Yesterday Ikuko and I were
traveling through Salt Lake City to Las Vegas. The view through the terminal
windows of the mountains surrounding Salt Lake City was startlingly vivid. The
recent snows have whitened the mountains and foothills right down to the valley
floor. It reminds me that travel
typically is a broadening experience.
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| Sunrise from a SEATAC terminal window |
When I was a young shaver,
knee high to a grasshopper, as grandpa used to say, I was captive to my
parents' (mostly father's) decisions to move around the northwest. We moved
from Orcas Island to the Seattle area, back to Orcas, to Coeur d’Alene, to Portland,
back to Orcas and then to Bellingham; sometimes living in various parts of
those areas. During those travels I managed to attend nine different elementary
schools.
Those moves were
sometimes, no, usually, painful for a youngster. Adjusting to new geography and
new people while all the time adjusting to a growing body and psyche could be,
and usually was, painful. Even though stressful and sometimes even painful, I
think those moves laid the groundwork for a life of more enjoyable travel.
As an adult I enjoyed
traveling in the Army for 22 years seeing new places and new people. Well, most
of that travel was enjoyable. Even during the year I spent in Vietnam I managed
to travel to Japan, Okinawa and The Philippines on business. From the south of
my own country (definitely a new people) to the Orient, (as it was then known)
to South and Central America I, and for most of that time my family, saw new
places.
In Japan I went to hot
springs and snow festivals and traditional Japanese Inns. Climbed Mt Fuji,
traveled by bus and bike and train in a foreign country not knowing the
language, depending on sign language and good-natured people for help navigating
to destinations most people only dream of.
In Hawaii I body surfed
at wailea and stole the occasional pineapple from the fields bordering our radio
research station at Helemano. In those days (1964) the Island of Oahu was
covered with pineapple and sugar cane fields.
While serving as an adviser to the South Carolina National Guard (1967-68) I saw the remnants of segregation including "white" and "colored" water fountains
and restrooms. I was there during the shootings and riots at Orangeburg. We
walked under the moss-covered oaks of old Charleston before it was cool to
visit there and we risked traveling through the rural areas even though Ikuko
and I were in violation of the miscegenation laws as partners in an interracial
marriage.
While stationed in San
Antonio we visited the Alamo, walked the River Walk before it was paved and
visited Old Laredo before it was dangerous. We also gave our oldest son the
honor of being a Texan by birth.
Panama was a boon to my
wanderlust. Being on the Southern Command inspection team I visited most of the
countries in South and Central America on official business. But business didn't stop us from
visiting the local attractions in our off time. From Cuzco and Machu Pichu in
Peru to ancient ruins in Guatemala and Honduras to Copacabana and Sugar Loaf in
Rio to the white sands of Barbados we did our best to combine business with pleasure.
Uncle Sam got us there
and back. It sometimes wasn't so comfortable sitting in web sling seats but the
price was right. Itaipu dam (largest power output in the world at the time)
under construction in Brazil, Stroessner's Paraguay, Rio de la Plata and Iguazu
Falls in Argentina, leather manufacturing plants in Uruguay, vineyards in Chile
and seeing the elusive quetzal in the mountain rain forests of Guatemala all
contributed to the wealth of good travel memories.
In Panama itself I fished
for Peacock Bass in Lake Gatun, portaged canoes over the continental divide and
paddled down the Rio Indio. Camped near David in the northern highlands and drove down
the unpaved road to the Darien in the southern lowlands. Caught butterflies in the
jungle and toasted cashew nuts over an open fire while drinking an astringent
fruit punch made from the cashew fruit.
Wow! I see this entry has
grown quickly. Too much of one thing can be boring and I don’t want to bore
you. I think I need to break down travels into sections and post them as the
mood strikes.
Meanwhile, our trip to
Las Vegas was sidelined by the weather in the northeast. You might wonder how
weather up there could affect our travels in Salt Lake City but it did. Friday
is a busy day in any case for air travel and yesterday, United and American
were busy buying up all the spare seats on Delta (where we were traveling
standby) to accommodate their own cancelled flights in the northeast and
rerouting those passengers through different hubs to get them on their way.
Ikuko and I waited
through two much overbooked flights to Las Vegas and finally gave up and decided
to return to Seattle instead of taking a chance on getting through to LV. I
think I can repeat in my sleep that worrisome announcement for standby
travelers: “This flight is overbooked and we are looking for volunteers to give
up their seats in return for $500 Delta Dollars and rebooking on a later flight.”
After waiting through
five Seattle bound overbooked flights we finally got on one at 2155 and made it
home by midnight. Of course our one checked bag went on the Las Vegas but the
nice folks at Delta arranged for it to come back to Seattle and I went back out
to SEATAC today to retrieve it.
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| Sunset from a Salt Lake City Airport Window |
When you think about it, the
uncertainty of outcome sometimes increases the pleasure of travel. When some
people set off they have an ironclad route, time checks along the way and plans
for each day. If things go south their whole trip is ruined.
Not me. I've found that I travel
best when I’m more flexible. I never know when a new adventure will emerge from the ruins of the old. Maybe that’s a result of my childhood when I was
never really sure where we would be moving on the morrow.
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