white sandy rock. I was heading up, there was a deer against and all-white background which would have made a pretty dramatic picture. I missed it though because I could not get my phone out quickly enough. The trail up is pretty short and before I knew it, I was at the top. The views were great and I really soaked it in.

I thought it was odd the elevation here was below Kansas. None-the-less, White Butte was memorable.

I thought it was odd the elevation here was below Kansas. None-the-less, White Butte was memorable.

I headed back to the car and was back pretty quickly. I spotted someone hiking in as I was getting out of my hiking clothes; which was probably unnecessary for this hike. We chatted and he was doing the same thing I was. He had just been to the Nebraska high point and recommended I stop in at a ranger station for that one. I never did.

I started heading south and towards Panorama Point in Nebraska. I had to cut into Wyoming for a bit and attack the high point from the west. The directions seemed pretty straightforward so I just went straight there despite the advice I had gotten earlier in the morning. I arrived there mid-afternoon and like Kansas, this one was a drive-up as well. Very nice and the buffalo one the way in was interesting. I took the pictures, soaked in the scenery, made a donation on the way out and started heading for Twin Lakes in Colorado.

This was pleasant and easy one to check off the list.

This was pleasant and easy one to check off the list.

I headed due south to I-76 and then 1-70. I grabbed some gas and a Chipotle bowl and then headed to meet my buddy at Twin Lakes campground. I managed to find the campground and his spot. It was good to see Clay Cox and I had not seen him for a while. Since I had gotten there at a somewhat reasonable hour, I wanted to climb in the morning. I had stopped at a store for food and water for the hike. Clay seemed up for it. We finally went to bed for a 6 AM wake-up.

The morning arrived and it was sunny and cool. I was ready to go. Clay, on the other hand, said his gout was acting up and he was going to bail. I was looking forward to having a partner for the third-highest peak. He gave me a ride up the road as far as he could get in his Lincoln Navigator, but it was not to the trailhead. This was a bit of a rough start and I wondered if I was going to actually pull this off. I had extra days so it did not need to happen this day. I kept walking up this road for about a mile and a half and finally got to the trailhead. This was good. There was no one around so I forged on.

I began my journey up and things were improving. I finally got out of the treeline and could see the top. I was able to do what I do best which is grind through it, and Mount Elbert turned out to be a grind. There was a section toward the top that was pretty steep. As I got to the top there were a fair number of people up there. I could see the top and the end, but it proved to be harder than it looked. I finally made it to the top. I was happy. I enjoyed some snacks. Someone had fashioned a sign made out of cardboard which I posed along with the official marker. I then went down. This was a bit taxing but I was happy to be done with this adventure and perfect on the peak bagging!

This was a good one and I had to push to get it done.

This was a good one and I had to push to get it done.

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Cirque Peak Overnight

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Cirque Peak Overnight

I had signed up with a Facebook group called SoCal Hiking. I was interested in doing some hiking with someone other than myself. Not too long after I signed up, they had posted an overnight trip to climb Cirque Peak in the southern Sierras. This looked interesting to me and so I indicated I would go. I was looking forward to something new and meeting new people.

The plan was to meet at Horseshoe Meadow Campsite near Lone Pine at 8 AM. I got up very early at home and drove there on Saturday morning. The drive up Horseshoe Meadows Road was pretty dramatic. You could see it from 395 snaking up a steep incline, and the trip up was pretty and did not disappoint. I got to the parking lot of the campsite and saw someone who looked as if he was waiting for people and sure enough, Johnny was part of our group. Another gentleman showed up named Mario and he was going to hike with us as well. We were still waiting for our leader Eylene Pirez. She showed up shortly after with a young man named Sante Kotturi and his dog Sitka. Our group was assembled and we started up the Cottonwood Lakes trail.

This trip was an out-and-back of about twenty-two miles with about 3,500 feet in elevation change. There was some discussion about making it a loop but it was decided that we would make that choice on Sunday after summitting Cirque Peak. The trail up was pleasant and we all got to know each other a little bit. Johnny and Mario were sort of new to hiking and overnight camping. Eylene and Sante were clearly very experienced. We got about halfway and it started to rain. Shortly thereafter it started snowing but it was more like frozen rain. I was a bit surprised as the day started very sunny. The Eastern Sierras are notorious for afternoon showers and I guess I should not have been really too surprised. I figured it would let up in about ten or fifteen minutes, but it did not.

We got to the first Cottonwood Lake and hiked along the shore. The second Cottonwood Lake was close to the first and we then found an area out of the wind which was important in these seemingly wintry conditions. Everyone set up their tent and got out of the wind and frozen rain. I did not want to put my tent out and have my tent get all wet and then have to deal with that all night. So I decided to wait it out. I could see the blue sky in the cloud breaks. It had to end soon, or so I thought. I ended up waiting under a pine tree for close to two hours. There were a couple of moments where I thought maybe I would just hike out and call it a day.

I finally put my tent out and cleared off the snow down to the gravel so the floor of my tent would be dry.

I finally put my tent out and cleared off the snow down to the gravel so the floor of my tent would be dry.

Things cleared up quickly and we spent a fair amount of time hanging out. Sante had a drone and we played with that for a while. After dinner and some drinks, I called it and decided to sleep. It proved to be pretty cold. I had purchased a liner for my sleeping bag after the Mt. Whitney experience, and ended up pulling that out and using it sometime in the evening when it was clear my bag by itself was going to be cold.

Finally, morning arrived and we all got up and had some hot oatmeal. This was very welcomed. We had talked to some people the day before that had attempted the New Army Pass but there was a cornice that they could not get over. We headed towards Cirque Peak and ditched the trail pretty quickly as it was all snow. We just headed towards Cirque Peak to see how far we could get by going straight up it. There was a fair amount of snow interspersed in what was a rock field up a pretty steep incline. After some determination, we made it to the top. Mission accomplished despite not being the recommended route.

Summit conquered!

Summit conquered!

We headed down after enjoying the peak for about half an hour. We knew where our campsite was and just bushwhacked our way back. This required a river crossing that was way more exciting than it should have been. There was a lot of post-holing but at long last, we were back to our tents. We packed up and started down to our cars which was another eight miles. This took a while and I must confess that the last few miles were tough. I was ready to get back and sit on my ass. And at long last, that goal was achieved.

This was a good trip for me as I went to a place I probably would not have done on my own and met some really nice and interesting people.

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Real Christmas Trees

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Real Christmas Trees

Our family tradition has always been that the only acceptable Christmas tree was a real one. This was true when I was a kid and for a long time, I perpetuated this tradition and thinking, particularly when my kids were young. However, as time went on, the effort required to get and deal with a real Christmas tree became more and more burdensome.

This is our last real Christmas tree in 2016.

This is our last real Christmas tree in 2016.

About ten years ago, a work associate had conveyed to me that he had purchased a fake tree at a high-end nursery after the holidays. His approach was to get a really good tree but to do it after the season so he could get a good discount. He paid about $800 for a tree that normally costs close to $2000. The quality was first-rate. My initial reaction was purely emotional. How could anyone buy a fake tree? He then proceeded to provide me his logic for doing so which was largely based on it paying for itself after a handful of years and vastly improving the acquisition and disposal process. His argument was hard to push back against, but how could I possibly put up a FAKE tree?

Every year I would think about the rational logic my friend offered as to why a fake tree made more sense. I would dwell on it as I was driving home, hauling and setting the tree up. My arrangement with my wife is I would get the tree, set it up and put the lights on; I have always been very particular about lights which needed to be a lot of natural white lights. My wife would then decorate the tree with a vast collection of ornaments. When the holidays were over, she would take the ornaments off. Then it was my turn to finish the job which started by taking the lights off and disposing of the tree. I would often drag the tree out to the street and systematically take all the lights off to minimize the number of needles in the house and hopefully not ruin the strings of light. The trees were generally pretty dry by this point and needles typically would drop at a very high rate. The lights were wrapped round and round with a number of strings overlapping each other. Getting the lights off was always a general hassle. I would sometimes cut limbs to make the unwrapping of the lights a little easier. This strategy was marginally effective.

Needless to say, the real tree tradition was a lot of work. Not to mention expensive. Good trees are pricey in Southern California. We are lucky in that the ceiling height in our living room is about twelve feet. Getting anything less than an eight-foot tree just was not going to work. This size tree was generally extra expensive; always $100 at minimum and often around $150. We also had a couple of incidents where water leaked in the stand and through our tarp and other covers intended to protect our wooden floors from damage.

This year was a bit unique in that Thanksgiving was particularly early in the month, on November 23rd. My wife gets anxious within hours of Thanksgiving being over to start decorating for Christmas; this is her decorating Superbowl. Generally, she will do various items throughout the house and I try to stall on getting the tree so that by the time Christmas shows up, we do not have a completely dry tree and a bonfire waiting to happen. This year was especially challenging.

On top of it, she was having a work event with some employees at the house in early December. I stalled for about a week but then had to ask whether she was expecting to have the tree up and decorated for her co-workers. The answer was 'yes, of course'. So I went to Home Depot and Walmart to see what they had for fake trees and the options were pretty terrible. Good prices, but the trees were small and not of great quality. My father had mentioned that he had seen some good fake trees at his Lowe's. So I went there and sure enough, they had some high-end trees. One in particular, a Holiday Living nine-foot Hayden Pine, looked pretty good. The problem was that they did not have one on display and the price tag was almost $600.

I was also checking the real tree selections and this year it was looking like a tree was going to be about $150. The quality was just average. Now I am going back and forth in my head wondering if this is the year I pull the trigger on the fake tree. I was clearly straddling both sides of the fence; my first choice would be to pass on the whole thing. I sent a text to my family at large indicating that I might go with a fake tree this year. I received the expected response that it was a bad idea. At the last minute, my wife had a funeral she had to go to on the same day her work function was going to be and as a result, the need for a tree was pushed back a week. More time to continue my internal vacillation.

The following weekend arrived and it was time to 'get off the fence'. During the week, I think I had gotten over the emotional tug and tradition of a real tree. I told my wife she needed to take a look at the tree before I bought anything. I was not going to listen to her for the next ten years, as she really did not like the fake tree we purchased. She thought maybe one of the craft stores might have something and so we went to a few of them to catch their selection. There was one that was not bad, but it was really skinny and I could not pull the trigger on that one.

We then headed back to Lowe's to look at the one I had found and make sure she approved of this $600 acquisition. Their fake tree display was pretty impressive the week before, but when we arrived, the display was only a bunch of boxes and two trees for viewing. This was a little surprising since there were still about two weeks until Christmas. On the tree I had identified, there were two in boxes and on one, there was a flyer taped on the box for a smaller and considerably cheaper tree; $175. My wife and I briefly debated whether we were going to really do this. We both sort of knew the answer but this provided one last gut-check. I figured the true cost was going to be $450 this year as we would pay $150 for a real tree. In the fifth year, we would be 'making money'.

We loaded it on a flat dolly as it was big and pretty heavy. I told my wife we should go to the garden center and see what happens with the flyer. For some reason, I thought they might be less diligent in the garden center. We got in line and when it was our turn, the cashier walked out and looked at the far end where the flier was and seemed to be going with that pricing. Then he said, 'Oh this price is not the right amount'. I was sort of expecting that the wrong price on the flier would get figured out. Ultimately, I was prepared and willing to pay the full price. Surprisingly, the cashier then says, 'the right price is $135'. I did a bit of a double-take. However, pretty quickly I began to shove my wife out of the way with the box and dolly before she said anything that might change his new price declaration. I got the credit card out as fast as possible and began swiping before the real pricing became a possibility. I said to my wife why don't you start taking it to the car. The cashier asked me to sign and off we went to the car as fast as we could. I looked at my wife and we just laughed! Financially this could not have worked out any better. At this point, I almost did not care what the tree looked like.

We got home and I just could not believe we got this tree for probably a few bucks less than what we would have paid for a real tree. We hauled the tree in and opened the box. The tree is four pieces and we carefully pulled each out. I read the pretty straightforward instructions; plug in the base and start stacking the appropriate pieces on top. It went together quickly and when we turned it on, the 1,4450 built-in lights were spectacular. My traditional obligation of erecting the tree and getting the lights on was done in short order. My wife then proceeded to decorate with some help at the top of the tree which she found hard to reach. I put the star on and WOW!. This was a great-looking tree. I was a convert. My fifty years of clinging to the tradition of real trees had vaporized.

A quick fake tree convert! I think it looks pretty good in this picture, but in person it is just about perfect.

A quick fake tree convert! I think it looks pretty good in this picture, but in person it is just about perfect.

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Rhode Island, Massachusetts and New York

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Rhode Island, Massachusetts and New York

I flew to Boston for two reasons. The first was to knock out the state high points of New England that I had not ever done previously despite living there for twenty-plus years, and the second was to spend time at my favorite place.

I landed at Logan around 8 PM and got my rental car which was a Nissan Rogue; much better than the sedan I had earlier for my other peak bagging trip this summer. I drove to Killingly, CT and found a cheap motel. I woke up bright and early, grabbed some Dunkin’ Donuts which is what one does in New England, and drove to Jerimoth Hill, the high point in Rhode Island. Within fifteen minutes I arrived and started to hike to the high point. Boom! I made it to the marker in about two minutes. I took my requisite pictures at the ‘summit’. I looked around to take it in and then left and got back to my car. I had recorded it on my All Trails app and the entire trip was just over eight minutes in total. From an ease perspective, very memorable, but that was about it. Rhode Island checked off.

The craziest part was that I got in my hiking clothes for this one.

The craziest part was that I got in my hiking clothes on the side of the road for this one.

I then started to drive northwest toward Mount Greylock which is Massachusetts’ high point. This was through familiar territory for me as I was born and raised in Connecticut. By about eleven, I arrived in Adams and made my way to the Bellows South trailhead. This hike was a five-mile out-and-back and 2,244 feet of elevation. The day was overcast and looked like it might rain. I headed up and the trail was quite nice. Definitely in the woods with very few vistas. This is pretty much the condition in the Northeast. I made it to the top to discover that you can drive to the top. I was greeted in the parking lot by three school buses and a horde of school kids. There is a fair amount of infrastructure at the top culminating in a very impressive granite Veterans’ War Memorial tower. I definitely checked it out but opted not to go up it as there was a fair number of people in there. I went down to a lookout and enjoyed the scenery of the Berkshire mountains. It was nice, but I then decided to get back down. Within short order, I was back at my car.

The pinnacle of Mount Greylock is quite impressive. I salute the service and the ultimate sacrifice of others.

The pinnacle of Mount Greylock is quite impressive. I salute the service and the ultimate sacrifice of others.

I grabbed a Subway sandwich in downtown Adams and then headed towards Mount Marcy in New York. I arrived in Lake Placid after a pleasant drive. I spotted the road into the Van Hoevenberg trailhead which I had planned to take and seemed to be the most popular route. However, I wanted to find a place to stay first. I worked my way into Lake Placid and saw the skiing facilities including the impressive ski jump ramps which are remarkably close to the road. There were no great motel options so I went back closer to the road to the trailhead and found a very funky motel that was going to work. I drove into the trailhead so I would not have to do it for the first time in the dark the following day as I planned for a 6 AM start. Everything looked pretty straightforward and so I went back to the motel and watched some crappy TV options and went to bed.

I woke up in the morning and it was pretty gray. The weather forecast was a little iffy but I was going to forge ahead as I could not waste time waiting for good weather. When I arrived at the trailhead at about 6:30 AM, things were pretty busy already. I finalized my gear, signed in and started up the trail. This hike is a 14-mile out-and-back with about 3,500 feet in elevation gain. The first part of the hike was pretty flat and nice. I arrived at a river with a bridge that was out. There was a slight detour. The trail at this point began to climb as it followed a stream. After a little while, there was a hard right-hand turn that was not particularly obvious, and with the assistance of someone else heading up the wrong way through the woods, I was able to figure out where the trail was. The climb started getting a little more serious and the trail became wetter. The wind also started picking up and there was constant mist growing stronger into rain. I finally got to what a ranger doing some trail work had indicated was close to the top. Two trail runners came down to say it was very windy and wet. Sure enough, they were right. I made it to the top and found a place out of the wind. My fingers were cold and wet enough that I was having a hard time getting my phone to turn on through the fingerprint swipe. I could not find any recognition of the top which I was clearly at because there was nowhere to go further up. Regrettably, I did not investigate what the official marker was for Mount Marcy before the hike, so I did not know what I should be looking for. At the time, my conclusion was that maybe this high point did not have an official marker. So the result is that the only picture I have at the top is me in the clouds and I could honestly be anywhere.

I could not find an official marker on Mount Marcy. Unfortunately I looked into where the plaque was after coming down, only to find that I was very close. The plaque was on the windy side of the peak which I was avoiding.

I could not find an official marker on Mount Marcy. Unfortunately, I looked into where the plaque was after coming down, only to find that I was very close. The plaque was on the windy side of the peak which I was avoiding.

After about fifteen minutes on top, I had enough. I was the only one at the peak so I could not ask anyone about a marker. I saw two guys coming down as I went up and then as I was coming down off the rocky portion, there were some teenagers working their way up the last portion. The wet rock at the top coming down was a little tricky. Once I was back on the trail portion, I was in a rush to get down because I wanted to get to Mount Mansfield in Vermont and try to get that done today. The Van Hevenberg trail was one of the wettest and muddiest trails I have been on in quite a while. After what seemed like a really long two and a half hours coming down, I made it back to the car a little after 2 PM. I was happy to be done with that hike but pissed that I did not get a more meaningful and conclusive picture at the top.

I motored east toward Vermont. My thought is I would try to knock this last hike out today as I wanted to get to my place in Maine. I found a trail called the Hellbrook that was a little under four miles but very steep. This seemed to be easily the best option for the limited time that I had. After about an hour of driving, I realized that Lake Champlain was going to interfere with my ‘as the crow flies’ hope for getting there early. I drove south and around Lake Champlain as the ferry seemed would be much slower. I drove and I was getting close by six-ish. I had not realized that Mount Mansfield was also the Stowe ski resort. This time of year all the leaf peepers were in full force. The area was quite busy. I finally made it to the trailhead and started up, but by now it was 7 PM. I went for about fifteen minutes and the trail was steep as advertised, but lots of roots and slippery rocks. I knew I would be coming down in the dark. This trail in the dark was going to be rough so I headed back which was very disappointing. If only I had gotten there an hour earlier.

My plan was now to find a place to sleep and attack the mountain in the morning. I drove around for about an hour trying about twenty motels and everything was booked solid. I finally gave up and decided I would just drive to Maine tonight. This was very disappointing, but at some point, I will go back and get this one. I might also do Mount Marcy again in hopes of getting a picture that shows the plaque in the rock at the top of the mountain which I had to have been within about fifty feet of, but could not find.

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Redemption - Bagging Mt. Whitney

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Redemption - Bagging Mt. Whitney

Everybody loves a redemption story and it is especially meaningful when you live it. As previously documented in this journal, my son and I tried to climb Mt. Whitney last year. I will not recount the shortcomings of this effort here, but I will summarize that trip as optimistic and overly ambitious. Needless to say, I wanted another shot at it!

There is nothing like getting the lay of the land to build some confidence which was certainly the result of the first attempt. After that experience, the next attempt would be different. The first change is that we would do it within the permit window. I put my request into the lottery system within minutes of the window opening up. I requested an overnight permit in September. My thinking was that doing an overnight broke the hike up into two pieces thus improving our chances of success. Second, September seemed an ideal time in that it was certainly better than November when we first tried, but also it would be clear of snow and still somewhat warm.

Unfortunately my lottery request was rejected. They offered up days where there were still openings, and I quickly elected an overnight permit starting Monday, September 25th to the following day on the 26th. That it was a weekday did not bother me whatsoever. I just wanted a second chance. And my son would miss some school, but in my mind, these two days were going to be significantly more meaningful to his ‘education’ than any days in a classroom.

My son and I checked out the Mobius Arch again in the Alabama Hills. We took the obligatory photo with Mt. Whitney in the background.

My son and I checked out the Mobius Arch again in the Alabama Hills. We took the obligatory photo with Mt. Whitney in the background.

Finally the day arrived to leave for Lone Pine. We had all our equipment and were ready to climb Whitney. We drove up on Sunday and spent the night in a motel. We woke up at a sane hour unlike the year before, had breakfast, packed up and headed to Whitney Portal. We had met some other people at the motel who were climbing as well. We then met them in the Whitney Portal parking lot. One of them would be with us for the majority of our trip. We got everything together at about nine-ish, we started our journey. We showed our permit to the ranger and away we go!

It was nice to start on a sunny day and we were feeling good. We worked our way up over the next couple of hours to High Camp where we had planned to spend the night. This was the highest point on the mountain where you could camp legally. We were a little anxious about getting a spot, but we showed up early in the afternoon and had our pick of spots. We spent some time thinking about finding a spot out of the wind. We ended up with a really good place.

This seemed to be about as ideal as we could do from a wind perspective. We built a wall around the tent as well. Cold was one thing, but add wind to it and I thought we might be in trouble. The wind never came.

This seemed to be about as ideal as we could do from a wind perspective. We built a wall around the tent as well. Cold was one thing, but adding wind to it and I thought we might be in trouble. The wind never came.

We had a lot of free time and did some exploring. We spoke to someone who told us that the previous night had gotten so cold that people got up in the middle of the night and headed down the mountain. This was both alarming to me and a little stupid. Our sleeping bags were three-season rated to the mid-twenties. It seemed that we should be fine, but we were definitely a little nervous. We spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring, resting and enjoying the nice weather.

As evening approached, our plan was to stay up and out of the tent for a while so we were good and tired when it was time to go to bed. The sun was setting behind the mountain so it got dark early. By six the sun was gone. There were people standing around talking and we did this for a while. The temperature really dropped quickly and we really did not have heavy jackets like some of the other people. They had definitely thought through this part of the experience. After about half an hour, we decided to get into the tent, stay warm and do some reading and look at our phones. Although I was worried about my battery and did not want to run out of battery so we could not take pictures at the top, that would have been a fate worse than death. We had decided maybe we should put on a fair amount of clothing in our sleeping bags to stay as warm as possible.

Finally we went to sleep. However it only lasted for a few hours. It was definitely cold. I could feel my feet getting cold. We slept back-to-back as that was helpful. When we were in town the day before, the local hiking store had sleeping bag liners for rent which I thought about for a moment but did not get. I thought about those liners all night wishing I had pulled the trigger. Only my nose was sticking out of my bag and I could feel the cold air in my lungs. We tossed and turned the rest of the night waiting for the next day to arrive. It seemed as though it would never come.

Finally we could see a little light through the tent and we began to hear others rustle around. Shortly we mustered the energy to get up and start to get ready. We scrambled around and got ready. We were pretty much dressed so much of the effort was about getting the blood flowing. We ate some food, put things away so the Marmots and Chipmunks would not get into our stuff. I did my morning business which horrified my son but was necessary. We were as ready as we were going to be. A bunch of people had already headed up. And so we started for the peak.

The infamous Chains. This area on our first attempt was all snow and ice. There were only single foot prints to walk in and a very steep snow field down to the right. It was a deciding factor for turning back last year.

The infamous Chains. This area on our first attempt was all snow and ice. There were only single foot prints to walk in and a very steep snow field down to the right. It was a deciding factor for turning back last year.

We had a clear day and there was very little wind. We could not ask for much more. The conditions were about the exact opposite of what we had the previous year. And so we began our march toward the 99 switchbacks. We worked our way up to Trail Crest pretty quickly. This was a milestone as it was where we turned back last year.

We rested a little at Trail Crest. The view was amazing both from where we came from, but also Mt. Hitchcock and the Hitchcock lakes were very impressive on the other side. We had also met up with the friend we made at the motel and the three of us started our push to the top.

There were some pretty dramatic drop-offs and views particularly in the first portion of the trail. We slogged our way past the needles. This portion was definitely taxing on our bodies. The trail itself was not particularly hard but the altitude began to be felt in a serious way. We pressed on. You work your way across the backside and you can see the top. There is an area where it turns hard to the right and you are at the last portion. When you can really see the Shelter at the top in a real way, you know you are going to make it.

The best part of this was doing it with my son. A close second was redemption after failing the first time.

The best part of this was doing it with my son. A close second was redemption after failing the first time.

It was not a sprint, but there was a point where we knew we were going to make it and the pace for the last few hundred yards definitely picked up. Finally, this peak was officially bagged! What a great feeling. At least a year in the making and really longer when the notion of making this attempt first cropped up in my mind.

The weather at the top was about as perfect as I think it could be; sunny, little wind and a very comfortable temperature. We spent about a half-hour soaking it all in. The views were pretty amazing. I remember thinking that I really needed to absorb it so I could remember it. My efforts to save battery life up to this point paid off and we documented all aspects of the top. I am glad we did because I rely on those pictures to really recall the experience. After a while, we realized that we were only halfway done and that we needed to get going. And so after some reflection, we headed down.

Going down is always the hardest part for me from a physical perspective. We were moving at a good pace and got back to Trail Crest relatively quickly. This portion of the trail is pretty dramatic. Although the very last part of it you have to go back up, and while it was not really hard, going down was the mindset I had locked into. I again attempted to really soak it in and make it stick in my memory banks. We headed down the 99 switchbacks and back to our tent. We packed up our camp, ate some food and did some stretching to get ready for the last push. We worked our way down noting each spot that we had seen on the way up and the previous year. The first year we screwed up on the way down at Lone Pine Lake and made sure not to make that mistake again.

Victory!

Victory!

Finally we made it back to the parking lot and our car. Wow, what a feeling. We were parked next to a van with a couple in it who were going to leave in the evening. They wanted to know what it was like. With the success and the trip in the rear-view mirror, the only thing I could say was ‘it was great’.

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Southern California's Six-Pack Peak Challenge

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Southern California's Six-Pack Peak Challenge

This spring I was looking at Instagram and ran across a posting talking about the Six-Pack Peak Challenge. This looked interesting to me. There was a whole website that had a fair amount of information about the challenge. Interesting and challenge accepted! There was also a suggestion that it was good preparation for climbing Mount Whitney. I had secured a permit for the middle of September and I was not going to fail to summit the continental 48’s highest peak again. The site had prescribed a specific order, but I sort of did a variation.

This portion is a bit after the Devil’s Backbone but I think really shows the majesty of this mountain.

This portion is a bit after the Devil’s Backbone but I think really shows the majesty of this mountain.

5/27/17 - The first of the six was Mount Baldy and it turned out to be a great mountain to start this challenge. From Manker Campground and the Mount Baldy Trailhead, I headed up the access road to the top where the Ski Resort is and the lodge at the top. From there you bang a left and go up the Devil’s Backbone and then on to the top. This portion, particularly right after the ski resort is some real work, but it is quite a nice tail.

I had people in front and back but they were at distances. This being Memorial Day weekend, I thought I would see a lot more people on the trail. There was a pretty healthy accumulation of people at the peak. There were some patches of snow still on the way up which caught me a little by surprise. We had a pretty dry winter and it seemed pretty warm for a while and I would have guessed it was all gone.

The top was nice and had good views. I spent some time up there resting a little and soon headed down the Ice Hut Trail. With all the traffic this mountain gets including a fairly high ‘yahoo’ factor, the trail was all over the place and the conditions were a bit rough with lots of loose gravel. This was particularly challenging for going down. Despite that, I really liked this hike.

The official peak bagging picture.

The official peak bagging picture.

7/22/17 - I decided I would try to get back on the recommended order of mountains (lowest to highest) and climbed Mt. Wilson. I let some time go between this hike and in late July decided I would start banging them out. With my Mt. Whitney hike in September, I wanted to wait a little so I would be in shape for this goal. There are a number of suggestions to make this climb when it is cool like Winter. Today was not cool.

There is a loop option for this hike and I opted for the counter-clockwise route. You start at Chantry Flats and head down a paved road. This situation did not work for me; I never like going down when you are supposed to be going up. To start the hike with this was less than ideal and the down was somewhat significant. I knew I would be cursing it as I was ending the hike.

At the bottom, I went right and headed up the Gabrielino Trail and then to the lower Gabrielino Trail. The area in here was very curious as there were cottages, campgrounds and dams. This area was heavily wooded and quite pleasant. You then head to the Sturtevant Trail. There is a fair amount of infrastructure in this area and it is clear that it gets a fair amount of traffic. The hike to the top is very pleasant, but it is not until you get to the very top that you start to see views.

There is no real obvious peak on Mount Wilson, but this was the most official thing I could find. It was at the end of a parking lot which does not really provide a rewarding peak bagging experience.

There is no real obvious peak on Mount Wilson, but this was the most official thing I could find. It was at the end of a parking lot which does not really provide a rewarding peak bagging experience.

When you get to the top, it is a bit of a city. There are a number of large observatories and countless communication towers. There is a museum that I went through and that was kind of interesting. I checked out the observatories and then made my way to the Cosmic Cafe. You then discover that you apparently can drive to the top which makes sense with respect to getting all the infrastructure up there. I saw a few cars but it appears that most people were riding their bikes up there. I worked my way to the parking lot that had the best views of Los Angeles. From there the Mount Wilson Trail went down and it was a reasonably good trail. I finally got down to the access road where I had to walk up which was a slug. I finally got back to the car. It was pretty hot and I was very sweaty. This was just an okay hike. I am glad I did it, but I am not sure I would do it again.

7/29/17 - The following weekend I climbed Mt. Cucamonga. The best part of this trip is that my youngest, and Mt. Whitney climbing partner, came with me. I had to pressure him into it as preparation for the big hike ahead. We went up the Icehouse Canyon Trail. This was just down the road from Mount Baldy. This was a very pleasant out-and-back with good scenery and views at the top. I would definitely do this one again.

My son Ben and I on the Peak of Cucamonga.

My son Ben and I on the Peak of Cucamonga.

9/10/17 - I went on vacation and when I got back, it was time to get serious. I decided to climb San Jacinto next. I decided I would hike up from Idyllwild. I went up Deer Spring Trail to the top and down the Wellman Divide Trail on the way down. San Jacinto has the best scenery at the top. The view of Palm Springs and San Gorgonio is spectacular. So far this was easily my favorite. Views on the way down were quite good as well. There was a stretch as well where you are on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) which is a challenge I think about quite a bit.

I really liked this hike and mountain. The views East, North and South were amazing.

I really liked this hike and mountain. The views East, North and South were amazing.

9/18/17 - The following weekend I climbed San Gorgonio in preparation for Mt. Whitney. San Gorgonio is the tallest in Southern California and is supposed to be the last hike of the Six-Pack Peak Challenge. This one is an out-and-back and definitely was a lot of work. I started at Mill Creek and then to Vivian Creek and to the top; this is the only way I know up the mountain. There is a very steep climb early on after crossing the Mill Creek wash. This was not bad going up but on the way down, my legs were screaming. The last third of the trail on the way up was a slug and there were a few times I thought I was at the top and was not. The top of the mountain is exposed and in an alpine environment. It was quite nice despite spending most of this time gasping for air. This was a long hike and definitely worked me. San Gorgonio was good preparation for Whitney.

The top! This one took a while.

The top! This one took a while.

11/25/17 - I felt compelled to complete the challenge and so I climbed San Bernardino late in the season. This was a really nice hike and quite enjoyable.

This was a nice hike and in some ways the trail itself was better than the view at the top.

This was a nice hike and in some ways the trail itself was better than the view at the top.

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Pine Island Camp - A Wonderful and Privileged Experience

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Pine Island Camp - A Wonderful and Privileged Experience

Pine Island Camp is a boys’ camp located in Belgrade Lakes, Maine. The camp is the second-oldest operating camp in the United States, established in 1902. I am third-generation, and my kids are fourth-generation. Pretty remarkable. The camp is on a small island where some one hundred people live every summer with no running water, no electricity (slight modification on this fact) for boys who come from across the entire globe, but primarily the Northeast. The camp offers many activities but is first and foremost a tripping camp sending hiking and canoeing trips out across Maine and New Hampshire.

This type of picture has been created every summer for many years. You will find me in the back row on the right. I wish I could of found a picture from one of my later years as I was still pretty dorky in 1982. What are you going to do? The first c…

This type of picture has been created every summer for many years. You will find me in the back row on the right. I wish I could have found a picture from one of my later years as I was still pretty dorky in 1982. What are you going to do? The first couple of years were a lot of fun, but I would start hitting my stride in the following years.

I noticed that the camp on their website indicates that it offers ‘summers that shape a lifetime’. I would completely agree with that, particularly for me. My six years at Pine Island Camp were the most formative experience of my youth. I look at three experiences that impacted me beyond my general upbringing: college, high school and Pine Island Camp. Each of these had an impact and all were pretty good, but Pine Island definitely pushed me the most. In 1983 I was merely a senior in high school and amongst other things, led seven boys on Senior Whites. This trip is the big hiking trip at the end of the year and is seven days in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. When I look back at that, I am not sure the person I am today would let my 1983 self lead this trip, particularly if I apply the perspective of the kids that went with me and getting permission from their parents. They would take one look at me and probably reflexively respond with a resounding NO! And yet I did it amongst a number of other trips that year.

Monte Ball was the camp director for my six years. He is a remarkable man and my successes at Pine Island were to a large degree, the result of his confidence in me. Why he trusted me is not altogether clear, but clearly he did. I certainly did not appreciate or understand it at the time, but his impact on my experience is crystal clear to me now.

Monte is a unique character. He was a camper during a couple of years when my father was a camper in the 50’s. There was definitely some built-in history that was to my advantage. In 1981, Monte came to our house in West Hartford. I was fifteen at the time. After the visit, he said I could be a Counselor-In-Training (CIT). I believe this was largely the result of his relationship with my father and grandfather because I was at least one year, and really two years too young. When I got to camp, my age as compared to other CITs was somewhat glaring. Making things even worse, there were other campers the same age as I was; hard to remember but I think a couple were older than me. Somewhere in the middle of that summer, I got tagged with the name ‘Camper Doug’. That one stuck for a couple of years.

Monte Ball, Ken Howe and Tom Mcfee were the directors of the camp during the majority of my six years. They were a good team and everyone had a great deal of respect for them all.

Monte Ball, Ken Howe and Tom McFee were the directors of the camp during the majority of my six years. They were a good team and everyone had a great deal of respect for them all.

Monte definitely pushed everyone to make the most out of their summers. Whether you were in camp or out on a trip, caring for these boys was a tremendous responsibility; even though at the time I was not sure I really realized the magnitude of it all. Monte was a force to be reckoned with and was really the heartbeat of the camp. There were legendary stories of things he did and I was a participant in a couple of them. I would attempt to convey them here, but I think that unless you went to PIC you really would not appreciate them. Thank you Monte Ball!

There were numerous memorable events and trips that made up my six years as a counselor at PIC. Most trips we went on were memorable for either good or bad things that occurred during the trip. The first trip I ever went on was called Big Flag which was both a hiking and canoeing trip on Flagstaff Lake and Mount Bigelow. Generally there were two groups that started on either end of the trip and we would switch in the middle going from canoeing to hiking or vice versa. We had started with canoeing. On the first day as we were just about to land at our first camping spot, a camper named Frank Petito took his fishing rod out to get a couple of casts in and managed to hook another camper, Chris Quinn right under his thumbnail. This turned into a huge issue. Chris would not let us get the hook out. The following day, some locals drove down to our campsite to collect driftwood. We asked him to drive a counselor and Chris to the Emergency Room. This guy clearly did not want to do it and asked Chris if he could look at it before they left. Chris cautiously showed him his hand with the lure dangling from his thumb. The man had grabbed some pliers while no one was looking, grabbed Chris’ wrist and yanked out the hook. Chris screamed in pain and shortly after yelled thank you umpteen times through many tears.

The following year I went on Senior Whites as the assistant trip leader. I remember this was a really good trip, but the thing I remember the most is singing the song Hotel California by the Eagles with Chris Seymour over and over. I now shudder to think how many times we sang that song over a seven-day period. With the exception of one other camper, David Farr who participated in singing on and off, all the other campers and our trip leader were annoyed beyond belief. I also went on a trip called the Saco River this year which is a bit of a lazy three-day float down one of Maine’s most popular rivers, known mostly for tubing and drinking. There were a bunch of rope swings and it was a fun few days. The trip leader was a guy named Jack Barden who was a very easy-going southerner. He and I slept in the same tent and he had this scar that ran nearly the entire length of his torso which was the result of open-heart surgery he had a few years earlier. I was just floored by the size of it and thought they must have had him opened up in the most significant way.

When you come down Pamola Peak, there is a giant rock that juts out and just begs for a picture.

When you come down Pamola Peak, there is a giant rock that juts out and just begs for a picture.

The following year I went on the Mt. Katahdin trip. This would quickly become my favorite trip. There is a bunkhouse in amongst a number of lean-tos at the Chimney Pond campsite. This was located inside the ‘horseshoe’ like enclosure of the mountain. The views here are magnificent. PIC would get the bunkhouse every year for four nights and we would climb and descend the mountain three or four times during those days. After this first time up, I would angle to get this trip for the next three seasons. Mt. Katahdin was easily my favorite trip.

On a trip called Mt. Abrams, I may have had my best moment as a trip leader. This hike was a three-day trip for the smaller kids. I remember taking this one out a couple of times. You would hike up to this old abandoned cabin in a little clearing. There was definitely a scary component to this location. I remember kids swearing that a man and his dog came in one night while we were all sleeping. One year as we were coming back down on the last day to be picked up, there was a commotion in the back of our line. I stopped and went back to see what was happening and one boy named Dickie Dilworth had fallen backward while crossing a stream. He was screaming in pain. I pulled him up and it was clear his arm had broken. He apparently put his arm behind him to break the fall, and snap. I jumped into action, straightened it, got an ace bandage and wrapped it up. I then took four sticks, evenly spaced them around his arm and then duct-taped the crap out of his arm. We got back to camp some hours later. I think Dickie and the camp nurse went straight to Waterville and the emergency room. I recall being told my ‘field dressing’ was quite good and that his arm would have been really screwed up otherwise. Dickie had some noteworthiness in that he was the grandson of the two-time Mayor of Philadelphia.

We took a detour to go as far up the Horse Races as we could. We spent a little more than a day doing this and it was a lot of fun.

We took a detour to go as far up the Horse Races as we could. We spent a little more than a day doing this and it was a lot of fun.

Among many memorable trips, Senior Canoe I had taken I believe in 1986 was a standout. We were headed north to an area of Maine just west of Mt. Katahdin. This was a good group of kids and my brother and a good friend, Will Clyde were my assistant trip leaders. Who you are with definitely can make a trip good or bad. This was definitely good. We put in on the West Branch Penobscot River just below Seboomook Lake. We spent about two days going down the river until it dumps into Chesuncook. This stretch was a lot of fun and pretty easy with a good flow of the river with intermittent rapids. We had some time so we went to a place called the Horse Races near Black Pond. This was very shallow but a lot of fun. We practiced poling which I think is a lost art in canoeing. We returned to Chesuncook and happened to have the wind at our back for much of the next couple of days. We found a rock outcrop that allowed for a fun jump. One night we found an abandoned cabin which was pretty cool and provided a good option. We spend out days lashing our canoes together in two teams sailing and racing down Chesuncook. We had great weather the whole time. You can bring a lot of good food on canoe trips. This was a good one.

This was a good crew. I can’t name everyone but I remember (back row) Dan Hollnagel, my brother Ben, Will Clyde, Darby?, ? Brewer, and in front, John Fitchorn, Jonathan Edwards and Marty and Charlie Hale.

This was a good crew. I can’t name everyone but I remember (back row) Dan Hollnagel, my brother Ben, Will Clyde, Darby?, ? Brewer, and in front, John Fitchorn, Jonathan Edwards and Marty and Charlie Hale.

One of the most important aspects of Pine Island is an event that takes place at the end of the camp season called the War Games. This has been something the camp has done for nearly its entire 100+ year history. The camp is divided into two armies, Blues versus the Grays. This of course is to be a recreation of the Civil War. And in the ’80s, that history was played up quite a bit. There was always a strong contingent of campers and staff from the south, many from Greenville, South Carolina where Monte ran a private school called Christ Church. This elevated the North versus South energy of this event. Today, I believe this is not quite the focus it once was in our more politically correct world. Where the camp theme is generally unity, this is a brief moment in the summer where things are divided in two, and quite literally a Civil War. The game is primarily strategy with a fair amount of physical exertion, but no contact. The whole thing is a big deal. My grandfather had been a victorious Gray General in the ’40s or ’50s. Despite living all my life in the Northeast, I was in the Gray Army. If any of your family has been in an army previously, you are in the same army. New kids get divvied up to hopefully have a balanced number of soldiers. In 1984 and 1985 I was the Gray General. This is generally reserved for senior staff and it was my turn. The Blue General my year was Ned Bishop. he was a bit older than I was and had won the previous year. I had known the winter before that I was likely to be General the following year and spent the majority of that time planning. I was a little obsessed with winning and had developed a unique plan that I thought would be quite effective. Long story short, I beat Ned which was a bit of an upset. The following year, the Blue General was Whit Fisher who was one of my best friends. He was a good deal smarter than I was and my new plan had been seen and experienced the previous year. I was nervous about being able to repeat. I also created this arbitrary desire for the Farquhar Family to be undefeated as Gray Army Generals. I was able to win my second year as well. I take some pride in these victories. My brother became General a few years later and he won as well. We are 4-0. I had hoped one of my sons would become a counselor and maybe a General as well. Maybe extend that perfect record. No such luck and the prospects are fading quickly.

Maybe some of the best times I had at PIC were not even during the camp season. Often you could come early and stay late for work crews. There was a never-ending list of maintenance and rehabilitation that needed to occur on the island. We would generally work all day and then go out and have fun! Some of the more memorable times occurred after camp. They generally involved alcohol and youthful exuberance out and about in Maine! Dinners at the Last Unicorn, trips to the Skowhegan Fair, crazy trips back to the island at late hours on the Rockwell. Those days I remember with great fondness.

Maybe the most important aspect of this experience was the lifetime friends that I made. I can think of about twenty people who, if I called them to get together, would go out of their way to make it happen. And when we met, it would instantly be like old times, despite the thirty-plus years that have transpired. There was something about the summer days spent together and the experiences we all went through that creates a life-long bond. I suspect most people have some similar experience from their youth that creates a bond and some wistful recollection of youth, but I like to think that summers at Pine Island Camp were particularly special. And during the past thirty years, I have seen many of PIC’ers on and off. Akka Lakka!

This was a gathering of alumni in Fall of 2014 to do some upkeep on The Thomas Schultz Memorial Kopa Kababa. Tom was a fellow camper and counselor who died in the PanAm 103 bombing and many of his friends rebuilt a bunkhouse in his name.

This was a gathering of alumni in Fall of 2014 to do some upkeep on The Thomas Schultz Memorial Kopa Kababa. Tom was a fellow camper and counselor who died in the PanAm 103 bombing and many of his friends rebuilt a bunkhouse in his name.

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Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Arizona Highpoints

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Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Arizona Highpoints

I work for a company based in Austin, Texas. I decided that I would drive home to California and climb four high points on the way home. I usually fly, but this provided an opportunity to knock out some state high points. My plan was to climb Guadalupe Mountain in Texas, then Mount Wheeler in New Mexico, backtrack a little to bag Black Mesa in Oklahoma and then finish up with Mount Humphrey in Arizona. Lots of driving!

This hike was surprisingly nice. When you think Texas, you don’t think Mountains. Guadalupe is definitely a real mountain.

This hike was surprisingly nice. When you think Texas, you don’t think Mountains. Guadalupe is definitely a real mountain.

I left work in Austin on June 29th at about four in the afternoon and started driving West. I work in North Austin so getting out of the metropolis was pretty easy and in short order, I was driving roads that had little to no traffic. For the next few hours, I enjoyed the vastness that is Texas. As the sun began to set, I began to enter West Texas and the oil and gas rigs started becoming more and more plentiful. For the next couple of hours, the orange glow and haze that our country’s energy demands have created was something of a hellish landscape or some apocalyptic movie scene.

I was not sure where I was going to sleep so I decided to drive to the trailhead for Guadalupe to get a lay of the land. When I arrived, there was not much around. I decided to drive to the closest town which was about thirty miles away and in New Mexico. I found a motel, spent a little time prepping for the morning and then went to bed.

I woke up the next morning pretty early and drove back to the trailhead. Things looked a lot better in daylight than in the darkness the night before. There was a young man, Romero, who was getting ready to climb as well. So we teamed up and climbed together. He was a student at the University of Houston who had an internship in the oil and gas industry and was living in a trailer about forty miles southwest.

The trail was quite good, challenging but not terribly difficult. We made good time and before long, made it to the top. The views were great and I was pleasantly surprised by the Texas high point. There was quite a marker at the top; it looked maybe like American Airlines contributed to the installation. We made it down pretty quickly which was good because the temperature was definitely rising pretty quickly. I said my good-byes to Romero and was anxious to start driving north to Wheeler Peak.

The trip north was visually interesting. Early on I passed the Carlsbad Caverns which I would have really liked to visit, but I did not have the time. Southeast New Mexico is very arid and what little human development there was certainly was not visually nice and the area appears to be broadly impoverished. I did drive through Roswell which is noteworthy from a pop-culture perspective, but it had a fair amount to be desired. I saw no life from other worlds, but the life I did see was somewhat alien. The farther I got north, the better things got. Santa Fe was nice and I finally got to Taos about five in the evening. I was able to have a casual evening, get a good rest and be ready for an early morning departure.

I woke up before daylight, grabbed a quick breakfast at the hotel and started heading to the ski resort parking lot. Halfway up the access road, there was an older gentleman with his thumb out so I picked him up. He was a consultant to the ski resort from Vermont and was looking to make the same climb. This was good because he knew where he was going. We started hiking and things were good. The area was very pretty. My new friend was not particularly fast and he told me to go on with him after about a half-mile. The beginning of the trail was fairly easy and in the woods. After a couple of miles, we really started heading up and got out of the treeline. The trail became steep and was a series of switchbacks. There was a little snow here and there, a fair amount of loose rock, but the trail was pretty good and the scenery was great on a crystal blue morning. After a few hours, I made it to the top. There was a fair number of hikers. The view from the top was really nice. I spent about thirty minutes up there and started heading down. I met my early morning travel buddy on the way down.

The official top and definitely one of my favorite high points so far.

The official top and definitely one of my favorite high points so far.

I made it down pretty quickly but it definitely beat me up some. The last mile was rough and I had a little trouble finding my car in the parking lot which made things that much more painful. I was happy to get out my hiking clothes, get in the car and start heading to Black Mesa in Oklahoma. I stopped in Taos again and grabbed a burger. I ate it in the restaurant. In time I would wish that I got something to go.

My plan now was to get as close as I could to Black Mesa and then hike it in the morning. I headed down out of the Carson National Forest toward Eagle Nest. The scenery was great and as I got into Eagle Nest, it had gotten quite dark and poured. This area was really nice and I suspect it was a little bit of a hidden gem for the area’s summer vacationers. I motored on. After a couple of hours, I finally made it into Oklahoma. I had gone through several small towns and eyed motels I could stay at. It was starting to get late but I figured I would see how close I could get and then go back to the closest motel.

Around a quarter of seven, I was essentially at Black Mesa, which was really in the middle of nowhere. Finding the trailhead was difficult. My GPS was not cooperating. There were also some comments that GPS took you to the wrong place. I found a Bed and Breakfast that seemed to house hikers. I knocked on their door to see if they had space and any details on the hike. Unfortunately, no one answered despite it looking like there were people there. So I headed out on the main road and found a person riding a bike. They indicated the trailhead was a bit further down. So I figured I would drive to the trailhead, and in short order, I was there. It was seven on the dot and the sun was setting. All Trails indicated it was about nine miles out and back and the trail was moderate. And based on the surroundings which were rolling hills with scattered Mesas that were a few hundred feet high, I thought I could make good time. Could I do it in a little over two hours? Or so I thought.

So I got my gear on quickly and headed out at a brisk pace. The trail was easy but four-plus miles as the sun is setting quickly proved to be long. The scenery was quite nice and besides the cows, I pretty much had the place to myself. After a couple of miles, I finally got to the Mesa and started to climb. Pretty much during the first two miles, I was certain I knew what had to be the high point, but I was wrong a few times. When I got to the top of the Mesa, it was very flat and I thought I must be pretty close. Wrong! The high point proved to be two miles across and on the other side of the Mesa. I found it very frustrating. Where the hell was that monument? At long last, I could see it. I was doing intermittent jogging to go faster. And at long last I made it.

Black Mesa Oklahoma

Finally the marker!

My hope was to get to the edge of the Mesa before the sun went down. Mission accomplished, but the rest of the trip back to my car was at best twilight, if not dark. I could hear a fox or a coyote following me for a while. This is after I sort of bumped into some stray cows after coming off the Mesa and they let it be known that they saw me with a fair number of moos. At long last, I made it back to my car at about 9:45 PM. I quickly changed into some driving gear and headed back to the closest town to see if I could get a room.

Coming down of Black Mesa, the sunset in the distance was pretty good.

Coming down of Black Mesa, the sunset in the distance was pretty good.

I was feeling pretty good about myself as I worked my way back through some pretty remote prairie and farmland in the Westernmost portion of Oklahoma. Two high points in one day and a fair amount of mileage driven as well. On the way in, there were a number of small towns with motels and this point,I was happy to stay at any one of them. Little did I know I was in for one of my longest nights ever.

All the motels in the three small towns on the way back to I-25 were all booked. I checked about six different motels and to my surprise all were full. It was now about eleven in the evening and I was pretty tired. I finally got to I-25 and figured that the towns off this Interstate would be much better options. A little closer to Arizona wouldn’t hurt either. I then stopped in Springer, Wagon Mound and Las Vegas New Mexico certain I would find something. And to my surprise and disbelief, all these hotels were full all because it was the Fourth of July weekend. I thought to myself who is traveling to and vacationing in these towns. Not to be too snobbish, but there was nothing obvious that these locations had to offer that would warrant any vacation time. I finally got to Las Vegas, NM which had about twenty hotels. I pretty much stopped at everyone and they were all full. How can this be? Who are these people and why are they vacationing here? I was now forced to press on to Santa Fe and figured I would definitely be able to find something there. When I got to Santa Fe at about 2 AM, hotel row was all booked up as well. I spent about a half-hour going from hotel to hotel and hearing the same things, all booked up for the long weekend. So after a while, I gave up and decided to sleep in the car I had rented. Unfortunately, it was a sedan, so the best I could do was crank down the driver’s seat and make the best of it. I slept off and on for a few hours. After about four hours it was seven in the morning and I could not sleep anymore.

I got up, cleaned myself off as best I could and went to a Starbucks. I got a couple of coffees and some breakfast sandwiches. I started driving west towards Flagstaff, Arizona. In a few hours, I was getting close. I was constantly doing math on whether I would hike Humphrey this day or wait until tomorrow. The map shows that it is about ten miles out and back, so I was looking at five hours. However, I did two high points yesterday and effectively got no sleep so doing it today would be pushing it in a major way. I got into Flagstaff in the afternoon. I stopped at the local supermarket, got some hiking supplies and decided I would drive to the trailhead. The mountain is also a ski resort. It was one o’clock and I was feeling pretty good so I figured I would give it a try.

The trail starts from the parking lot and cuts across a ski trail before heading into the woods. There was a fair amount of traffic and I was following a few hikers which was good for pushing my pace which I thought was important based on the late start. Speaking to people, there was a saddle that was an important landmark on the trail. This day a few people were saying it was so windy that people were not going past the saddle. It was a bit of a slog, but I finally made it to the saddle and it was definitely windy. However, I had gone this far and there was no chance I was going to turn back and do it all over in the morning. I dropped my pack at the saddle to lighten the load a little and headed my way to the top. While the wind was quite strong, this portion was good terrain and it was quite clear. I finally made it to the top and was pretty proud of this last effort.

Maximum effort with a great pay-off. Check-off Arizona.

Maximum effort with a great pay-off. Check-off Arizona.

I worked my way back down which was rough. I was exhausted. I also almost got lost as I missed a switchback and walked out into a boulder field and could not spot the trail on the other side. I was definitely disoriented. I happened to see out of the corner of my eye someone making the turn I missed and was able to backtrack. If it were not for that person, I could have been in trouble.

Getting back to the car and getting my gear off was magical. I headed back into Flagstaff and had only three things on my mind: food, a shower and sleep. I went to Chipotle and got a giant burrito. I went to my hotel, ate it and took a shower. I got into bed and fell asleep in short order. I woke up the next morning at 8 AM, got some breakfast and drove home to Southern California. This trip worked out great. I was four for four on my high points without incident. The scenery was great and I saw a bunch of the country I really had not seen before. I can’t wait for my next trip!

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God did not create Man, but Man may create Heaven

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God did not create Man, but Man may create Heaven

We are in very interesting times and what our future may look like endlessly fascinates me. I merely consume lots of great thinking from others. I wish I were smart enough to formulate a unique theory. Our potential, or maybe likely future, boggles my very average mind. And there are some wild ideas about the world we will live in and what it might look like in the not-so-distant future. Some of those potential scenarios are very optimistic, but many paint potentially dark and scary outcomes. This is a personal exploration of some of that thinking and my humble guess at our future.

Religion is also a topic I find to be very fascinating. I think there is a corollary to our future. Why are we religious? What has been the impact on our history and how is it impacting individual behavior in our quickly changing culture and society today? I think the battle of religion against science and reason has yet to play itself out. I believe that religion’s purpose, need and usefulness is eroding quickly; arguably its usefulness is already behind us but we have yet to recognize this as a whole. Will there be some reckoning where things come to a head or does religion fade away during this century? Maybe religion becomes reconfigured because we have an innate need to belong to something that is greater?

Recently I watched an episode of the National Geographic show called “The Year Million” which was a series that focused on many theories and aspects of what mankind will look like in the year million; a long way from 2017. One episode called "Dude, Where's My Body?" suggests that in the not-so-distant future, we will be able to load our minds and lives into a digital state and vacate our biological life. This is what they called the Metaverse. This theory resonates with me for a number of reasons.

Heaven and Hell

What is the Metaverse? Good question. However, before we answer that question, let us start by making sure we have somewhat of a baseline on the characteristics of Heaven; mostly as a concept. Before I define this, I must state that I am no theologian nor am I religious. That being said, from my perspective, heaven is a state that humanity can go to if they are deemed to qualify by their God. We vacate our earthly bodies and live in a higher state with all the others that came before us and have been good or deemed worthy. An afterlife is the essence of this concept and is found in most religions. We live in the 'House of God' and historically, the heavens have largely been portrayed to be above the clouds and beyond Earth; consistent with what our knowledge of the world was 2000 years ago. We remain there for eternity in a virtuous state. Certainly not a perfect description but I think this hits the major elements. This desire for an afterlife or some aspect of immortality is found in most religions. Of course, this gets to our core fear as mortal humans, that life is finite. I certainly do not want to die.

Another thing to think about is that there is also an alternative to heaven in most religions. We of course refer to this as Hell; primarily a Christian concept. There does seem to be a binary choice in all religions split by good and evil. What is also an interesting condition is that while we often refer to all life on Earth as ‘all living creatures of God’, Heaven and Hell in many religions are reserved for only human life.

Now the Metaverse is a ‘virtual reality’ in which users not only interact with but also enter and live in a computer-generated environment. And like Heaven, we vacate our Earthly bodies and go into a higher state; in this case, a virtual and digital world. The Metaverse today would require several evolutionary steps from a technical, biological and energy perspective. With the growing speed of our technical capabilities, I suspect the Metaverse will become a reality in the next fifty years. We would, in theory, be able to remain in the Metaverse for eternity.  You would be able to interact with all other humans who have also entered the Metaverse. The similarities between the core elements of Heaven and the Metaverse are substantial, with the exception of two key points: the first is that man will create the Metaverse and God created Heaven, and second, Heaven is not real and the Metaverse will be.

The Metaverse is a collective virtual shared space, created by the convergence of virtually enhanced physical reality and physically persistent virtual space, including the sum of all virtual worlds, augmented reality, and the internet.

The Metaverse is a collective virtual shared space, created by the convergence of virtually enhanced physical reality and physically persistent virtual space, including the sum of all virtual worlds, augmented reality, and the internet.

Now, the likelihood of the Metaverse I think is high. What is uncertain is how virtuous it will be. First, I believe the only way the Metaverse does not become a reality is if mankind self-destructs before the technology needed to make the Metaverse becomes a reality. In respect to what the Metaverse will be like is also dictated by the fallibility of the human condition. There may be no overriding virtuous and high moral standard governed by a God in the Metaverse. There is a real possibility that the Metaverse may contain both Heavenly and Hellish-like conditions because there is not a single God-like force directing and controlling good morality. The simplicity of the binary choice between good and evil being judged by an all-knowing God is aspirational. What is concerning is that a world created by the frailties and complexities that exist within the human condition puts the likelihood that the Metaverse is heavenly in question, and may even be certain. This could be a key difference between the Metaverse and Heaven. I think there is a real potential that the Metaverse embodies both Heaven and Hell. If this is the case, then the Metaverse could mirror our life on Earth. If this were the result, then the only advancement would be immortality.

My quick view of religion is that it allowed us to make sense of a world that we did not understand. We lived in a world where there really was only one truth, and that was death. You can view this mortal reality in two ways: that there was finality and everything ended, or there was some next step after this life. This next step is aspirational and I think embedded in what makes us human. Additionally and maybe more importantly, the potential of moving to an afterlife provides a control mechanism for those who ruled. To create a possibility that there was a next step, mankind was able to impose a morality condition that was beneficial in controlling the growing masses in a time where there was limited opportunity to impose control on humanity in an overarching manner. However, as we grow smarter and gain more knowledge about our world and the Universe beyond, the likelihood of a God, Heaven and Hell, and all that goes with religion becomes less reasonable, rational and necessary.

In turn, we are growing and evolving to allow us to get to a point where we will be able to shed the limitations of biology and become immortal. I think the Metaverse is a near-certain future; barring the potential that our self-destructive ways don’t get the better of us first. What the Metaverse looks like when we get there is significantly less certain. The core decision or eventuality boils down to whether the Metaverse will be just good, like Heaven, or human nature will create a condition where there is good and bad, much like our historical mortal life. There are a lot of questions that we must contemplate in the Metaverse. Is the Metaverse an event horizon? Or is evolution finite or infinite? Is the Metaverse the end of humanity? Or will we have a mortal coil that is our umbilical cord to humanity in the Metaverse? What will the process of entering the Metaverse be like; gradual or a quick download? What will our sensation of this new world be like? One could presume that because there will be the capacity to shed the limitations of our current world this new reality will be many times more sensational than what we know today. May be infinitely more sensational, and will that be good or bad, Heaven or Hell?

I will certainly spend the rest of my days observing and exploring how likely the Metaverse will be in our future. From a personal perspective, I suspect that I will unlikely be able to take advantage of a life in the Metaverse. I suspect I will be on the outside looking in on this opportunity. And for someone who does not want to die, I find the cruel and personally disappointing. The only silver lining is that I believe my children will have the opportunity to enter the Metaverse. And I hope it is Heavenly. I find it ironic that it is very likely that the fiction our ancestors created will essentially come to fruition as a result of our evolution and making.

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Connecticut Highpoint

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Connecticut Highpoint

Despite living in Connecticut for twenty plus years some twenty years ago, it wasn’t until today that I bagged Mt. Frissell. The opportunity presented itself and I took advantage of it.

This is the official marker. The actual site is not particularly impressive.

This is the official marker. The actual site is not particularly impressive.

Mt. Frissell is a bit of an odd high point because it is not actually the high point of the actual mountain. The actual summit of Mt. Frissell is located in Massachusetts. A portion of the mountain is located in Connecticut and that elevation is the highest point in the state.

I was visiting my parents and my boyhood home in West Hartford, Connecticut. They were planning to move to Maine after residing in Connecticut for about 40 years. I was helping them get the house ready to sell. We worked most of a Friday and Saturday and got more done than my father had planned for. We did some additional work on Sunday morning. I floated the idea that they could drive me to Mt. Frissell and let me bag this peak. And so off we went. It was a very nice day and it had been a while since I had been to this part of the state. Connecticut is classically New England. My parents had not been to this portion for a while either. We headed northwest toward Salisbury. The drive was very nice.

We drove to the trailhead which required about a mile drive on a dirt road that was in decent condition. The actual trailhead was a bit unremarkable and it was hard to know for sure if we were at the trailhead. Luckily there was another person who was also trying to bag this high point. He was visiting from Ohio and had just bagged the Massachusetts high point. We hiked together and within about 45 minutes reached the actual summit of Mt. Frissell. The hike up was moderate with an initial uphill, some moderate distance travel and then a short climb to the top. There is not much of a view.

The actual summit is not impressive. After many years of hiking out west, not being above the treeline leads to some degree of disappointment.

The actual summit is not impressive. After many years of hiking out west, not being above the treeline leads to some degree of disappointment.

I then hiked about another ten minutes south to make it to the actual Connecticut high point. The trip was downhill which is understandable but a bit strange. High point bagged. Another fifteen minutes and I got to a very old marker that was the point where New York, Massachusetts and Connecticut all meet. This was kind of cool.

My new hiking companion chose not to go to the Tri-State marker and started heading down. I was able to catch him and make it down to the bottom pretty quickly. My parents were waiting for me. Mission accomplished on this five-mile out-and-back to the 1,059-foot peak and Connecticut high point. A good hike and very nice to bag my home state’s high point.

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My Contribution To The Electric Vehicle Future

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My Contribution To The Electric Vehicle Future

I believe electric cars are the future and I would give myself a slight pat on the back as an early adopter. In no way was I someone who was DIY'ing electric vehicles a decade or so ago, nor was I an owner of the EV1. However, from a consumer and fan perspective, I think I got on the train fairly early. Much of my interest in EVs is the result of my unabashed fandom for Elon Musk and the Tesla story.

My first entry into vehicles that were an improvement from the traditional combustion engine was the purchase of a Toyota Camry Hybrid. I made this purchase in 2007. While the vehicle itself was a bit 'vanilla', what I became obsessed with was trying to get the best miles per gallon (MPG) I could and maximizing the use of the 'electric mileage'. I quickly began to spend a great deal of attention on the 'gamification' of achieving the best MPG. The Camry showed when you were using the gasoline engine and when it was only operated electrically. The result was a dramatic change in how I drove and I did everything I could to maximize the usage of electric propulsion. This is when I became aware of 'hypermiling' and began to really pay attention to the tricks to minimize the usage of gasoline. I was pretty good. At the time, gas was pretty expensive; I believe it was around $4 per gallon. This added to the incentive to improve my MPG. The takeaway was that providing data on MPG performance and the ability to not use gas was powerful and changed my driving behavior in a dramatic way. Also, it became clear to me that every car going forward should be at least a hybrid; if for no other reason than not having your car run while at a stop and idling.

My next purchase was a Toyota Prius; the poster child for the conscientious driver. The vehicle was primarily for my wife's use as she does and continues to do quite a bit of driving. Previously she really disliked the Prius from a visual perspective, but surprisingly after a few weeks, she began to love it. She had rented a Prius a few months earlier in her business travels and this really changed her thinking around the vehicle. Her appreciation for the car was largely based on the fact that it felt very solid. I think this sensation was largely because the car weighed more than a typical car because of the battery. Now she did not embrace the hyper-mile perspective of driving but the performance from gasoline consumption was very good. She drove the most miles in our family and the financial impact was pretty dramatic particularly since her previous vehicle was a large SUV that sucked great amounts of gas.

Shortly after, the Camry lease ended and I opted to lease another Camry Hybrid. More or less the same as the previous vehicle with some minor improvements. And during these five years, I became as proficient a hybrid hyper-miler as possible.

In 2013 I decided I needed to really embrace a purer EV strategy. I coveted a Tesla but it was definitely out of my price range. I had some brand loyalty to Toyota and took a strong look at the Prius Plugin Hybrid. The problem was that the range was only ten miles. This surprised me somewhat as Toyota in many ways was the first brand to push and be successful with alternatives to pure combustion engines; i.e. the Prius. There were some other plugin hybrids from other companies that had twice the range. And to me, the difference between ten and twenty-plus miles was pretty significant.

I liked the look of the Ford Fusion quite a bit. The electric range of 20 miles was good along with the ability to use the carpool lane were compelling.

I liked the look of the Ford Fusion quite a bit. The electric range of 20 miles was good along with the ability to use the carpool lane were compelling.

I was friendly with a guy who owned a Chevy Volt and he only had great things to say about it. I strongly considered getting a Volt, but I had read an article about Ford's new C Max Energi. I decided I would test drive it and afterward, I decided I really liked it. I did a test drive with my wife and for whatever reason she did not like it; again this was largely based on a visual aesthetic. The salesman thought maybe I should look at the Ford Fusion Energi and the Mrs thought this was visually much better. However, I didn't want to spend the extra money and thought the C Max was the best option. Long story short, I was able to negotiate a very good price that was marginally more than I was going to pay for the C Max, and so I got the Fusion. And I really liked the car. Having the 20-mile range was very intriguing to me and my work was about four miles each way. Well within my daily commute. My hypermiling obsession jumped to the next level and this vehicle really provided an opportunity to not use any gasoline. And generally speaking, I was quite successful; see below. Unfortunately, I had to hand over daily usage to my daughter who needed her own transportation. She was not nearly the efficient driver I was and honestly couldn't care less about what was powering her transportation. She just cared about getting to wherever she wanted to go; ahhh teenagers!

I was pretty happy with my 126 miles per gallon result over 10,000 miles. I was also very impressed that more than 80% of those miles were electric, and about 25% were from brake regeneration. Wow, this I find very impressive. Why isn't every car li…

I was pretty happy with my 126 miles per gallon result over 10,000 miles. I was also very impressed that more than 80% of those miles were electric, and about 25% were from brake regeneration. Wow, I find this very impressive. Why isn't every car like this?

In the summer of 2015, my youngest was about to get his license and with two kids who were going to be drivers, I needed to get a third car.  A vehicle all for me, and I really wanted to go all-electric. Again, I wish I could afford a Tesla. There were a few options available and luckily I lived in California which seems to be the first place these types of vehicles get offered to the public. The choice came down to a Nissan Leaf or a BMW i3. I drove both and they were relatively similar with respect to the driver experience. The BMW looked cooler on the outside and they had done some very interesting things in the interior with reusable and recyclable materials. The range was about the same and so I was leaning toward the i3. I did the dance at the dealership and they were offering pretty attractive lease options with the introduction of this model. And so I pulled the trigger and got the i3.

In this picture I had just got the i3 and really was quite pleased with the purchase.

In this picture I had just got the i3 and really was quite pleased with the purchase.

My two-year lease is about to conclude and I have been debating what I am going to do with my next purchase. Again I find myself coveting a Tesla but still not being able to afford either the S or X Models. And yes the Model III is coming out soon but I am not on the waiting list and need to make a decision now. The good news is I am Tesla stockholder and have done quite well, but the bad news is I will need to buy someone else's electric vehicle. I would very much like to get another i3 but its range has not significantly improved and while 70 miles was reasonable and caused no issues for probably 90% of the last two years, there are other options with longer range. The Chevy Bolt is one of those options with a range in excess of three times my current vehicle, and that is very significant. On top of it, I got the i3 when they had recently introduced it and they provided me with very good lease terms. Today, they are not as aggressive despite my frankness with them that I can get effectively the same car with a significantly better range at the same and slightly lower price. I gave my BMW dealership ample opportunity to keep my business, but no luck.

I am now the proud owner of a Chevy Bolt and have had it for about two weeks. It is a nice car and as good as the i3 with some other options that are better. However, the range has proven to be a BIG difference. I have already made two trips deep into Los Angeles and back with no issues. That was not possible with the i3. This is going to work well. Two thumbs up so far. My only issue is that the battery is significantly bigger, and I will likely need to upgrade my home charging abilities and pay for a 220-volt outlet with a good bump in amperage to make overnight charging more meaningful.

Good looking car that is very functional and has lots of good features. Now I just need my carpool stickers!

Good looking car that is very functional and has lots of good features. Now I just need my carpool stickers!

When I return this car in the summer of 2020, I expect the EV options to be significantly improved. Not a day goes by that seemingly every automaker is introducing new models or making plans for electric vehicle options; thank you Elon Musk. His vision, courage and entrepreneurial spirit have created competition within the auto marketplace. This can only mean better vehicles and more of the population going emission-free. This is good for everyone! And maybe my next EV will have significant autonomous capabilities so I won't need to drive. I am looking forward to the day when car ownership goes away and I will no longer need to own and pay for a vehicle that remains idle for most of the day.

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Our Planet has too many People!

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Our Planet has too many People!

What is the appropriate human population for our planet? This is something I think about a fair amount. What makes this a complicated issue is that the appropriate number should be based on changing conditions. The right number could be different in the future than it is today. There is also a qualitative component that can differ based on your perspective. That being said, what I feel confident about is that our current population is higher than it should be today. I believe overpopulation is our most important issue among several very difficult challenges. Further, overpopulation contributes to a number of our most pressing challenges.

Our population is currently about 7.6 billion according to the United Nations. In 2050 the UN estimates the population will be 10.9 billion and 11.8 billion by 2100. In 1927 the world population was two billion. I find the rate at which the population has grown in less than 100 years to be very alarming. Now I am certainly no expert on this matter, but the following is an exploration of various aspects of this phenomenon.

Too many people

Birth and death rates are the two fundamental metrics that determine population growth. It is no mystery that today more people are being born than dying. This has obviously been the net condition for all human existence. We are a lot like the proverbial rabbit. Within the last fifty years and likely continuing for the next fifty years, there is a compounding effect accelerating population growth with high birth rates in significant portions of the existing population, exacerbated by longer life spans. The result has been nearly a fivefold increase in our population in the last 100 years. If we do not act, the growth will continue to be algebraic in the next 100 years and beyond.

Short of some catastrophic incident, we probably won’t and can’t impact death rates. So, how do we impact birth rates? This is a complex issue and the results will be difficult and slow. That being said, I think there is also a basic simplicity to the answer which is just being good humans. When we look at places where modern and democratic societies are well established, birth rates tend to be lower. So what contributes to high birth rates? Let’s start with basic rights for women. Regrettably, women are second-class humans in a shockingly large portion of our planet. And even in modern society, they deal with second-class challenges. Equal rights and standing would go a long way in reducing birth rates. This is a tall order and will likely take a long time to change and improve. We will likely double or triple our population before women are truly equal citizens in all parts of the world.

I believe religion is a primary reason for the lack of equality we find in a shockingly big portion of the planet. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” is a Christian and religious axiom that has unequal application across the planet, particularly for women. In ‘third-world’ countries where religion is strong, women are far from equal. One of the primary outcomes of this condition is high birth rates. Further, many religions promote large families for no other reason than to grow the ranks of the church, often under the guise of God’s will. From a cultural perspective, we need to move to a world that is secular.

Pew Study finds Mormon Families are the largest In America.

Pew Study finds Mormon Families are the largest In America.

Politically, we desperately need all countries to be democratic and support equal rights amongst the sexes, race and economic status. The United States has long been the model for the rest of the world. However, over the last few decades, there has been an erosion of the ‘every vote counts’ concept. Whether it is the flaw of the Electoral College, gerrymandering, greater influence by corporations as a result of lobbying and Citizens United, and ‘dark’ money, they have all negatively impacted the will of the people. On a global basis, there was optimism that democracy seemed likely to be the primary political model for a growing number of countries. Recently, that optimism has waned.

Education is another important condition and an opportunity that can have a significant impact on birth rates. In a society where women are educated, birth rates are lower. Why? Education provides women with economic and social opportunities, instead of just reproduction and motherhood. Practically, girls are busy when they are going to school. They have a sense of hope for their future. Further, they are likely to get sex education which can impact accidental pregnancies. Education may be our best and most effective tool in the short-term to curb high birth rates.

I don’t wish death on anybody and generally support causes that reduce the likelihood of death from a perspective of fundamental goodwill toward others. I will fight my own death for as long as I can because I think we have only one shot at this and I am generally happy and lucky. This however creates a conflict of ideas for me. When I see in the news that people have died, I must confess there is a little part of me that thinks this is good. Now there are fewer people. Beyond single events, there are social issues I embrace but only contribute to a growing population. An example of this conflict of ideas would be guns. I strongly believe we need gun control in America, and anywhere else that doesn’t have it. If you look at the issue by itself, in a modern world, it is hard to reconcile killing each other. Guns provide an opportunity to make killing easy, spontaneous and efficient. However, from a population perspective, murder and war ‘thin the herd’ in a meaningful way.

Another area I am very interested in is autonomous driving. I love to drive and fancy myself as a pretty good driver. However, when you put a lot of people together and ask them to drive, you get chaos and inefficiency. Living in Southern California, I get to experience this result with some regularity. And if you really look at the need for human driving, you can only conclude that it is a colossal waste of time. Autonomous driving provides hope for efficient transportation, the elimination of car ownership and the opportunity to use this time in more productive ways. However, from an overpopulation perspective, vehicle deaths have an impact on the population. Also, our inefficient transportation contributes to pollution and climate change which is killing large numbers as well. Whether guns, cars or the many other things that our modern lifestyle does to kill us, we should not have to retard progress to slow population growth. Wishing for a smaller population based on our current condition, chance or fate is not a great strategy.

Technology has and will continue to impact population growth, both positively and negatively. One advancement that I believe will have a significant impact with respect to slowing population growth is the internet. Today’s youth have grown up in the era of the internet and have been socialized in a way that I believe will lessen the importance and need for marriage and family. The internet provides an endless source of entertainment or at least distraction, which can and often is consumed in isolation. We can now communicate in a manner that does not require the participants to be physically together. For my generation, this experience is somewhat of a substitute for community and socialization. I think our youth sees this not as a substitute, but at minimum a normal condition. And many I think actually prefer it. Further, we can now receive a growing list of many of life’s staples without leaving one’s residence. The interest and need for human interaction are diminished in meaningful ways. And this condition is only going to get stronger.

Maybe the greatest potential impact on population reduction is porn. For men, easy access to porn now allows for hassle-free and convenient sexual release with significantly fewer challenges than men have had in past generations. We are already seeing a reduction in marriage in many industrialized countries, and while I do not think porn is the sole reason, it certainly will be a significant contributor. The internet allows us to be, and arguably promotes selfishness. Inconvenience and immediate gratification are easily achieved in many important segments of our daily lives. Relationships, marriage and family are hard, messy and inconvenient. For those who have access to technology, procreation becomes less important. And we are not far away from the planet’s entire population having access to the internet and a digital lifestyle.

Endemics, epidemics, and pandemics are conditions that could have a big impact on the population and according to many scientists, are more and more likely as the population grows. We have had a number of historical events including two major Bubonic Plagues ( 541 and 1346) killing more than 50 million people in a time when the population was small; estimates are that 25 to 60% of the European population died. Major cholera outbreaks (1852 and 1910) resulted in millions of deaths. The flu (1889, 1918, 1956 and 1968) resulted in anywhere between 20 to 50 million deaths. The HIV AIDS virus has killed more than 35 million people primarily between 2005 and 2013 and continues to kill people today. These numbers are both significant, but as the population continues to grow, they potentially have a smaller and smaller proportional impact. However, diseases have and will be more lethal. Medicine will have a more difficult time curbing and eradicating disease in the future due to a number of issues like overuse of antibiotics, dense populations, travel, poverty and environmental conditions. We have recently had a potentially deadly Ebola epidemic and almost a pandemic. There is a good chance that we will see an event that will be severe, move quickly and have vast lethal consequences.

ebola-outbreak.jpg

Environmental pollution and Climate Change will impact populations mostly in a negative way; Mother Nature fights back! Unfortunately, we are poisoning both the planet and ourselves at an alarming rate. Whether it is our landscapes, our indoor lives, or our ‘progress’, it often comes with either unintended or known consequences. There are some signs of hope that we can live in a cleaner and safer world, but a couple of centuries of our industrial revolution, entrenched interests in dirty industries and our ever-growing population will make cleaning up our planet very challenging. The population will suffer because of it.

Scarcity is going to be a crisis in the not-so-distant future. We have already seen a number of events recently that have highlighted the severity and impact that scarcity of resources will have on our growing populations and society. Many people believe the Arab Spring began in late 2010 when a Tunisian street vendor set himself on fire. However, prior to this event, Tunisia which is a major importer of food due to arid land struggled to import needed quantities of food driving up prices. Further, in 2010 there was a global food crisis due to poor growing conditions as a result of both drought and too much rain for the major food exporters around the globe. This exacerbated unrest in a region that was already struggling both economically, politically and culturally. The result was widespread unrest in the region resulting in protests and death. Some countries looked to move toward liberalization but ultimately resulted in authoritarian regimes gaining control and clamping down on the population even harder.

The fact is our planet has finite resources. We in theory overuse those resources that can be naturally replaced on an annual basis after about eight months; Earth Overshoot Day is generally in early August. As our population grows, and those resources diminish, this day will come earlier and earlier. There may be some opportunities to mitigate this reality with technology. Agriculture is an industry that is making great leaps and investments to grow better food with significantly less water, focused nutrients and in some instances, no soil at all. Having a steady and secure source of food alleviates struggles around a critical life staple. However, finite resources are a reality that is hard to wiggle out of with a population that already exceeds the sustainable capabilities of our planet.

One way to relieve the pressure of overpopulation is to become an interplanetary species. There are significant efforts underway to go to Mars as the start of this process. We will likely have ‘permanent residency’ on the red planet in the next twenty years. There will also be populations living in ‘space stations’ whether orbiting Earth, other planets or just exploring the Universe. Many think that if we are to survive the next extinction event, this is the only way to ensure the human species continues.

So how does this all end? It feels like there are probably two outcomes. The first is that the population is reduced significantly by some catastrophic event or series of compounding events. Pandemics and war seem to be the two most likely ‘culling’ events. The war option is the result of our general destructive and aggressive nature in the battle over resources. The latter I think is more likely to be the catalyst and certainly as time goes on with the impact of climate change, we will fight for a shrinking pool of resources needed to survive.

The ‘half full’ outcome is that we manage and support our unnaturally large population through innovation and technology. This likely will include a multi-planetary opportunity to allow a ‘release valve’ to our current single option called planet Earth.

I suspect our future includes generous portions of both death and opportunity. Good luck to us all!

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Trying to Climb Mt. Whitney

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Trying to Climb Mt. Whitney

In my quest to climb the highest points and peaks of the continental 48, Mt. Whitney is the tallest at 14,505 feet. Why not knock this one off early in the process was my thinking in constructing a somewhat hasty trip.

This is not my picture but is common view of the mountain. This makes it look a bit harder than it really is, but the mountain is impressive, and for first-timers, pretty intimidating. We had a fair amount of snow cover on our trip but not quite to …

This is not my picture but is a common view of the mountain. This makes it look a bit harder than it really is, but the mountain is impressive, and for first-timers, pretty intimidating. We had a fair amount of snow cover on our trip but not quite to the extent shown here.

I have been considering this hike for a little while but there is a permit requirement to access the mountain from March through October. I read a lot about it and the basic takeaway was it was a very long and laborious effort but doable in one day. So with that information, I convinced my youngest son to go with me and we drove there on the first Saturday of November.

We arrived at the center where you put in your permit pretty late but got there just before closing time. We then went into Lone Pine and went to a local outfitter store called Elevation. The guys there were very helpful and provided a number of good suggestions. We ended up renting walking poles which were a lifesaver on both the icy sections and coming back down; I ended up buying my own pair after this experience because I became convinced they were extremely helpful. We got crampons, good UV sunglasses and a number of different items. They recommended that we get going about 2 AM if we were going to day hike it; we purchased headlamps as well. This seemed awfully early based on the mileage, but we took their recommendation seriously.

We decided we would do a test 'drive' to the trailhead so we didn't need to figure it out at some crazy hour in the night. You climb a fair height in your car and after a while, we got to the trailhead. We saw a guy who had just come down and he said he day hiked but was just getting down around 7:30 PM and in the dark. He said he started around 2 AM. He looked to be an above-average hiker so we were now convinced we needed to start early.

We then had dinner at a ribs place and ate a lot in preparation for our long day ahead. The food was good but my son is not a great eater and he struggled a little with his somewhat 'slimy' ribs he ordered. We went to a store and picked up some more trail snacks for the hike.

We went back to the Whitney Portal and did a test run on getting dressed and ready to get out the door. We then went to bed with the anticipation of waking up at 2 AM and being at the trailhead no later than 3 AM to start the hike.

Unfortunately, my son soon after shutting the lights off developed a bad stomachache. He ended up throwing up a few times and had a little diarrhea. Unfortunately, we did not get much sleep. And there was some uncertainty as to whether we were actually going to be able to make a go of it with my son's condition.

The alarm went off at 2 AM and we decided we would try to get a little more sleep. We ended up getting up at about 3 AM, got ready, packed up and drove to the trailhead. We had a little hitch getting there as we had a seed of doubt that we were on the right road and did some backtracking. We got on the trailhead about 4 AM and we were just going to see how it went and how my son's stomach was going to handle it. We hiked a few miles through the dark and the sun began to rise. My son's condition was getting better. We kept pushing and got to Outpost Camp and the Mirror Lake area. We started to run into snow and ice and eventually decided we needed to put on our crampons.

I took this on our way up and about two hours into the hike. We really began to see what was around us and began to see some progress.

I took this on our way up and about two hours into the hike. We really began to see what was around us and began to see some progress.

We got to a place where we could see Consultation Lake and really see Mt. Whitney as well. We were getting close to the 99 switchbacks. The weather was pretty good this morning and we were optimistic. We finally got to the 'chains' and this was pretty treacherous. There was a lot of snow and essentially one foot hole in the snow to navigate through this stretch. And where there were no chains, there was a steep snowfield for about 1000 feet down. It definitely forced you to be quite careful.

We kept pressing up the switchbacks and wanted to hit the Trail Crest by 2 PM. We met this guy who was not dressed properly and had run out of something to drink. We hiked with him for a little while but eventually passed and separated from him. We were starting to get tired and the weather was turning for the worse. Our legs were starting to get quite 'rubbery' and we were getting nervous about the descent particularly around this very narrow snow section near the chains. We got to the Trail Crest a little after 2 PM and talked to a gentleman who said that the peak was only another two miles but would take about two hours. We debated fairly vigorously about whether we should keep going or turn back. We were pretty tired, but at the same time, so close. A decision between what we want and what is smart.

This was actually on the way down and we had gotten through the majority of the snow. While the decision to turn back was a very hard one and anguishing, it was the right decision. We were happy to be at this point on our way out.

This was actually on the way down and we had gotten through the majority of the snow. While the decision to turn back was a very hard one and anguishing, it was the right decision. We were happy to be at this point on our way out.

We decided to turn back. Ultimately a smart decision, but filled with lots of regret. We worked our way through the narrow and treacherous sections of snow near the chains. We were happy to be through this section safely. We worked our way down. The trail seemed to go forever. I could only think about my condition if we had pressed our way to the top. We got back to our car at about dusk and were very happy to be back and sitting down.

With some time between this attempt and penning this report, my basic conclusion is that this was overly ambitious. Our plans were firmed up only a couple of days before our actual attempt. And while I think we could do it as a day trip, it is long and a bit of a marathon. We in fact needed to start at 2 AM as suggested. Our physical condition, particularly my son, was not ideal due to our pre-hike dinner and lack of sleep. Everything being equal, we were happy with the attempt.

The new plan is getting a permit when there is little to no snow and maybe do an overnight. With these two differences, I am confident we will conquer the highest peak in the lower 48 states, Mt. Whitney!

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A Political Journey

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A Political Journey

I have always liked politics from a young age. In one way or another, I have had a real interest in the world becoming a better place. I think politics is a big part of the change, good and bad. My view of the world today versus what I used to think and believe as a politically engaged teenager and young adult has definitely changed. I wonder if my political journey is unique or if others tend to follow the same path as they age? My guess is that there are two directions that people take as they age: either like me, you tend to grow more empathetic and considerate of your fellow man, or alternatively, you get jaded and become a curmudgeon.

When I was young, I very much embraced conservatism. I was a sophomore in high school when Ronald Reagan was elected. Alex Keaton was not just amusing on Family Ties, but I saw a little of me in him. It was also a way to rebel against my parents, for which I did a fair amount of for about ten years probably starting somewhere in the early eighties. I remember being very proud of my Republican Party membership card signed by Lee Atwater sometime in the early nineties.

This was appealing to me as a young man.

This was appealing to me as a young man.

I went to college in hopes of being a physics major. I had really enjoyed high school physics and did pretty well on the AP test. I took the introductory courses in college and did well. In the second semester of my sophomore year, I took an intermediate molecular and atomic physics course. The professor was exactly what you would think a college physics professor would look like: wiry, balding with glasses and very soft-spoken. The class was on Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 8 AM. The time of day was not ideal for a college student. This professor spent the majority of the class with his back to the class and his face about three inches from the blackboard. He spoke in a monotone voice and very softly. It was hard to learn during the class. I was always pretty good at cramming and making up ground on any shortcomings from the classroom experience when getting ready for a test. The first test for this class, I spent about two hours in a study hall at the end of my dorm floor. I just could not wrap my head around the material. Within those two hours, I slowly came to the realization that I had hit the ceiling of my physics knowledge. My physics aspirations were over! And so I opted to be a Political Science major. Quite the left turn. My school was well known for ‘PoliSci’ and I really liked the topic. I am happy with the end result. Most of my college peers took their Political Science degree and became either an attorney or went to DC. I did neither.

A few years later, I moved to San Francisco. Despite the history and reputation of this city, it had little to no effect on how I saw the world. I loved almost everything about San Francisco, but my conservative view of the world saw little change in the nineties. In the midst of the Clinton presidency, I saw few positives about his tenure and results. The Monica Lewinsky episode was red meat for some good ‘Slick Willy’ bashing.

Toward the end of the nineties, my political and social views began to change. My view on social issues, in particular, became more relaxed and liberalized. Before the decade was over, I was married with three kids. This experience definitely began to shift the way I saw the world. The realities of being a parent change one’s perspective. I would also like to think that this was also a result of some wisdom with age and personal growth. The hard edges of how I previously thought the world should work began to round. My thoughts on how others should conduct themselves have lost their intensity. I definitely became less judgmental. Some perspective and the willingness to show empathy that others' situations may not align with my own view on how things should be, but as long as it was not hurting anyone, who cares? An ethos of live and let live really began to set in. In the new millennium, I would characterize myself as fiscally conservative and socially liberal.

I remember the 2000 election and the episode of the ‘hanging chads’ and was very happy the elections swung George W. Bush’s way. I recall having the feeling that he was easily the better of the two choices. I must confess there was an aspect of taking some joy in ‘hating’ Al Gore as much as thinking Bush was the better choice. This is much the same way that I feel about the Yankees and Lakers as a Red Sox and Celtics fan; I almost take as much joy when the opponent suffers as I do when my teams succeed. When 9/11 occurred, I thought #43 was pretty terrific. Certainly his highlight as President, although I view his presidency very differently today.

In early 2000, I moved to Orange County whose reputation is a conservative island in a predominantly liberal state. Another characteristic of the OC is the number of ‘new churches’ with the most notable being the mega-church Saddleback which is but a stone’s throw from my house. This experience and people I began to run into both professionally and in my day-to-day life began to make me rethink some previously held conservative values and loyalty. Over this decade I came to really struggle with the religious right and its impact on the Republican Party. I began to realize that religious dogma has no place in a society that progresses through science.

In 2008, Obama’s election created a lot of hope that we were really making progress as a nation and culture. I spent much of his presidency working on environmental issues. I became very interested in this space after seeing Al Gore’s movie "An Inconvenient Truth”. Oddly enough, the man I was happy to see lose the 2000 election now became the source of much of my work for the next eight years. I now often wonder how different our world would be if Al Gore had not lost that election.

During the Obama presidency, I really began to see the impact the religious right was having, and I took issue with their efforts. I began to see that these views began to really galvanize in opposition to Obama. There seemed to be a tug of war between a society changing through progression and those who wanted to cling to the way things used to be. I understand that change is scary; the theme of this entire site is the good and bad of change, knowing that change is inevitable.

I think the next twenty years or so will be tumultuous with the inevitability of liberal progress driven by science and technology but those who fear that unknown future desperately clinging to the past. Hold on tight! I hope that we will come out the other side in a much better world. Human nature is such that we can be very self-destructive and hopefully those tendencies are not realized through the growing power and impact of our scientific and technological progress. It feels like the scene at the end of The Empire Strikes Back, where the Millennium Falcon fires the fatal shot to the Death Star and barely flies out of the explosion. Hopefully, we share the same fate!

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My Mother-in-Law, Mamma

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My Mother-in-Law, Mamma

I married into an Italian family and for the last twenty years or so, I have had an education on the Mediterranean perspective of the world. Suffice it to say, there is a real difference between my Yankee, New England upbringing, and the Italian perspective, particularly as it relates to raising children.

I always liked this festive picture of Mamma who was helping get ready for my daughter's Tea Party Birthday.

I always liked this festive picture of Mamma who was helping get ready for my daughter's Tea Party Birthday.

Sara Leonardi was born August 18th, 1931 in the town of La Spezia to Ippolito Leonardi and Leonilde Chiappini. She was the youngest of seven children. A good portion of her childhood had the backdrop of World War II, Mussolini and Fascism. I have not heard a lot of her first-hand accounts of these times, but it certainly left a mark on her. Probably the most meaningful of which resulted in her leaving Italy in the summer of 1950 to travel to America, where she would eventually meet her husband, James Vernazza. She would never return to Italy and her new life began in Daly City, California (gateway to San Francisco. She married into another very Italian, and now American family, the Vernazzas.

Many people have told both my wife and me that I am either very understanding, kind or patient to live with my mother-in-law. And while I appreciate their thinking that I am a good person, I suspect it has more to do with Mamma than me. Mamma's sole purpose is to serve her grandchildren, and secondarily to help the household in general. So from that perspective, it is hard not to like her and appreciate all that she does, despite the fact that from a style point of view, there is not always alignment.

Mamma also speaks primarily Italian. Her daughter understands her perfectly but responds to her strictly in English, and Mamma, in turn, understands her with very few exceptions. The same holds true for my three kids; however, the condition of mutual understanding is not quite at the level it is between Mamma and her daughter. However, my ability to communicate with Mamma is quite limited and challenging. I know a very limited number of Italian words and Mamma understands a very little amount of my English, which I think is no different from the English delivered by her daughter and grandchildren, but somehow for her, it is not the same. Our communication is very dependent on physical gestures, volume, and emphasis for our very short messaging strategies in hopes of getting the point across. I would say about half of our communication when it is strictly the two of us, results in failure and frustration. Needless to say, she and I have never had any deep, philosophical conversations. There is a wide array of topics that many relationships generally cover, but that has never been a part of our relationship. It is this condition that makes me wonder if this is why we have a good relationship of mutual understanding? Of course, this does not mean mutual agreement. All in all, living with Mamma has been quite good. However, there are certainly sources of irritation, puzzlement and hilarity.

My relationship with Mamma began when I started dating my wife (maybe too obvious, duh) and I thought the fact that she only spoke Italian was very cute and very much intrigued me. However, my life of communication struggles would really first reveal itself in a phone call I would try to make to my now wife. I have recorded this story because I think it is better delivered and understood in an audio recounting than trying to convey it in written word

Trying to leave a message

Soon thereafter, I had my first Thanksgiving dinner with the Vernazza family and this was going to be another education in Italian thinking. I have now come to believe that within the genetic makeup of Italians, there is a gene that creates a primal fear that you may serve a meal that will not provide enough quantity for the people dining. This fear becomes heightened when you are entertaining and there will be individuals outside the customary circle of usual suspects. The result is insane quantities of food. So my first Thanksgiving with the Vernazzas was really my first formal function with my wife and her family. As a kid, Thanksgiving was a pretty formal and memorable event for me. With the West Coast and Italian factor, I had no sense of what this Thanksgiving would be like. So when I arrived at the Vernazza castle (ironically located on Castle Street), I was not completely sure what was in store for me. At this stage in my life, I was also at my peak ability to consume impressive quantities of food, and my abilities would definitely be tested on this day. When I arrived, there was a bountiful amount of finger foods. This would also be my introduction to prosciutto which I have enjoyed quite a bit over the past twenty years. So after some serious grazing on hors d’oeuvres, it was time to sit down and begin the meal. First out was the tortellini soup. Mamma hand-makes each tortellini that contains some mixture of boiled vegetables and meat and then enclosed in handmade pasta. Very good, and who am I to turn down the second helping that was essentially forced on me? Next were two generous trays of lasagna, and I love lasagna. Hmmm .... Okay so it was not the giant turkey I was expecting and the Norman Rockwell-esque Thanksgiving experience I was used to, but when in Rome, do as the Romans. Mamma's lasagna was very good and is legendary in our family - well deserved, although her prodigy does not love it the way most guests and non-Italians do, which is another story for another day. I will say my previous lasagna experience generally included running down to the corner store to get the Stouffer microwavable lasagna which I liked, until my introduction to Mamma's efforts. I would go on to consume a very generous first and second helping. And my memory is a little fuzzy, but there is a good chance that I had thirds as well. At this point I was stuffed and very happy. And again, not the Thanksgiving foods I was used to, but nonetheless quite good. Welcome to the Italian lifestyle! But wait, what is that out of the corner of my eye? Holy shit, it is Mamma coming out from the kitchen with a turkey! And not just a regular turkey, but a gigantic one. At this point, I am a little pissed at my soon-to-be wife for not giving me the heads up that the lasagna was effectively an appetizer. And so to be a good guest, I took a generous serving of turkey, stuffing, vegetables and mashed potatoes. Somehow I stuffed more food into myself. Now I went from pleasantly stuffed to downright uncomfortable. And this does not even cover the dessert that was brought out afterward. So this was my first introduction to confirming the stereotype of Italians and the belief that they serve, and expect their guests to eat a lot of food. Interestingly enough, they do not hold themselves to the same quantity standards they do for everyone else. No question this stereotype is true, and again, there is definitely a genetic condition that creates this primal fear of not being able to provide bountiful quantities for those who sit around their table. The result is overestimating what people can realistically eat by at least a factor of two.

I come from Scottish ancestry and along with my New England, Yankee upbringing, I have always had a disdain for waste. Eat what you take was very much my childhood. This condition combined with my mother-in-law and wife's perspective that they must not be caught short on quantity of food for any meal has proven to be a challenge and a problem for both my waistline and wallet. To make matters worse, these Italians are not great consumers of the leftovers that are a condition of most meals. The result is I eat too much in hopes of not throwing the food away, and despite my efforts, we still regrettably throw too much away. This is definitely one of several personal disappointments in my life.

Mamma is very superstitious. I think it is a combination of the generation she comes from and her religious upbringing. This view of the world manifests itself in a couple of ways. One of the more entertaining (and irritating) situations that arise often is that a major life event cannot happen on either a Tuesday or Friday. This includes new jobs, doctor appointments, births, graduations, etc. One of the more entertaining events that was impacted by Mamma's day-of-the-week fear is when we bought our first home. The purchase had to run through probate as the previous owner had died and this took a long time. My agent finally called me on a Thursday night and said I could get the keys the next day. I was very excited and called my wife and said we can get in on Friday after work. We were living with Mamma at the time and my wife's first thought was we can't go in for the first time because it was a Friday. My reaction to that was bullshit! I just spent a couple of months jumping through hoops and we are going in as soon as we can, which just happens to be a Friday. I was not going to be denied. So we lied to Mamma and said we were going out to dinner. We went to the house and went in as first-time homeowners. This was a big deal. We walked around inspecting everything and then we went into the garage. The door to the garage was spring-loaded and when we walked in, the door shut behind me and locked. I had lunged back to try to catch it but it was too late. Damn!!!! As the door was shutting, I realized in that instant that I had put the house keys on the kitchen counter. I walked out a side door and around the house and of course the front door we locked behind us when we first went in and now could not get in. Right there was a window that I peered into to see the keys sitting on the kitchen counter. We tried everything to get back into the house. Of course, everything was locked except the garage. So I was now forced to call a locksmith to break into my new house of 16'ish hours. And to add insult to injury, I had to pay him about $100. When we got back in, I got the giant 'I told you so' from my wife. Needless to say, we did not share this with Mamma because her concern would have gone way beyond getting locked out. She would have concluded that the house and all that entered were going to be cursed and damned for eternity. And when something bad happens from time to time as is the expectation in life, we would have been reminded we got the house on a Friday!

Another manifestation of her superstition revealed itself when our kids were small. I was raised Protestant and have not practiced religion for the vast majority of my life. I think Mamma realized this about me after a short period of time. From her perspective, this was not an ideal situation, but somewhat hypocritical as she was not a fervent churchgoer. There was a history of pretty strong activity with the Catholic church, but that activity had waned some over time. However, for major events, the importance of the church was strong. And so when her grandchildren were born, she was quite insistent about getting them baptized. As I dug into why this was such a big issue, the answer was an education about Catholicism that I was unaware of; apparently you are considered to be an animal, or not human in God's eyes until you are baptized. Mamma was determined to have her grandchildren be considered human. I am guessing that this is all so they would be admitted into the 'pearly gates' when it is all over. Needless to say, we obliged her wishes and our kids received the Catholic 'golden ticket' to the hereafter!

This is the preparation for Ben's baptism at the Saints Peter and Paul church in the North Beach (Italian) section of San Francisco. You can see Ben being held by his Uncle and namesake quite wary of what is too come; God's cold water on the head! M…

This is the preparation for Ben's baptism at the Saints Peter and Paul church in the North Beach (Italian) section of San Francisco. You can see Ben being held by his Uncle and namesake quite wary of what is too come; God's cold water on the head! Mamma second to the right holding Sara's hand is thinking to herself, 'now all my grandchildren will be legit Catholics!'

The stereotype of Italian grandmothers is not an exaggeration. They are unbelievably dedicated to their grandchildren, particularly the boys. And Mamma is no exception to this rule. This first played out as she provided daycare for all three of her grandchildren which was very good for my kids, and worked out very well for me, if for no other reason than the price was right. The Italian grandmother's prime directive is keeping people fed and warm, and this applies in an exaggerated approach with grandchildren. All three of them got a steady diet of baby food, homemade soups and the Italian staple, pasta. With Ben who was her last, he was so doted on that I was anxious to put him in 'preschool' with his sister. The condition of being overly cared for is certainly a good problem to have, but I felt strongly that he needed to have a toy ripped out of his hands by some kid because this was the opposite of the experience he was getting with Mamma who was waiting on him 'hand and foot'. I don't recall completely what we told her as to why there was going to be a change, but my guess is we probably had to lie to Mamma and say that he needed to go to school because some higher authority required it. Needless to say, my kids got a very caring start to their lives. Thank you Mamma!

Mamma loves her grandchildren!

Mamma loves her grandchildren!

After Mamma moved to the US, she lived in Daly City, the 'Gateway to San Francisco' for most of her life. We then moved to Orange County, California in 2002. Instead of leaving Mamma up north in Daly City, she moved down with us in Southern California and has lived with us ever since. This has been a good experience for everyone involved generally speaking, but it certainly has created some amusing situations. The following are some of her idiosyncrasies and habits. 

Mamma loves bread. Which I guess is based on her being Italian and is not altogether surprising. My wife will buy her a French (ironic) baguette seemingly every day. There is a family theory that bread was a very important part of her World War II childhood and general survival. Apparently for many meals, all they had to eat was bread and saving it was very important. Today, she dutifully cuts at least six to ten pieces for dinner almost every night. She eats about half of them herself and always tries to sell the others to anyone who might eat them. Most often, she is the only one eating the bread. This leaves at least two or three uneaten pieces and about six to nine inches of uncut baguette. Needless to say, a significant portion does not get consumed. Now she will use breading for various recipes and I don't see very much bread thrown away. Sometimes there will be a few leftover halves of bread in the freezer for future use, but there is a significant amount of bread that has to go unused and generally speaking, it is unaccounted for. Where does it all go? You would think maybe the local bird population would be grossly overweight, but this is not the case. I am pretty certain it does not get tossed despite her proclivity for throwing perfectly good things away. So I have concluded that she is stuffing it in some wall cavity in the house and when she finally passes away, we will discover some giant store of moldy bread squirreled away that she was saving for the end of the world!

Mamma is a 'stuffer', and you might ask, what do you mean? She is very concerned about having a clean house, which is great and I have been blessed for the most part of this never-ending goal she pursues. However, she will clean and organize based on what it looks like and pursue the most expedient approach to putting stuff away. This manifests itself in situations where there is something lying around and that item gets put away in a drawer or cabinet that is closest to where the item has been left, and not where it really should go. Of course in the grand scheme of things, this is by no means a deal-breaker, but I find it to be a real annoyance. Just put it where it belongs! Even if the steps you need to take to make it happen, are significantly more than the expedient 'stuff' that is her approach! Her daughter is a bit of a 'stuffer' as well, but mercifully not quite as bad. It is hard to know if this practice has left its mark on her grandchildren who for the most part don't seem to put anything away; a nagging parent perspective. I am hoping the stuffing cycle is broken with the new generation, but there is much work to be done before this hand reveals itself.

Mamma's view of cleaning is 'if you are not burning nose hairs, you are not cleaning!' She loves bleach in particular, and she uses it liberally everywhere. Her grandchildren have protested vigorously about her bleaching of their clothes which either discolors the items or over time, makes the fabric weak and prone to ripping. Our kitchen and bathrooms get a fair amount of bleach and this really knows no boundaries; our kitchen cabinets are faded and spotted. I have begged Mamma's 'bleach pimp', my wife, to stop buying this unnecessary addiction, but after nearly fifteen years, I have watched gallons and gallons of various bleach brands getting totted into the house after their customary Saturday shopping trip.

Mamma on occasion surprises me and one of those pleasantries includes her use of wool balls as an alternative to dryer sheets. I ran an eCommerce website called BuyGreen.com and would ask Mamma to try many products, because if she liked it, average consumers would love it. So wool dryer balls got tested as one of many products, and these items became Mamma-approved! And approval was definitely not the case for all items I asked her to try. And for a considerable period of time, she really has been quite protective and careful with these three baseball-sized wool balls. And why does she love them because she only speaks Italian I cannot be totally sure, but I would hope it is because they work and we avoid the very nasty chemicals found in most dryer sheets. Probably wishful thinking, but ultimately the end result is all that matters.

One of her most curious habits is she talks and swears at the television. She is very involved in most of her shows which is a relatively small population. They all generally create some out-loud verbal commentary, but some shows elicit an unusual amount of vocal energy. As best I can tell, either game shows or Mexican soap operas generate the most action. Her favorite shows include RAI which is Italy's national public broadcasting company, a few of the Mexican soap operas, a variety of cooking shows on Food Network and when someone is downstairs with her, channel 7 which is our local ABC affiliate. The latter is a concession to the predominantly English speaking element of the household. I work out of the house upstairs in our loft and she typically watches in the family room/kitchen during the day. The game shows on RAI and Mexican soap operas generate the most amount of vocalization and consume the majority of her time when I am working. During the game shows she generally utters 'stupido', often over and over like a machine gun. When she really gets worked up, she might be telling the poor participants how dumb they are ten times a minute. I am perplexed by this in that I wonder how someone can stick with a show that is full of stupid people and or activity that is so clearly frustrating to her; or so I think. I would definitely search for something else and turn the channel for things far less annoying or interesting. We also believe that they show the answer to the viewing audience and so when the contestant gets the wrong answer, she concludes they are stupid because she has seen the answer. I am not sure whether she actually knew the answer or not. I am not even sure she goes through the review process when she sees the answer as to whether she actually knew it. And if she did not know, you would think maybe there should be some empathy for the contestant, but this is not the case and they are all just 'stupido'. In respect to the Mexican soap operas, there are lots of 'ooohs and ahhhhs' with a liberal number of 'ah fanculo' and 'stupido' sprinkled in. And while I have never really watched one of these for any length of time, they definitely are a bit racy. There is a part of me that wonders how much critical thinking is going on with respect to the fictitious nature of these stories. She has on occasion suggested that there may be things going on in her life, or more accurately she observes in the rest of the household that are the same issues she has seen on these shows. If only our lives were that interesting!

She will not go to bed until her daughter comes home. I guess old habits are hard to break, or maybe you never stop being a mother. She will also stay up for her grandkids, although she is 'off duty' the second my wife gets home with respect to being responsible for her grandkids. If I were to come home but my wife is not home, she will stay up until my wife returns. Clearly she has a lot of confidence and respect for my abilities to be at least a quasi-responsible parent and manage the welfare of the rest of the family. I suspect she thinks that both my wife and I are pretty incompetent as parents and that she has to stay alive to make sure her grandkids make it to adulthood and leave the nest or something like that?

As I have suggested earlier, she is superstitious and another way this manifests itself is trying to predict the outcome of important events by playing solitaire. This is particularly true for upcoming events with her grandchildren. I will come downstairs and Mamma has busted out the playing cards and will have a hand of solitaire going on the couch. I am not exactly sure how prediction happens with solitaire, but there are times I will ask her what the outcome will be of the event she is concerned about, and I will get a thumbs up or down. Clearly there is no analysis going on relative to the accuracy of the cards, much less the rationality of the practice altogether. 

I have found myself on occasion trying to fight her on some of the practices I find ridiculous. For instance, in this period of converting to HD television, I have shown her more times than I care to say that if she adds one thousand to her favorite channel, it will be in HD. I show her that the picture is clearly better and on top of it, the old stations have a giant black border of the unused screen. I will change channel 56, the Food Network to 1056 and then point out the difference in the HD picture, after having shown the deficiencies of the old channel. And despite my efforts, she will have gone back about ten minutes later to the older channel.

She also loves to throw stuff away if it does not get stuffed first. Everyone in the family harasses her about this, but stuff gets chucked all the time, except for bread. She also won't allow us to use 'every last drop' of food. If there is some left in a bottle or Tupperware, she will throw it away and open a new one. Sometime what is left over is a fair amount. She has some internal clock that decides, this has got to go and suffice it to say, her clock does not run nearly as long as my clock does. This habit I find is a contradiction to her childhood during WWII, but her actions clearly prove that I am wrong and this is not the case. Needless to say, I am quite good at fishing stuff out of the garbage.

This is James Vernazza in a family picture with his wife Sara (Mamma), daughter Mandy and mother Nona. I believe this was taken in May of 1971. He was a dentist and passed away 1994 from cancer, probably the result of his radiation exposure at work.…

This is James Vernazza in a family picture with his wife Sara (Mamma), daughter Mandy and mother Nona. I believe this was taken in May of 1971. He was a dentist and passed away 1994 from cancer, probably the result of his radiation exposure at work. He was survived by his twin brother and sister, both of whom have subsequently passed away.

My kids and I only know Mamma and for this side of our family, her husband is merely a name, James Vernazza. My kid’s grandfather is known only through images they have seen from pictures. I never met him either. He died of cancer shortly before I met my wife. From all accounts, he was a good husband, father and I suspect would have been a good grandfather. I think about the fact that there is this hole in our family and yet it just sort of is 'what it is'. My mother-in-law does not really talk about him much and if she did, because of our language challenges, I suspect I would be somewhat oblivious of her remembrances whenever they arise. RIP James Vernazza, I wish I had the chance to meet you.

Mamma lives in a bedroom downstairs. She is often the first one up in the morning so that she can get her grandson's snack and breakfast together in anticipation of his day at school; god forbid the prince do it himself. On occasion, she is not the first one up and when I come down and see that her door is closed, I always wonder if today is the day. I am convinced that she is just going to 'keel over' one day and die - I hope it is quick. She is 'strong as a horse' all things considered and so hopefully it will not be for a while, but this scenario is certainly on the horizon and a real possibility. I dread that day.

Sara Vernazza is an extraordinary woman and her family is lucky to have her in our lives. Her contributions have and will continue to be considerable. She is fiercely protective and caring about the well-being of her offspring, and for an Italian grandmother, that is exactly the way it should be. Molto bene!

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The Fear of Death has caused so much Death

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The Fear of Death has caused so much Death

Why do we have religion? This is a topic I think about a lot. I am not religious and as I have aged, I think the need for religion becomes unnecessary in a world of reason and science. This is the half-full view. The other side of this coin is that I think there is a strong case to be made that religion is also quite destructive, and should be eliminated accordingly.

The Crusades were a campaign aimed at recovering the ‘Holy Land’ from Muslim rule. The term "Crusades" is also applied to other church-sanctioned campaigns. These efforts were largely about killing others who did not pray to the exact version of the…

The Crusades were a campaign aimed at recovering the ‘Holy Land’ from Muslim rule. The term "Crusades" is also applied to other church-sanctioned campaigns. These efforts were largely about killing others who did not pray to the exact version of their God. While the Crusades were specifically the result of Christian doctrine, this view is generally shared amongst all religions.

So with that in mind, I think the first reason we have religion is this innate feeling mankind has that there is a higher power. We are prone to ponder our existence and the meaning of life. As we explore this intellectual rabbit hole, one possibility is that our purpose is the result of this powerful guiding hand. I must confess that I too wonder about this possibility. Even today, I cannot totally rule out the possibility that there is a creator, but our growing knowledge and understanding of this world strongly suggest that it is highly unlikely.

The second reason for religion is that the existence of God(s) has provided a way for us to reconcile our world and the many unknowns. From a historical perspective, it is pretty easy to understand why religion came into existence. It is not hard to imagine many thousands of years ago that events like hurricanes, earthquakes, plague, famine, the sun, moon and stars were the result of God’s creation, displeasure or affirmation. An easy answer for a world that was not well understood.

The one unknown that every human contemplates is death. This is a very scary proposition with generally two options, finality or something more. And God knows which one is more palatable. So depending on the religion and God(s) that you happen to ascribe to, you are generally provided a convenient and easily understood package that allows you to contemplate a future. In many instances, the religious answer is that we continue in some fashion whether that is in another place, like Heaven, or here on Earth provided through a new body and life. In my mind, and based on a growing knowledge of our world, there is little question that the likely reality is we only have one chance at this life. A conclusion that I find depressing and would prefer not to accept. Instead, religion lets all believe that those who go before us are in a ‘better place’, and waiting for us to allow for a grand and emotional reunion. And just to put the cherry on top, we get to remain in this place of bliss and tranquility with all those we love, for eternity. This assumes that in the only life we are certain of, we have met some moral and behavioral threshold that allows us entrance after we have been judged by our God.

So this condition of morality and good behavior during our Earthly life has a nice ancillary benefit of controlling and managing the masses. Religion has afforded many leaders the two-pronged benefit of being a source of power and being the conduit to omnipotence providing control over society. This creates a strong motivation for people in power or those who desire power, to instill these tenets in a society that is either controlled by religion or at least highly influenced by religion.

So the titled irony that our fear of death has resulted in death for many of us is both a shocking and mysterious reality for me. The basic premise being we are religious as a result of this core fear of mortality and religion is the greatest source of premature death throughout our history; probably infant mortality is higher. Every war for the past 2000 years has been either directly or indirectly caused by religion. I would suspect that our human tribal condition is fueled by religion. In one way or another, religion is responsible for all wars and human conflict through the vast majority of human history. The result has been untold and significant death. At minimum, this is ironic. In actuality, it is a vicious circle and reality demonstrating the self-destructive nature of the human condition.

Galileo is one famous scientist that found themselves in conflict with religion. In an odd twist of fate, his scientific studies were funded by the Catholic Church. However, when he concluded that the Earth orbited the Sun, his inquisition began. Th…

Galileo is one famous scientist who found themselves in conflict with religion. In an odd twist of fate, his scientific studies were funded by the Catholic Church. However, when he concluded that the Earth orbited the Sun, his inquisition began. This is one example of the long history of science and religion being in conflict. When will the reality of science allow society at large to see that religion is no longer something modern society needs?

Today religion finds itself in an interesting period. As our society improves its knowledge and reason and can communicate this thinking to larger and larger portions of society, one would presume people will become less religious. Secularism and atheism have seen growth, particularly in the last ten years. That being said, religion still has a firm grasp on large portions of our world. Today, religion is still causing the deaths of many. And this likely will not go away anytime in the near future.

Will we ever overcome this fear as a species, or will it result in the end of humanity?

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