Punta Gorda Town

July 30, 2017 Teressa Jackson

In my last blog, Aaron and I had just arrived in the sleepy town of Punta Gorda (a.k.a. "PG"). PG didn't get much more exciting, with the exception of the enthusiastic storms that felt like they might carry us away to Oz each night.

My main takes on PG were that people were generally really friendly, often intoxicated, and seemed to want to give us things.

Our first experience with the generosity of locals was at the market. Gomier, a super nice guy and owner of a PG vegetarian and vegan restaurant, began talking to us about some of the produce. During the exchange, one of the vendors gave us some fruit to try. It wasn't my favorite, but Gomier was certainly a nice guy and I appreciated his hospitality.

It didn't matter if it was 10 a.m. or 7 p.m., it wasn't uncommon to encounter people who had clearly been sipping (chugging?) some rum or a few Belikin beers. One afternoon, we encountered a man who told us he went by "Taz," "The Devil," or the "Tasmanian Devil." Taz was enjoying some beers, and wanted to buy us some, too. We politely declined, but listened to him talk about his escapades around Belize and the U.S. for around the next 30-45 minutes. He apparently really liked us, because he pledged to protect us from harm from anyone around town. While nice, this was an unnecessary gesture, as we've yet to have an unkind word uttered to us by anyone in all of Belize.

We finally agreed to let Taz buy us a seaweed drink from the guy on the corner. I was a little leery, but the thick off-white concoction was actually pretty good. It was slightly sweet and tasted of nutmeg. He and his friend were adamant that it "cools the body" and that it's "good for you, it's from the sea!" True or not, I'd sip one again.

A man who told us that his name was "Bug" stumbled along beside us one day, asking where we were from and about our travels in Belize. He was insistent upon giving us some conch shells, and we gratefully accepted his gesture of hospitality.

We also renewed our tourist visa while in PG. They had an immigration office there, and as our first month in Belize was coming to a close, we were due to take care of this bit of bureaucracy. If you are in the country for an extended period of time, you must get your passport stamped every 30 days and pay a $25US fee. It was hard to believe that almost a month had already passed since we descended upon this tiny Central American country.

While the residents were kind, our time in PG had two big strikes against it. Although the town is bordered by the Caribbean Sea, there isn't a bit of real beach to speak of, and we really missed the option to enjoy a cool dip in the water. Secondly, the apartment we rented was miserably hot and humid. We rented an air conditioning unit, but it generally only made about a two degree difference, and it was almost impossible to sleep or motivate ourselves to do much of anything because of it. Yes, I suppose we are a little spoiled.

Unable to take the heat any longer, we decided to cut our time in PG short and booked a flight to San Pedro. I'm still glad that we got to experience Belize's southernmost town and its hospitable people, though.

Just outside of PG, shortly after takeoff

Hopping Down to Hopkins

July 4, 2017 Teressa Jackson

Aaron and I landed in the tiny Belize City airport around 11 a.m. on June 28. We spent around half an hour collecting our bags and clearing customs, and then met Marlon, our driver, outside. The first thing we noticed was the humidity... the Ohio Valley has nothing on Belize, which regularly sees levels of 80-90%.

Marlon of Belize Shuttles & Transfers was very friendly and told us about Belize as we drove the nearly three hours south to Hopkins. Although the distance is less than 90 miles, the roads aren't great and the speed bumps, which seem to be randomly placed along the road, are rather vicious. That's one way to keep speedometers in check.

Two kids played with bottlecaps on the Hopkins pier

We passed through Belize's capital of Belmopam, which was gone in nearly the blink of an eye. With less than 400,000 people in the entire country, there is no such thing as a big city here. After Belmopam, the landscape became more scenic, with dense jungle vegetation, citrus orchards, mountains, and even a glimpse of Mennonite farmers on a horse-drawn wagon, wearing the same conservative dress as they do in the U.S.

Hopkins is 4 miles off the main highway, and consists of only one real street (a pothole and puddle-ridden dirt road), running north to south along Hopkins Bay. The Garifuna, descendants of West African, Central African, Island Carib, European, and Arawak people, are the majority population of this village.

All Seasons Guest House, our home for the next week, is located near the edge of the south side of town. We were greeted by Becky, All Seasons' owner, who is from northern Indiana. She and her husband Gary packed up and moved down here just four months ago, and are almost constantly painting, power washing, sweeping, and fixing.

It was 3 p.m. Belize time (5 p.m. Eastern), and most restaurants were closed. We hadn't really eaten much at all, and dinner the night before had been gas station food in Indianapolis. Mango and cantaloupe smoothies and Guinness chocolate cake at the coffee shop down the street were a good way to tide ourselves over.

Lorraine, who was working at the coffee shop, made us feel right at home. After preparing our food, she followed us out to the porch and sat down with us to chat. She spent several years working on cruise ships, and her favorite location was, of all places, Alaska! Hopkins is home, though, and she recently returned with hopes of finishing her associate's degree in accounting.

The friendly faces in Hopkins certainly aren't limited to Lorraine's. As you walk down the street, most everyone greets you. Alex, who sells his creations at a shop near our guest house, is no exception. One morning he told me that he gets up every day at 5 a.m., rides his bike for an hour, swims in the ocean and is often joined by manatees, takes a shower, and starts his workday. Each time we walked by, he greeted us with a smile. Aaron had Alex make some custom guitar pics for him, and he was excited to try his hand at a new challenge. They were done in less than two hours, and the quality was fantastic.

There was a Garifuna holiday during our time at Hopkins. I didn't get the name of it, but the people drummed off and on for three days. They are known for their drum making and playing here and it was a beautiful and exotic sound. The holiday's final evening, I'm pretty sure the drumming lasted until daybreak. Apparently the occasion celebrates the dead, and takes place every three years. During that time, many of the women dressed in what looked like traditional African clothing, the fabric adorned with bright colors and patterns.

Alex, hard at work. I think this is the only time I saw him NOT smile. :-)

There are several businesses run by the Chinese in this town of 1,500 people, including pretty much all the grocery stores. As we waited on Chinese food one night, a four-year-old boy came up to our table, took my bottle cap, and began playing with it. He and Aaron began a game of "hockey" on the table with the cap, and he was more than happy to tell Aaron "You lose!" each time he failed to hit the goal he made between his two tiny hands.

Dong Lee Supermarket, where we did much of our shopping

Walking back to the room that night, we encountered a group of kids, all of whom were probably under age 7. They were "shooting" each other with sticks and boards, and we became part of the game. We became victims of a "holdup" and they loved that we played right along. After being released, we got excited fist bumps from the kids. I really wish we'd had room in our luggage to bring a few treats for them. They are so sweet.

We tried to eat at restaurants only once a day to stretch our budget, which was challenging since we had no kitchen. Between the grocery stores, fruit stand, and the back of a guy's truck, we purchased plenty of mangoes (the hugest you've ever seen), tangerines (which have a green peel here), avocados, plantain chips, tortilla chips, Marie Sharp's hot sauce, and fruit juices (soursop juice is pretty awesome). Restaurant meals consisted of mostly beans and rice for me. Aaron enjoyed chicken fried rice and one night he was served a whole fried fish, complete with head. Oh, and I can't forget the fry jacks, which are a breakfast delight - big pieces of puffed fried bread you can fill with beans, eggs, and lots of other fillings. Delicious!

We didn't go on any fishing or snorkeling excursions in Hopkins, instead spending our time walking the street, riding bicycles, sitting on the beach, swimming in the ocean, and trying to get used to the humidity. I'm not sure I have ever sweated so much in my entire life. It's been a nice place to get acclimated to Belize and to get some clue as to how things work here, although we still have a long way to go before we have it figured out.

Next up, further south to Placencia!

Bucolic Baker

May 4, 2017 Teressa Jackson

View from Mather Overlook at Great Basin National Park

When I first arrived in Baker, Nevada, I paused a bit, hoping I hadn't made a mistake. This remote outpost near the Utah border is home to a whopping 68 residents and Great Basin National Park, the reason for my visit. I had never heard of the park before I spotted a green swath on Google maps and zoomed my screen, looked it up, and learned it was one of our nation's least visited national parks. That serendipitous route seems to be how I often decide where to travel.

The lovely view from my accommodations in Baker

The town is basically a small grid of gravel streets dotted with trailers, campers, and tiny houses located in an expanse of high desert in the foothills of the South Snake Range. Most of the properties have some odds and ends strewn around their yard. The 1,200 square foot two-bedroom bungalow I owned back in New Albany would be huge in comparison to pretty much all of the residences here.

As soon as I pulled in to the last homestead at the edge of town, my host Margaret popped out to greet me. I don't see how anyone could feel anything other than comfortable with Margaret. While she hunted for my keys, she invited me in to her place and we proceeded to share a couple of glasses of wine and swap stories. What an interesting woman with an amazing life! By the time I got the key to my place, I had been invited to dinner with Margaret and her friend Beth at the only dining establishment currently operating in Baker, T&D's Restaurant.

It was Friday night and T&D's was hopping. Terry, one of the owners, was out due to a recent surgery. Patricia, another local, was filling in for him as the sole server because, as Margaret said, "That's just what we do around here."

Margaret is unable to drive due to a vision impairment, but that doesn't seem to be much trouble, even though she lives in one of the most remote locales in the United States. She helps other people, and they help her. People genuinely care about each other here. That's obvious.

Of course, I came here to visit Great Basin National Park, and that has also been a true highlight. This park is one of the most unspoiled places I've been. I've spotted as many critters as I have other visitors, including the yellow-bellied marmot, mule deer, turkeys, jackrabbits, sheep, chipmunks, mice, and birds.

I admittedly didn't do the best job researching (or much researching at all) when I decided to come here, and a good portion of the park, including the ancient bristlecone pine trees that really intrigue me, is still under several feet of snow. The road to the top of Wheeler Peak, the second highest mountain in Nevada, is still closed due to the snow levels, although on my final day I happily found it was open further than it had been when I arrived. This might be the desert, but Baker's 5,000+ foot elevation means that much of the year is frigid, with the town under a foot of snow during parts of winter. Wheeler Peak's 13,000+ foot elevation is obviously even more inhospitable and slow to melt.

Life is returning to the Strawberry Creek area

Challenge aside, the parts of the park that are accessible have been lovely, and the weather during my days here has been in the 60's and 70's with gorgeous blue skies.

I hiked in the Snake Creek Canyon area, traversing through fields of sagebrush, groves of ghostly white aspen trees, and pinyon pine and Utah juniper woodlands. It was so quiet that the creek was almost deafening and I could hear the clinking of the aspen tree branches as the wind whisked through them.

I took a peek at the Strawberry Creek area, which is closed due to a massive wildfire that destroyed nearly 5,000 acres of forest last year. There were tinges of green as the spring temperatures warmed the soil, and the blackened ghosts of trees still stood tall and animated against the mountains and sky.

The Baker Creek trail took me over the river and through the woods. Well, not so much a river as several mountain streams that were gushing with melting snowpack. I hiked up, up, up, through aspens and twisted mahogany groves, until the snow became so prevalent on the trail that I decided it would be wise to turn back. Toward the highest elevations, I spotted lots of hoof tracks. I kept my eyes peeled, but none of the critters that created them revealed themselves.

Something I learned while here is that the Great Basin, which spans much of Utah and Nevada, is so named because it is like a giant bowl, dotted and surrounded with mountains. This "bowl" used to be Lake Bonneville, the remnants of which comprise the Great Salt Lake. With nowhere to go in this region, precipitation makes its way underground, sometimes resulting in caves.

Great Basin National Park is home to a stellar example of one of these caverns, Lehman Caves, which I toured during my stay. Cave tours are the only part of Great Basin National Park that has a fee, a very reasonable $10 per person. The park itself and I'm pretty sure many of its camp sites are free to visitors. I truly think this is one of the most impressive caves I've ever visited. It's full of unique formations and home to some rare varieties of cave decor, including cave "shields" and cave "turnips."

People here have been just as warm and friendly to me as they are to one another, and this is honestly going to go down as one of the best experiences of my trip because of them. I often think of tiny places like Baker as somewhere I would be unwelcome because I wasn't "one of them." Everyone I've met has been happy to make my acquaintance and genuinely interested in me. They also have seemed pretty surprised when I share that I am staying in Baker for a week. Apparently that is unusually long. "Are you thinking about moving here?" has even been uttered once or twice.

After experiencing the hospitality and the beauty of this area, I could warm up to that question a bit... if only the climate here was a bit warmer, too.

Sunset at Great Basin National Park entrance

It's Cool to be Kind

January 6, 2017 Teressa Jackson

This kid in Old Bisbee wasn't nice to me. He pelted me with snowballs. I laughed my ass off. :-)

"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted." ~Aesop

It's certainly not an earth-shattering concept.

I probably don't really have to convince many people that being kind is a valuable thing, but sometimes we could all use a little reminder. After being largely alone on the road for the past two and a half months, away from friends, family, coworkers, and acquaintances, I've come to realize the impact of actions and words - even fleeting ones - to an even greater extent.

Yesterday, I was the recipient of two acts of kindness. I had a tire that had been running low repeatedly over the past couple weeks, so I headed to Sierra Vista, Arizona, the closest big(ish) town, to have it evaluated. I figured I had a slow leak, but also thought it was entirely possible that the folks at Discount Tire Store would tell me that I needed a set of new tires and I'd have to decide whether to take their word or not. I had never been to one of their locations, but it was one of only two options available to me, so I gave it a try.

I waited patiently for around 45 minutes, at which point a technician came and got me. I was a little taken aback when he said my car was ready, because they hadn't consulted with me on any work. He informed me that I had a nail in my tire and that they'd plugged it, and handed me an invoice.

The cost: $0.

I'm not sure if this was a company policy or not, but they certainly could have made an attempt to find a way to make some money off of me. After expressing my gratitude, I left, happy that my car wasn't tugging to the right anymore.

I also needed an oil change, so I hopped over to the Jiffy Lube next door. I know Jiffy Lube isn't the cheapest place to get your oil changed, but without knowing the local operators, a chain offers some sense of reassurance. The guys there were incredibly nice and professional, and then for some unknown reason discounted my service and threw in an extra service for free.

I hadn't shared anything about myself with any of these people, and these experiences left me feeling better than any of the workers at those places could have fathomed. I thought about it the rest of my day, as I climbed to the top of a mountain on a trail at Coronado National Memorial. I reflected on it as I cooked my dinner. I remembered it as I lay in bed drifting off to sleep.

In fact, I began recounting my entire trip in my head, remembering the interactions I've had with people along the way. Admittedly, being social has never come easy to me, especially in an unfamiliar environment. My interactions with others have been pretty sparse, and honestly, I think I can remember nearly every time I've spoken with another human being, no matter how fleeting, since leaving home. I can certainly recall every time they have been kind.

I hope I have occasionally had the same effect on someone else's day as these people have on mine. I may not be rich, but as one of my favorite sayings goes, "It costs $0.00 to be a decent human being."

Truth.

In closing, thank you to a few of the kind faces while on the road:

The hospitable guy working at the museum at Eureka Springs, Arkansas
The kind Scottish woman who owned the hotel in Hot Springs, Arkansas
The enthusiastic couple who just got engaged on the Talimena Scenic Byway
All of the incredibly warm, sweet, and friendly folks working at the Cherokee Heritage Center in Tahlequah, Oklahoma
The people who owned the house where I lived as a baby and without hesitation ushered me in for a tour
The guest at the hotel in Roswell who chatted with me as I ate breakfast in the restaurant
The overwhelming number of people in Las Cruces who were pleasant to me
The folks at Organ Mountains Desert Peaks National Monument, who went out of their way to talk to me about sites in the area and my journey
The front desk clerk in Silver City, New Mexico, who upgraded my room
The kind couple and their dog who greeted me and chatted at length on the streets of Silver City, trying to recruit me as a resident
The ice cream scooper in Austin who inexplicably charged me less than full price, and wanted to chat all about where I was from, how my day was going, and my trip
Sheryl and Doug, Hoosiers turned Austinites, who welcomed me into their home for a lovely home cooked meal, and later treated me to a fantastic vegetarian restaurant
The kind staff and adventurers at Big Bend National Park
And, last but not least, the great guys at Discount Tire Store and Jiffy Lube

If I missed you, I promise you are still in my heart! Cheers!

And I'm Off!

October 24, 2016 Teressa Jackson

I've hit the road!

Anxious about a really long first day's drive, I headed out a day earlier than planned on Saturday, October 22. After grabbing my last Quills latte for a while, I headed out I-64 west, past Evansville, through Illinois and St. Louis, and eventually ended my day in Hollister, Missouri, just south of Branson. I didn't do much in Branson other than drive through the town, and the next day I was eager to get moving again.

Sunday, I visited Dogwood Canyon Nature Park. The park was founded by the owner of Bass Pro Shops. It was a little too commercialized at the entrance, but once I hit the trail through the Ozarks, it was really lovely. It is definitely more manicured than your average hiking spot, including a hiking trail that is paved in its entirety. I thought this was a nice feature, especially for anyone who might be in a wheelchair. It's so rare to see nature be truly accessible. There were plenty of waterfalls and big, beautiful fish. I walked the entire trail, altogether somewhere over 7 miles in total. The fall weather was fantastic and it felt great to stretch my legs.

From Dogwood Canyon, I drove through the Ozarks to Eureka Springs, Arkansas. This little town is filled with shops, restaurants, and incredibly friendly people. I spent a little time yesterday walking the historic town, and all day there today. Although I love all the little galleries, gift shops, and boutiques, it is a little strange to browse them now that I have essentially no belongings and am not set up to acquire any. So, I mostly enjoyed the scenery. I also splurged on a big brunch at Mud Street Cafe (I've been mostly eating peanut butter, crackers, and apples), checked out the 1886 Crescent Hotel and Spa, a true historic gem with a phenomenal view of the mountains, and visited Thorncrown Chapel, a chapel acclaimed for its architecture located just outside town in the woods.

As I already mentioned, the people in Eureka Springs are very friendly. Southern charm is in full effect here, and of course, they are reliant essentially 100% reliant on tourism so it is to their benefit to be pleasant. One of my highlights for today was meeting a man named Reck who was working at the Eureka Springs Historical Museum. Reck asked what I was doing in town, and I told him that I had sold all my belongings and was traveling the country for a year or so. He was very intrigued with this and we talked about Eureka Springs, other parts of the country to visit, and also about the value of being nice. He gave me a hug before I left with a big smile on my face.

A few minutes later, I was making my way up the street (literally UP... my Fitbit tells me I climbed 52 floors today) and a car pulls up. Reck pops out and says he just ended his shift, and wondered if I wouldn't take his cell phone number and send him a photo from my travels occasionally. I said I would be happy to do so, and snapped his photo so I'd remember the first new friend I made on my journey. It only took three days! :-)

Tomorrow, I am headed off to Hot Springs, Arkansas... a little sad to leave Eureka Springs so soon, but I'm sure I'll come back again someday.

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"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted." ~Aesop