#FargotoSaratoga Day 2 ~ Ironwood to Port Huron

July 14, 2015

Today involved driving, trees, driving, a giant bridge, driving and even more trees. If you haven’t already figured it out, Michigan has a lot of trees.

I also learned a very important lesson: feeding seagulls is a bad idea.

But I’ll get to that in a moment.

My mom and I departed from Ironwood bright and early, and drove across the upper peninsula of Michigan to the Mackinac Bridge. This is the sixteenth largest suspension bridge in the world, and it’s over a mile long. It also happens that my mom and I are not big fans of bridges.

Putting on brave faces before crossing the bridge!

Prior to crossing we stopped at a lovely viewing park to take photos and build up our courage for the crossing. There was a wind advisory on the official bridge information radio station, which didn’t help our nerves at all. But with my mom behind the wheel and me with a camera in hand snapping photos right and left, we made it across in one piece.

The view was well worth it, with the sweeping vastness of Lake Michigan on one side and Lake Huron on the other. The water was dotted with sail boats and a large ship. Heavy cloud covering added a gray hue to the picture, but it was beautiful, no doubt.

We spent about two hours in Mackinaw City, stretching our legs and sampling the local cuisine. Apparently ice cream, fudge, and pasties are a big deal in this part of Michigan, because nearly every shop marketed one or the other.

Pasty rhymes with the word ‘nasty’ if you want an idea of how to pronounce it. But contrary to how you might think it would taste, it was actually quite enjoyable. I would describe it as a pie crust baked around a mixture of meat and vegetables. I ordered a vegetable and cheese pasty while my mom ordered chicken, which was mixed with potatoes and rutabaga.

Here enters the seagulls. We walked to a park to enjoy our pasties and the nice afternoon. A lone seagull eyed us from 50 yards away, pretending he was pecking at the ground while watching us with one eye.

“I bet if you threw him a piece he’d fly over here to get it,” my mom said.

I tossed a small piece of the breading about 10 feet from our table. The seagull screeched and flew over… along with 25 other seagulls who had apparently been watching from afar.

They swooped down and dive-bombed our table as they chased the seagull who had captured the bread. Thankfully, neither of us were pooped on, but I learned that feeding seagulls is a poor life choice.

After escaping the run-in with the seagulls, we found a quiet shoreline to wade into the cold water of Lake Huron before climbing back into our car. We trekked onward to Port Huron, which borders Ontario. We’ll pass through Canada tomorrow before entering New York!

#FargotoSaratoga Day 1 — Fargo N.D. to Ironwood M.I.

July 13, 2015

I promise I left the kitchen sink at home…

The journey has commenced, and I am currently en route to Saratoga! My mom and I pulled out of the driveway around 10 a.m. this morning, thus embarking on our journey east. The original plan was to head out around 8 a.m. But considering my keen ability to procrastinate when it comes to packing, we had to deviate from the plan.

In preparation for working at The Saratoga Special, I was assigned a bit of prep work a few weeks back that involved interviewing two trainers. Of course my number popped up on their phones as Fargo, N.D., and they both probably wondered why in Heaven’s name is there someone calling them from Fargo. One of them actually asked me, ‘Are you really from Fargo? I’ve seen the movie, it’s a classic.’

The movie Fargo is basically a legend where I’m from, although very little of the movie was actually filmed or took place in the city of Fargo. But up until last night, I had never watched it, and to be completely honest that’s probably not a bad thing. I thought it was a terrible film, although Marge, the main character was a fantastic female protagonist.

But anyways, to all of my Saratoga co-workers and friends to-be, I’ll have you know that I’m leaving my wood chipper and parka at home. However I cannot guarantee that you won’t catch me saying ‘Ya’.

Looking out onto Lake Superior

Now back to the trip. With our trusty atlas and iphone in hand (we never travel without our Rand McNally atlas from 1997) we headed east to Duluth, M.N. where we explored for a few hours. When I travel, I find that there are never enough descriptive words for me to write about my impression of the cool places we visit. But if I could describe the downtown area of Duluth in one word, it would be whimsical. When we entered the city on interstate 35, the scene was a mess of random roads and industrial mumbo jumbo.

When we found our way to the shores of Lake Superior near Canal Park, the scene transformed. A fresh, crisp air blew off the lake to balance the temperature of a brilliantly sunny day. A slight haze caused by the wildfires in Saskatchewan could be faintly detected, but did not detract from the beauty.

Draft horses pulling carriages with tourists clopped down the street along the boardwalk. Families strolled and biked by, enjoying the beautiful day. Small boats and big ships crossed under an aerial lift bridge as they left the Duluth Ship Canal and entered the vastness of Superior. Seagulls squawked as they sailed overhead.

A ship crosses under the aerial lift bridge.

My mother and I walked down the boardwalk and across the aerial lift bridge to a pier on the other side of the canal. We took in the sights on the Superior side and the harbor side of the canal before walking down a street to view a beautiful flower bed we saw from a distance.

While admiring the flowers we struck up a conversation with two delightful women who recommended that we dine at the Duluth Grill on our way out of town. The restaurant serves organic food, and they grow much of it themselves. It was delicious and I would highly recommend it, but splitting a meal would have been more than enough because the portion sizes are enormous.

We left Duluth and crossed into Wisconsin on the 535 bridge, which gave us a tremendous view of the harbor.

On our trip across Wisconsin, I read through 2014 issues of The Saratoga Special, sharing many of Sean Clancy’s “Cup of Coffee” articles with my mom.

Our final destination for the night was Ironwood, M.I. where we found the perfect little motel with a sign in front that reads “In God we trust.”

Tomorrow we journey across Michigan, so be sure to check back to read about day 2 of #FargotoSaratoga!

The Trip Jar ~ #FargotoSaratoga

July 12, 2015

Tomorrow’s the big day! This Saratoga-bound woman kicks off the first leg of her journey with her trusty partner in crime – my lovely mother. I’m so thrilled right now that I would compare myself to a minion headed to Villian-Con. Those of you who’ve seen the new movie Minions will understand that reference and have a pretty good idea of how I’m feeling. For those of you who have not, I highly recommend it if you’re looking for a good dose of cute and hilarious.

Anyways, I digress. Those of you who have been following me for a while know that I have done quite a bit of traveling this year. I spent five months in Texas interning with the American Quarter Horse Association. To return home, my mother and I road tripped through New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, South Dakota and North Dakota before we landed at our final destination – home. Along the way, I blogged about my travels, the people we met, sights we saw and what I thought of it all.

I’m going to do the same as I adventure out east to Saratoga Springs, where I will be working as an intern at The Saratoga Special, a newspaper that covers the races of the Saratoga race meet.

You may have previously noticed that my travel blogs are categorized as “The Trip Jar”. There’s a story behind this – not a long one but a meaningful one.

My mom and I enjoying our trip to Costa Rica in 2014 — an inspiration for the trip jar.

My mother and I are very close and we enjoy traveling together. We also happen to be fans of good chick flicks, one of these being the movie Monte Carlo, starring Selena Gomez. It’s the perfect movie for women out there who love adventure, travel, good friends and hot foreign guys. No matter how many times I watch this movie, it never gets old.

The main character, Grace, has always dreamt of traveling to Paris after she graduates from high school. She waitresses at a small diner, and whenever Grace and her best friend Emma receive tips, they stash them in Grace’s Paris savings jar.

You’ll have to watch the movie yourself to find out how the plot progresses, but I can almost promise that you’ll find your heart melting over and over again. Continue reading →

Of Dogs and Turtles

July 9, 2015

Kindness can be given back in the simplest of manners.

Our dog Bosco and I chilling on the 4th of July.

A few days ago my mother sent me the link to an article about two young men traveling the country in an effort to promote random acts of kindness. These include anything from buying people ice cream to paying for their laundry at a laundromat.

I love hearing stories like this, because I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of a random act of kindness.

I went through a stressful period at the beginning of my freshman year of college. I was trying to find a balance between my classes and all the activities I had going on outside of school. As a dedicated student, the stress of trying to give everything my best was beginning to wear on me. On my way home one night, I stopped at a gas station to fill up my tank. When I went inside to pay, the girl at the checkout informed me that the man in front of me had already paid for my gas. I got into my car and cried. It was such a generous and thoughtful gesture, especially since the man was there with what appeared to be a van filled with his family.

Over the past week, I have encountered myself in two interesting situations involving animals in need of help. I wouldn’t necessarily call these random acts of kindness, but rather circumstantial acts, more-so.

Several years back on our way to the lakes, my mom and I passed by a turtle in the middle of the road. We turned around to grab him and put the poor little guy in the ditch, only to watch him get squished by another car, right before our eyes.

Ever since then I have had a turtle paranoia. I hate seeing animals dead on the roadsides, so I find myself constantly scanning for turtles on our way to the lakes. Continue reading →

Country Road Courtesy

July 3, 2015

It’s important to be respectful of equestrians along the roadway for everyone’s safety.

When I lived in Texas, one of the things I missed the most about home was the peace and quiet of the country. I wasn’t used to hearing cars driving past my window late at night or sirens blaring across town.

At home, I can sleep with my windows wide open and listen to the tranquil sounds of crickets chirping, frogs croaking and the distant call of coyotes.

The country also makes for a peaceful atmosphere to ride my horses. The gravel road that runs by our house sees maybe 20 cars in an entire day. My favorite time to head out and ride is right away in the morning when the air is cool and the grass is still damp from dew. There’s one driver in particular who passes me nearly every morning. I figure he’s on his way to work, but he always slows down and waves.

I’m thankful for drivers like this who are respectful of sharing the roadway with equestrians. Unfortunately, I can’t give this credit to every driver who passes me. I have two main points of contention with gravel road drivers. Continue reading →

Reunited At Last

June 25, 2015June 26, 2015

Nothing can replace the experience of going to the races.

Up until Thursday, June 18^th, it had been roughly 10 months since I had been to the races.

Ten. Agonizing. Months.

When summer rolls around and I get to spend time at the track, I live in a state of child-like excitement, never tiring of the sights, smells and overall experience of horse racing. But reality hits when the seasons turn and Minnesota transforms into an arctic wonderland of 30-below temperatures and feet upon feet of snow.

Ain’t nobody racing in that stuff, so back to school I go and without fail, I begin suffering from horse racing “withdrawals.”

Trying to liken this concept to addictive and/or illegal substances is inappropriate, considering the sensitive nature of the topic and my lack of experience in that category. But to me horse racing is addicting. When I go to the races I become what many would call “high on life.” I get caught up in the atmosphere of the crowd, the powerful equine athletes and the breathtaking action of racing.

So it would only make sense that when I leave the racetrack for extended periods of time, it takes me a while to come down from the high.

On Thursday, June 18^that approximately 7:30 p.m., I was reunited with my love of horse racing at Canterbury Park. Walking through the gates and breathing in the smell of horses, cigarette smoke and sweet summer air was like slipping on a favorite pair of jeans that fit just right.

Although the weekend was meant to be a solo business trip of sorts, I still found time to catch up with old friends and colleagues and make new ones, in addition to conducting interviews and working on stories.

I conducted five interviews with people who have been drawn to the world of racing: a trainer, breeder, jockey, paddock analyst and a group of youngsters with the potential to have a promising future in horse racing. The uniqueness of each person’s background that led them into racing was fascinating.

The trainer rode donkeys as a boy before discovering a racetrack near his home. The breeder grew up on a thoroughbred farm and inherited her parent’s love of racing. The jockey watched the Kentucky Derby on TV and decided racing was his life calling. The paddock analyst fell in love with Point Given during his racing career. And the youth participated in the Minnesota Quarter Horse Racing Association’s ‘Youth Day at the Races.”

Sometimes it’s a particular horse or experience that attracts people to the sport, and other times it’s simply fate.

The highlight of my weekend took place on Saturday when I assisted with “Youth Day at the Races.” Aside from being a scholarship competition, the event grants youth ages 14 through 18 the opportunity to learn about horse racing, even if they’ve had zero exposure to the sport. The morning started at 8 a.m., and the six participants spent their entire day learning about racehorses, training, nutrition, care, tack, entries, announcing, media… You name it, they probably learned about it!

At the end of the day, each of the youth took an exam to determine who would receive the scholarship. One of the girls told me before the test that she really didn’t care about winning – it was the experience of being at the track that meant the most to her.

Amen sister. Amen.

What a Beautiful Sport It Is

June 9, 2015June 9, 2015

As American Pharoah swept the Triple Crown, a sigh of relief and a breath of fresh air swept through the horse racing industry.

My mom and I enjoyed the trails at 4-H horse camp.

It’s taken me a while to gather my reeling thoughts after American Pharoah’s breathtaking sweep of the Triple Crown. This Triple Crown season was fulfilling in a way that I’ve never felt before, and I think others felt that way as well.

Leading up to the Kentucky Derby, I was skeptical about the hype surrounding American Pharoah. For the past few years I’ve sensed that the racing industry is looking for a hero. We hold our breath each year as we wait on his or her arrival, but end up with a feeling of emptiness and longing.

The first year I really began following the Triple Crown was in 2008 when Big Brown swept me and countless others off our feet in the Kentucky Derby and Preakness. I was attending 4-H horse camp at the time of the Belmont, which inconveniently lacked a television for me to watch the race. I called one of my friends and she held the phone up to her TV so I could listen to the call. I remember standing outside of the camp dining center with tears running down my face when I realized Big Brown had not only missed out on the Triple Crown, but had ended the race without a fighting chance.

Continue reading →

Lafayette to Home

June 1, 2015

Interesting attractions but Long days of driving.

Friday, May 29

This morning we were greeted by a beautiful breakfast prepared by my cousin and her fiance. If there’s one thing we have been blessed with throughout this trip it has been caring, compassionate people who are willing to help us in order to make our trip easier. I especially appreciate the kindness of these two and how they warmly welcomed us into their home.

The majority of the day involved driving, driving and… oh wait, more driving! We went north through Colorado, making a pit-stop in Fort Collins to visit a dear friend, and passed through the southeast corner of Wyoming as we headed to South Dakota. There was also a considerable amount of rain along the way, and I contemplated a return to Amarillo so I could grab my newly-constructed arc to navigate the water-soaked roads.

Our final destination for the day was a visit to the Crazy Horse Monument near Hill City. One objective to blogging about my travels is to tell you my opinion on certain sights and places. In all honestly, I was rather disappointed in the monument itself, considering it was commissioned in 1947 and they only have the face completed. However, the museum and visitors center was very educational. My mom and I watched a demonstration of Native American dances, and were picked out of the crowd to participate in the “Snake Dance,” which symbolized friendship. It was actually quite fun and a very unique experience.

If you plan on visiting the Crazy Horse monument any time soon, my best advice is to go on the Trip Adviser website and read reviews — both bad and good — to decide if it’s something you’re willing to spend $11 on.

Saturday, May 30

Mount Rushmore is an American icon, and something I think is important to see at some point in life. I can now check that one off my bucket list. The monument itself is quite spectacular, and I enjoyed learning about the history behind it. The site of the monument was well done in a way that grandly showcased American pride for our states and Mount Rushmore itself. There was a museum, gift shop, outdoor stage of some sort and the Presidential Trail, which was a short hike to the base of the monument for close-up photos.

We intended on scoping out another hiking trail not far from Mount Rushmore, but somehow managed to get incredibly lost and turned around. The maps were pretty confusing and not well marked, and that’s coming from two people who’ve relied on reading atlases rather than smart phones for directions. The maps combined with road construction led to our driving back and forth and in circles several times until we gave up and decided to head home.

At one point we landed in Keystone where we pulled over to ask for directions. We both commented on how touristy the area is. If you’re looking for off-the-map places frequented by the locals, Keystone and the nearby towns are not where you want to be. But the Black Hills were beautiful and Mount Rushmore was extraordinary, so don’t rule out this place for your next vacay.

The drive home was rather boring, and after a week of crazy adventures, my mom and I were both ready to be at home in our own beds. I think my mom thought I had gone slightly crazy when I insisted on reading about the contenders for the 2015 Belmont Stakes to her in Spanish. After what seemed like a gazillion hours of driving over hill and dale, we pulled into our driveway.

There’s nothing like the feeling of being home again.

Santa Fe NM to Lafayette CO

May 29, 2015

Wednesday, May 27

This morning we woke up and headed straight to the Georgia O’Keefe Museum of Art. I’ve heard of Georgia O’Keefe before, but never paid much attention to her artistic style or way of life. After learning more about her at the museum, I realized that she lived in Canyon, Texas, for a period of time while teaching. This jogged my memory and I realized I had read about her in the Panhandle Plains Museum in Canyon.

The Georgia O’Keefe museum was classy but not over the top, and I didn’t feel out of place wearing worn-out jeans and a sweatshirt. I don’t consider myself much of an artsy-fartsy person in the sense that I could scrutinize a piece of artwork for hours, but I do appreciate beautiful things. I loved her use of colors and texture in her abstract pieces.

Fun fact about Santa Fe: apparently if you get lucky enough to find a broken parking meter like we did, you can remain parked there for around two hours without paying and you won’t receive a ticket. I received this information from a few business-y looking women walking by along the street, so don’t quote me, but they also said your car cannot be towed, and the worst thing that could happen is you might receive a ticket. We experienced neither and remained parked there for two hours, so it appears they were right. Traveling on a budget is even easier when you can cheat the parking meters!

After the museum we proceeded to walk around a plaza area that was about two blocks away. Santa Fe was so cute and adorable and beautiful all at the same time that I could have cried. As much as we’re trying to be all footloose and fancy free and not be locked down with travel plans, we’re still under a time constraint with all the other places we want to visit before we head home. I’m already planning my return trip to see more of Santa Fe. Next time I’m going to travel to Amarillo, take in the musical “Texas,” loop down to Ruidoso for a day of racing, drive up to Albuquerque, take the “Rail Runner” train to Santa Fe and spend several days taking in the sights… Maybe next summer!

Onward and upward! We took the Taos Highway from Santa Fe to Taos. The scenery was beautiful and the road seemed to be far from dangerous, but there was an incredible amount of crosses scattered alongside the road denoting car crash fatalities. If we would have counted there was probably more than 30, which deeply saddens me. Hug your loved ones today and drive safely. Put phones away, designate a driver or slow down a bit. Whatever it takes to arrive home safely.

When we reached the outskirts of Taos we veered off onto a different path which took us past various campgrounds and eventually to the Vista Verde trail head. In Spanish, vista verde literally means “green view.” A woman we spoke to at a visitor center pronounced it Vista Vur-dee, which I got a kick out of. The word verde is pronounced vair-deh if you’re speaking Spanish.

The trail itself was beautiful, and we hiked a bit over a mile to an overlook above the Rio Grande. It doesn’t even pay to try and explain how spectacular the view was, because neither words nor pictures do it justice.

After arriving back at our car we drove up a steep gravel road to the top of the gorge. Down the road a ways was the Rio Grand Gorge Bridge. This bridge is huge, and I mean seriously HUGE!!! Despite both of our irrational fears of bridges, my mom and I walked all the way across and back, and then drove over it. The stress of the experience might have taken a few years off of my life, but I sure hope not!

Based on the suggestion of a woman we met along the road while passing through Taos, we stopped for supper at a Mexican Restaurant called “La Cueva.” I ordered their ceviche while my mom got some sort of seafood enchiladas, and we both ordered smoothies. No kidding, this was probably some of the best food I have ever eaten in my life. In was heavenly, and I thought my mom was going to cry tears of joy after the first few bites of her food. The prices were also very reasonable and the place exuded charm. If you happen to pass through Taos, a stop at La Cueva is a must.

From Taos we rode the Enchanted Highway to Red River where we stayed at the Riverside Lodge, which was far from the one-star hotels we’ve been frequenting. The place was adorable and incredibly reasonable in price. The cozy atmosphere of this little ski lodge motel made for a very comfortable nights rest.

Thursday, May 29

I’m going to keep this short and sweet because it’s late and I’m about to fall asleep on top of my laptop.

This morning we took off and drove the Enchanted Highway to Questa, New Mexico, where we then headed north into Colorado along scenic back roads. I couldn’t even tell you where we were, but I saw some of the most gorgeous scenery EVER. I absolutely cannot express enough how in awe I am of God’s creation. (The photo below was taken after we crossed into CO)

We made a pit-stop in San Luis, the oldest town in Colorado, and hiked to the top of a large hill/small mountain to see the Stations of the Cross Shrine. This trail was lined with statues of Jesus, and told the story of his persecution and eventual death on the cross. It was beautiful and moving. The trail ended with a small Catholic temple nestled at the top of the hill. The final statue is of Jesus ascending into Heaven with his arm outstretched in the air. As my mom and I were taking pictures of the statue, a small bird flew over and landed on His outstretched hand and sung a beautiful song. It was one of those perfect moments that you don’t forget. This short climb was my favorite part of our adventure thus-far.

From there we proceeded to Colorado Springs where we hiked some more and took in the scenery. I risk sounding redundant, but I really cannot express how beautiful this place was. This entire trip has been beautiful.. and amazing.. and beautiful.

We made it to Lafayette, Colorado, where we’re staying the night with my lovely cousin and her wonderful fiance. You’ll hear from me tomorrow in South Dakota!

Amarillo to Santa Fe

May 27, 2015

Within less than a day’s drive away from Amarillo, the landscape transforms from pancake-flat to beautiful rugged peaks.

Monday, May 25

My mom and I rolled out of Amarillo right before noon on Memorial Day. It was a later start than we originally anticipated because I put my procrastinating skills to the test and waited to pack a large amount of my stuff on the morning of our departure. I really think that I should get an award or something, because it truly takes talent to wait that long to start packing without totally stressing out. Perhaps I was just in denial that I have to leave so many amazing people back in Amarillo!

Our destination for day #1 was Albuquerque, New Mexico. Our trip was fairly uneventful except for a quick stop in the Edgewood city Walmart parking lot to visit a dear friend (classy, right?). One of my pals from AQHA suggested that we make a quick stop in Santa Rosa to check out the Blue Hole. Essentially it’s a large pool of water more than 80 feet deep that is popular for scuba diving. We dropped in to take a quick peek and see what the place was all about. My mom is scuba diving certified and I’ve always wanted to learn, so the Blue Hole inspired me to pursue my goal of taking scuba diving lessons this summer. The place isn’t exclusive to divers either, and for a $5 parking fee anyone can go and take a dip in the waters, which apparently remain around 60 degrees year-round. There are lifeguards on duty and a few diving platforms to add to the fun. I hope to return someday to check out the deeps from a divers perspective.