Farewell, Portland

The rugs are up, the pictures are down. Bare floors and walls give an echo to every heavy box thud and pull of the packing tape roll. There’s no doubt about it anymore…it’s time to go.

My earliest impressions of Portland were negative. It was a stopover, a place to grab a coffee or perhaps some dried mango and move on. Each time, I came in via the seedy section of Congress Street, turning up my nose at Maine’s “biggest” city.

You could almost call it fate. Other options having failed, Portland was a choice more of resignation than inspiration. And yet, it didn’t take long for the city to open itself to me, revealing treasures that only local eyes could see.

What will I miss about Portland?

That fishy smell that greets me as I step out the door? Yes.
The lovely manicured lawn outside my workspace window? Yes.
The skyline, spiked with church steeples? Yes.
The fine variety of eating establishments, some say the most per capita of any U.S. city? Yes.
Evening walks through the Old Port. Yes.
Those damned cobblestone streets? Sure.
The flocks of seagulls, yelping into the night? Probably, but not for a while.
The tourists on Commercial Street? Well…
My daily morning bun from Standard Baking Co.? Hell yes!

Nine and a half months. That’s all it was. But I’m happy to count Portland among the cities I’ve lived in and to which one day I could return.

Green Mountains, Blue Water

“I remember this!” I laughed to myself as the bike wobbled out of the driveway and onto the shoulder of Route 7, just north of Burlington, VT. It was the first time since 2006 that my bike had felt the heavy load of panniers.

The week before the 4^th of July, and it was time to test out some new equipment with a two-day tour through the islands of Lake Champlain. In fact, my panniers were heavier than ever before, now loaded with camping gear in addition to the usual clothes, tools, spares, and odds and ends. The unfamiliar weight took a few miles to get used to.

That first day was a tough one, my legs burning with the pain of atrophied muscles, my hands numb from gripping the bars too tight. But there was also all that makes cycle touring worth it: sweet breezes blowing off fields of wildflowers, grain silos gleaming like mirrors in the bright sun, a down-home lunch of chicken strips and French fries, a stop for fresh-picked strawberries, and that endless whiz of the drive train, unstoppable.

Lake winds were high, but the temperature was pleasant and I opted to continue all the way to Grand Isle State Park, near the southern tip of the islands. It was brimming with campers who’d arrived a day early to secure a spot for Burlington’s annual 3^rd of July fireworks.

I set up my quaint 6’x3’ tent, pumped 75 cents into the hot water machine in the bathroom for a refreshing shower, whipped up a meal of freeze-dried curry, and promptly passed out.

The wind was howling long before I regained full consciousness the next morning. When I finally popped my head out the zippered flap to take a look, I decided it was time to go. Fast.

From the west, gray-black clouds were tailing the wind. Despite their ominous appearance, though, I’d made it out of the state park, through the town of South Hero, over the causeway to the mainland, and back to Route 7 before the first drops fell. From there, it was only a few miles’ ride in the drizzle back to my starting point.

My body ached, but it had been a successful trial run. The new gear—tent, stove, pad, and the rear rack bag to carry it all—had worked as it should. Still, I couldn’t believe that in exactly one month, I’d be setting out on the real thing…

…a five-week tour through Maritime Canada! Just about 20 days to go now. But more on that later.

Highlights from Puerto Rico

Well, I've obviously taken quite the break from blogging in recent weeks--justified to some extent, I think. Ten of those days were spent touring La Isla del Encanto, Puerto Rico. Not a terribly lengthy stretch with which to cover an entire island nation (sorry, free associated state), but I was amazed at how much of this stunningly diverse slice of earth I was able take in, armed only with a rental car, a tent, and a shamefully inadequate command of the Spanish language. Here are a few highlights from the journey:

El Yunque

This is an obligatory stop for most people on the island, from lifelong locals to passengers on the seemingly innumerable cruise ships at berth in San Juan Bay. And for good reason. This national park encompasses a tropical rainforest perched on the slopes of one of Puerto Rico's highest mountain ranges. It's visible from many different locations on the island, peaks shrouded in dense clouds.

Simply accessing the park is an adventure in itself. The provocatively narrow, switchback road leading up to the Palo Colorado Visitors Center prepared me well for similar mountain "highways" I encountered later in the trip. The hikes I managed were fantastic, including one that led me to the top of El Yunque peak itself. Getting an early start, I was fortunate enough to beat the clouds to the summit, enjoying several minutes of unobscured views back to the coast.

Laguna Grande and the dynoflagellates

Puerto Rico's three bioluminescent bays are another big draw. The best supposedly belongs to Vieques, an island just off the east coast, but being strapped for time I opted to check out this one at the northeastern tip of the main island.

Wow. The tour was a bit pricey but more than worth it. Along with a group of around 15, I cast my kayak into the ocean waves at 9pm and followed the guide through the pitch-blackness of a mangrove canal until the lagoon opened up before us. With every paddle stroke, every ripple, the water exploded in neon blue as billions of microorganisms fired their photosynthetic flares in self-defensive instinct. A remarkable sight, unfortunately impossible for me to capture on camera. Check out these shots to get an idea.

Winding through the Central Mountains


These are the island's spine, a rugged wall of stone dividing north from south. Again, navigating the roads and living to tell about it was half the fun. But I also spent two nights at a coffee-plantation-turned-tourist-hacienda at the foot of the tallest mountain in Puerto Rico. Of course I had to climb it. The terrain was wild, a far cry from the strip malls and stop lights that plague the flat coastal areas.

Bosque Estatal de Guajataca

After pretty much circumnavigating the entire island, this was my last stop before retiring to the comforts of San Juan. I started sweating well before the hike began, as getting there required passage along the most perilous road yet, as well as a Spanish pop quiz to locate the trail head.

Without much change in elevation, and nowhere near the biodiversity on offer in El Yunque, I wouldn't call the Interpretive Trail a thrill ride by any means. What it led me to--that's a different story.

The limestone that underlies this portion of the island contains some immense caverns. I'd been somewhat disappointed the previous day on my visit to the nearby Camuy River Caverns Park, as the main cave chamber was closed. But Guajataca Forest and its Cueva del Viento more than made up for it. This was one impressive cave, and I was free to explore it to my heart's content.

Old San Juan

I must admit I was completely unprepared for the charms of Old San Juan. So much of my trip preparation had gone into researching the rest of the island that I had all but neglected its crown jewel.

The historic section is on par with that of Quebec City...only better. Bright colors, narrow cobblestone streets, and a picturesque fortress to boot. Of course, my two nights in the Gran Hotel El Convento didn't hurt, either. San Juan left me wishing I had budgeted more time to relax in its Old World opulence, for all too soon I was bidding farewell to the island of enchantment.

Requiem for the Shades

I went down to my car on Wednesday morning to find both doors cracked open and the contents of their side compartments strewn on the gravel. Obviously, Tuesday night was a bad time to forget to lock up.

The only thing the crooks made off with (apart from a tray full of quarters--damn!) was my sunglasses. My PRESCRIPTION aviator-style sunglasses! Now, honestly, I wouldn't mind giving a pair of shades to some homeless guy who might have an aversion to sunny days. But unless this fellow is as blind as I am, I'm sure my glasses ended up in a ditch somewhere, no good to anybody.

Yes, it could have been much worse. They ransacked the glove box but left the registration and insurance documents. They overlooked the case full of burned CDs. They very well could have trashed the car, but they didn't. I'm grateful.

But my poor sunglasses! I bought them in Seoul for use on my Southeast Asia bike trip, and they were definitely a good purchase. Ah...how many sights we saw together.

What follows is a visual requiem of sorts. I recommend humming the song "Memories" as you scroll down.

Here were are...


...chillin' with the tomb guards near Hue, Vietnam...


...crossing the Mekong on a wooden pallet in Laos...


...swarmed by grade-schoolers near Siem Reap, Cambodia...


...keeping our distance from Thai elephants...


...crashing the island of the The Man with the Golden Gun...


...admiring the spires of Kuala Lumpur's Petronas Towers...


...and posing with Mom on the coast of Oahu.

So long, shades. You shall be missed!

Dream Trips, Vol. 2: 12 Months, 12 Cities

What avid traveler wouldn't want to circumnavigate the globe? Luckily, there's an airfare deal designed specifically for the journey: the round-the-world (RTW) ticket. Most of the major airline alliances--SkyTeam, Star Alliance, Oneworld--offer one. Basically, you choose a time frame and a number of stops, and you can go anywhere in either an eastward or westward direction, without backtracking, until you make it back to your point of origin.

Combine this product with the belief that it would take a month to truly become immersed in one of the world's biggest cities, and you get this dream trip. A month-long stay in each destination would allow me to rent an apartment, get to know the ins and outs of the local culture and find under-the-radar attractions, and probably take some short side trips as well. Now, RTW tickets, though good value, do cost a pretty penny (which is why this isn't a "reality trip"), but if I were ever able to make this happen, here's a rundown on the cities that would be under consideration.

Region 1: Western Hemisphere
To start off, I'd head to Latin America, probably squeezing in two cities. Mexico City seems like an obvious choice, although that would mean limiting myself to one South American destination: Santiago or Buenos Aires. All three of these cities are situated in regions I'd love to explore, and the fact that I speak a little Spanish would mollify any culture shock or trip anxiety I might otherwise experience.

Region 2: Europe
Honestly, I could skip it altogether. Yes, there are some fantastic cities here, but I've been to Western Europe three times now and I feel done. Stockholm and Belgrade sound the most appealing but would be towards the bottom of the overall list.

Region 3: Africa
My grasp of sub-Saharan Africa is weak at best, so I haven't even thought about the lower half of the continent. Along the Mediterranean, Tunis beckons me with its ancient history, and then of course there's Cairo. But that would depend on what I decided in the next category.

Region 4: Middle East
Yes, Cairo is actually in the Middle East, and it's also quite close to my next two candidates--Istanbul and Damascus. I'd likely have to choose one out of these three. Each has its own unique history, culture, language...I really wouldn't know how to decide. Hopefully I'd be able to make side trips to the two that didn't make the cut.

Oh yeah, and then there's Tehran. I want to go! Plenty of tourists do, and most come back with glowing reports. Come on, the stunning diversity of landscape, millennia of Persian history...the country should be on every traveler's itinerary. (Sorry, Mom, it's a part of the world I just can't pass up!)

Let's sum up. I've mentioned 10 possible cities so far, and there's still a lot of the globe left. This isn't as easy as it sounds!

Region 5: India
My knowledge is lacking, but I'd have to get one city in! Any suggestions?

Region 6: East Asia
Oh, the options. You could easily condense this entire trip within China's borders, so choosing just one city would be difficult. I've been to Shanghai and Hong Kong so would likely opt for Beijing. That would allow me to visit Mongolia again (yay!). But southern China really intrigues me.

I'm saving Seoul for a different trip, but Tokyo would be hard to say no to, even though I've been twice. It's such a major metropolis. And the same goes for Bangkok. Moving on, since Indonesia is one of the few Southeast Asian countries I didn't make it to, Jakarta would go on the list.

Region 7: Australia/Oceania
It's its own continent, after all, so it demands a visit. I hear Melbourne and Sydney are both cool, and perhaps I'd be able to skip over to New Zealand for a week or so.

Phew...so there. The scope of this one couldn't be much broader, but you're supposed to dream big, right?

Taking to the Hills

Last weekend, to take advantage of the tail-end of a period of extraordinarily beautiful weather, I hopped in the car and drove up the coast to Camden Hills State Park. It's a two-hour jaunt along Route 1, through small towns ranging from the quaint and picturesque to the gritty and industrial. The town of Camden itself is probably the most attractive of the bunch. Nestled around a small harbor in Penobscot Bay, its maritime shops and eateries create a pleasant, though touristy, atmosphere.

The park lies just up the road from the town. Bordered on the west by Lake Megunticook and by the sea on the east, there are plenty of fine views once you gain a little elevation. The main park area is dominated by two peaks: Mount Battie and Mount Megunticook. A paved public road climbs to the top of the former, making it by far the more popular, while Megunticook is both taller and more isolated.

Of course, I didn't know any of this at the time. From the parking lot, I struck out on a trail to Mt. Battie, since that was the name I was more familiar with. It was a disappointing hike, keeping me within sight of the road most of the time. Although I was rewarded with some great views at the top, near the tower, my urge to embrace nature had not been satisfied.

I weighed my options, standing there among the Canadian sightseers and local picnickers. I had no water and no map. Oh yeah, and I was wearing flip-flops. Not the brightest choice for footwear, I realize, but having read that the Camden area is known as "the soft-adventure capital of the world," I had figured the park's hikes couldn't be too strenuous.

Despite the factors working against me, I decided to retrace my path and hook up with a cross trail I had seen heading in the direction of Mt. Megunticook. Leaving the road and all its people behind, I set out.

It was a steep climb in spots but not too long, and soon I had reached Megunticook's Ocean Lookout, flip-flops and all. From atop the high cliff, the landscape looked spectacular, the crisp breeze smelled fresh, and I felt fulfilled. Not even the trail mud squishing through my open toes on the way down could detract from the experience. Next time, though, I'll try to put a little more effort into planning!