St. Martin Scuba

In July I finally started my shark search in full force. As I have plans to write a book on sharks, I figured it's probably best I work with them up close. A few years ago I met nine Great Whites off the coast of South Africa. But since the Caribbean sharks don't swim close to my shores, I decided to go to them.

So I started my scuba certification at Ocean Explorers in Simpson Bay, Sint Maarten. This group was fantastic. I felt that I truly belonged with them, and they shared my love of ocean life, as they should.

We went on four dives total and I told them every morning we should go where the sharks are. Although some other divers disagreed, I finally got my way on the last two dives. Aboard the boat, we drove a few miles south to a sunken bridge. This was the old bridge in the lagoon that was replaced, so it became an artificial reef for the fish. Here we found a baby nurse shark under part of the structure. Even though one instructor ensured the group that sharks don't come to this spot, I was full of glee when he found me during the dive and made the shark fin symbol. I quickly (yet slowly) swam after him to the spot of the nurse shark.

On the last dive, we went to a shipwreck a few miles off of the coast. After gaining the confidence of my instructors (they said I was a natural), I was the first one in the water descending 70 ft. As I gripped the rope and started acclimatizing so that my ears wouldn't burst, two reef sharks started circling me.

Most people would get a bit nervous. Being the only one in the water, haven dived four times in my life, with two sharks circling.

It was a dream come true. We were peas in a pod. Both so curious about each other. When I finally reached the 70ft bottom, one got so close I thought he was going to bump me. I, of course, reached out to greet him, but he quickly swam off. We were not on that level yet. I was then scolded by my instructor for trying to touch marine life. (I did my underwater head nod/shoulder shrug apology, but come on, I would have done it again).

I do not have photos from the shipwreck, as it was too deep to take my camera down. But the dives pictured above were around 40ft. And even though it was July in the Caribbean, we were cold and translucent. 

Be the Wave That I am and Then

My loyalties will not be bound by national borders, or confined in time by one nation's history, or limited in the spiritual dimension by one language and culture. I pledge my allegiance to the damned human race, and my everlasting love to the green hills of Earth, and my intimations of glory to the singing stars, to the very end of space and time. - Edward Abbey

Nature is everything. Photos taken in Bavaria in October 2016. 

Schloss Neuschwanstein

The reclusive King Ludwig II of Bavaria built the "New Sandstone Castle" in the 1800s.  Down the hill and up the next is another castle, the residence of a princess.  A few minutes drive puts you in Füssen, another incredibly picturesque town with immaceuly clean streets, orderly shops, and– of course– a castle.  Mulled wine and bratwursts wait outside the tour's entrance; just about every entrance in Germany for that matter. Although the castle is built on a hill with much bigger German Alps in the background, King Ludwig II had a killer view of the town below and surrounding lake.  He was a weirdo, but he had style. 

The South Rim: Skeleton's Point

On the 12 of October, I crossed off a major bucket list item. The day before I was in Sedona climbing Bell Rock, playing with a 14-year-old tarantula named Rosie, and buying BBQ flavored mealworms. It was a great day. After falling in love with the uber expensive town, I took off for the Grand Canyon Village. I arrived at night which was difficult because I lacked a GPS or internet, there were no street lights inside the neighborhood, and I had surprise encounters with massive elks in the road. However, I arrived safely and headed for bed by 9 to start my next day's trek. 

I was suited up well before the sun and made way to find a bus that would carry me to the trailhead. With both a coffee and tea in each hand, I got on the blue line to start the adventure. My bus had some other early birds, mostly Asian tourists who were also seeing the canyon for the first time. As we passed the an opening in the trees I saw a glimpse of the canyon and started hyperventilating. Literally in awe, which I've never felt so intensely before, I sat there with my new Chinese companions and held back my tears while making sputtering noises. 

What I didn't realize was that the trail takes you down into the canyon and then back up. I imagined my hike would be on the rim and from up high. Nope. I went straight down for three miles and then straight back up. (Later I found out I had hiked the entire 10K with a sea urchin still stuck in my foot!) Anyways, I went down the canyon in sweat pants, gloves, ear muffs and a flannel. The first part of the hike is shaded from the sun, but once it's out... the heat is on. I changed my sweaty clothes three times since I had forgotten a t-shirt. 

Out of hundreds of people who came during the three hours of trying to convince my legs to carry me, only one other woman made it to Skeleton's Point. Most people turned around at the Ooh Aah Point which is not far from the bus stop. I was sad for those who only stayed to look around and not explore the canyon itself. Later I understood why they didn't go through the grueling labor... I felt like the hike would never end. When I finally returned to the bus my legs wobbled like jelly, similar to how I would feel after playing a weekend soccer tournament. But it was worth every painful step. after step. after step. I was also the only one listening to music on the hike which I thought was surprising. If I hadn't been marching to a Devil Makes Three beat... I might have heeled over at some point. (This may also be the reason why no one could keep up with these chicken legs-ha) I tore in and out of the canyon in a few hours and headed back for the village to gorge on a pint of Grand Canyon Lager and a slice jalapeño pizza. Then I went on more hikes around the village and found a nice spot to catch the sunset with time lapse cameras set up. 

I boarded the last bus back to the village, snuck past two elks, and went straight to bed. Four a.m. came and I started my drive to Albuquerque (I was racing the Hertz rental people to make it back before noon). I managed a quick stop on the corner of Winslow, Arizona and sped away out of one of the most beautiful states I've ever laid eyes on.

Balloon Fiesta

The International Balloon Fiesta takes place in the first weeks of October in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

The pictures don't quite do the event justice. I have posted a time lapse video  from my Aunt's garden that gives a glimpse of how many people are involved in this. Waking up to hundreds of balloon floating over you is a pretty neat experience. 

The balloons take off before sunrise, so I was chugging tea at 5am and suiting up to try to beat the traffic to the launch park. Seven layers later, I did not beat the traffic, but being only two miles from the park it wasn't too bad. 

The Balloon Fiesta Park is so large that it had golf carts taxiing people from the parking lot to the entrance. I chose to power-stride my way down to get some feeling back into my toes. You would not believe how 'ballooned' the fiesta-goers were as well. Then again, it was not so surprising as most of the food stands consisted of burritos, deep fried burritos, cheese curds, french fries, chili burgers and the likes. Supply and demand, I guess... welcome to New Mexico! Pinon Coffee was the only healthy stop I could find (at least their beans aren't refried?). Anyways. After a few hours running around with a smile stretched over my face, I became sore and decided to pack up and head out. The morning launches are the most exciting parts of the day, so I didn't feel that I was missing out by skipping the chainsaw carvings. I've never been so happy and so cold at the same time. I did return the next night to witness the "Special Shape Glowdeo" where the balloons light up for a little show– although they stayed anchored to the ground. The Balloon Fiesta was one of the surrealist festivals I've ever been to, not to mention fall is a fantastic time to be in the Southwest. It was worth every over-priced parking pass, entrance ticket and deep fried chicken cutlet. I will be back for more.

Deep Fried Twinkies #MakeAmericaGreatAgain

Garden Break: When Plants Turn Savage

A month ago I was struggling to fend off a hungry Iguana gang from destroying my boat garden.  After many failures, help, alas, came to my rescue.  My boat garden was turned into a boat house... a wooden frame was built around it with netting stapled into the sides.  Iguanas were no longer a threat.  As my cucumber, squash and tomato plants came back from their previous states of mere stems, their growth spiralled out of control.  No longer content with the dinghy's available size, the cucumbers have pulled themselves up and out of the netting via the palm leaves.  Towering 7 feet, and still growing, the plants are efficient escape artists.  I'm willing to cut them a deal: grow up the palm tree, consume it for all I care, just start producing fruit already.  I am the one growing impatient here.