The Silent "I"

Carnival of Cities Blog Carnival: November 4, 2009 Edition

We have great group of travel bloggers providing their expert tips and advice on traveling in this week's Carnival of Cities! Join our intrepid travelers as they scour the globe for interesting, fun, and just plain cool places to go and things to see.  I'll be your tour guide this week.

USA

Starting out on the East Coast, for all you baseball fans, Christian Carollo presents Back to Back: Philadelphia Phillies posted at Christian Carollo Photography. Christian documents last year's World Series winners and hopes for a repeat performance.  Will they or won't they? Yankee fans might beg to diffah (as we used to say when I lived in the Bronx), but the Phillies fans in Christian's photos look like they are ready to bring it home again.

Moving down to Maryland, Jennifer takes us down on the farm with Homestead Farm – Poolesville, MD – You Capture Autumn posted at Two Kids and a Map. You can feel the fall nip in the air with her photos of a lovely pumpkin patch and cute kids.

Traveling on south to Florida, Amy at The Q Family takes us on a tour of one of her family's favorite destinations with Disney's Animal Kingdom: The Condense Version posted at The Q Family Adventures Travel Blog. Amy also has some great tips for families traveling to Disney parks at the end of her post that you won't want to miss.

Moving on to the midwest, and my former home in Chicago, Illinois, Dominique King takes us Inside the Chicago Cultural Center at Midwest Guest. I never got to see this when I lived in Chicago in the 1980's, and it's definitely a must-see next time I visit.

Jack Norell reminded me of one of my favorite Chicago haunts in his post, Lincoln Park Zoo, Chicago over at Eyeflare Travel Articles and Tips. He has a gorgeous shot of kids meeting a polar bear that you just have to see to believe.  I'd love to take my son there.

California Missions: The Fourth Grader's State-cation

MomCentral is currently running a blog campaign on behalf of Holiday Inn to encourage people to get out and explore their own states-- a "state-cation," if you will.  I'm not a native Californian, so this idea intrigued me, since there is a great deal about the state I live in that I don't know.  I think I've hit a few of the high points so far (Disneyland, Hollywood, San Diego, Mono Lake, Yosemite, Napa Valley), but there's a great deal more to the state to be explored.

My son is in fourth grade this year, which as everyone who ever attended California public schools knows, is the Year of the Mission. Fourth graders across and up and down the state study California history. Many kids have to complete the dreaded mission project, which usually consists of making a model of one of the California missions from paper mache, matchsticks, salt dough or some other homespun material and drag it into school. 

I grew up in Ohio, where we made salt maps of Indian burial mounds, so I missed out on the missions.  One of my co-workers who grew up in California told me that it never occurred to her that anyone wouldn't study the missions, since it was a rite of passage for California school children.  She was shocked that I'd missed out on this rich cultural experience and instead had to study the eight inconsequential (with a few ignominious) Presidents hailing from Ohio, the two Harrisons (Benjamin and William Henry), Grant, Hayes, Garfield, McKinley, Taft, and Harding.

Thankfully, Alex's teacher isn't requiring the standard 3-D replica of Mission San Jose, but instead is leaving it up to the kids to come up with a project on the missions, whether it's a video, book, report, or scale model.  Maybe a blog would do.  Or a Facebook fan page. Or a series of tweets. It's a brave new world in education these days.

Since we're a family who pretty much uses any excuse to hit the road, this seems like a perfect opportunity to take a state-cation, starting with the most northernmost mission, the Mission San Francisco Solano in downtown Sonoma, all the way down to the Mission San Diego.  There are 21 missions in all, and each was supposed to be one days' ride on horseback from the next.

We're considering doing a Mission Tour (not on horseback, thankfully) this year, maybe for spring break, doing a day-trip to the local missions and then heading south to San Juan Bautista, San Juan Capistrano, and onward, until we just can't take any more.

If we do this Mission Impossible Tour, I'm sure there will be a Holiday Inn or two along the way, since they often have free wifi and swimming pools, two requirements for any hotel or motel we stay in, wherever we roam.  The wifi would be essential to logging in our progress via the blog, and the pool would be needed to knock the dust of history off of us at the end of each day.  We had good experiences last year on our National Park Tour with Holiday Inn Express, which were uniformly clean, comfortable, and affordable. 

Disclosure: I wrote this review while participating in a blog campaign by Mom Central on behalf of Holiday Inn. Mom Central sent me a gift card to thank me for taking the time to participate.

Photo: San Juan Bautista, taken by me in 1998.

Napa Valley for Kids: What to Do (and Not Do)

The Napa Valley Wine Country isn't really known for kid-friendly venues, since the emphasis there is primarily on adult beverages. Nonetheless, for Labor Day weekend, we decided to do a day-trip to Napa Valley, which is about a two hour drive from our house.   Even though it's not that far from where we live, we rarely go up to the Wine Country unless we have visitors who want to see it, mainly because I didn't think there would be much appeal for our nine year old son.  We decided to spend Saturday up in the wine country, exploring fun activities for kids in Napa Valley.

Castello di Amorosa Winery

Several on-line guides recommended the Castello di Amorosa, a re-creation of the 12th century Tuscan castle on the hillside near Calistoga.  The guides said that this would be fun for kids, since there is a tour that includes a dungeon and castle turrets to run around on.  We made our way down the Silverado trail and pulled up in front of the castle, which from the outside, did not disappoint.  Alex exclaimed, "Where there battles here, Mom?"

I had to tell him that it was highly unlikely any battles were fought here, except maybe the Great Chardonnay Wars of '07, which resulted in casualties. Unfortunately, many grapes were crushed in the incursion.  He rolled his eyes, because he's smart like that and knows when I'm pulling his leg.

Two things the guides failed to mention: 1) On the weekends, it costs $15 per adult/$5 per child aged 5-20 to go into the castle, and the guided tour is $30 per adult/$20 per child; and 2) the wine is not good. Kids under 5 get in free, and the entrance fees are slightly less during the week.  The only way to see the dungeon is to pay for the full tour. I didn't think was worth $80 to see a fake dungeon, when we'd seen real ones in Scotland, plus the next available tour was four hours after we arrived.

We plunked down our $35 for the three of us, and proceeded to look at the Great Hall, which was a recreation of a medieval banquet hall.  The walls were painted from floor to ceiling in scenes that looked like they could have been on some 12th century tapestry or another, and large metal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.  There was nothing going on in the Great Hall, and it was a little dark and foreboding.  Alex peeked in, and promptly ran away. 

Asian Art Museum San Francisco: Samurai, Swords & Sculptures

This Labor Day Weekend, we decided to explore the San Francisco Bay Area a bit, starting with the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco, specifically to see the Lords of the Samurai exhibit on display there through September 20.

Long weekends are always a challenge for us: should we stay or should we go? This Labor Day weekend, we decided on a mini-staycation, opting to do things we could do in a day.  Each of the three of us got to pick a day to do something we wanted to do.  Frank chose going to San Francisco to see the samurai exhibit, so we loaded into the loaner Lincoln MKT, and off we went, up the peninsula toward the city.

We were a little reluctant to go up to the city this weekend, since we had heard that traffic was bad due to the closure of the Bay Bridge.  We didn't encounter any major problems, and even found parking on the street across from the museum.

Frank and I were members of the Asian Art Museum a years ago, but it was at a different location, in Golden Gate Park.  It's now housed in the former main library building, near City Hall. They moved to the current location near City Hall in 2003, with help from a bond measure and a $15 million gift from Silicon Valley entrepreneur Chong-Moon Lee.  

Great Northern Adventure: Angle Inlet, Minnesota

Back in November, 2002, before I had a blog or even knew what a blog was, Frank, Alex and I ventured north to Minnesota, North Dakota, and Canada.  This is the beginning of a series of stories from that trip, a little walk through the snow down memory lane.

❄ November 3-5, 2002 ❄

Frank, Alexander and I started our Great Northern Adventure by flying from San Jose, California, U.S.A. to Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada on Sunday, November 3, 2002.  Alex was 2 1/2, a talkative, bright toddler with a will of titanium.  Our journey took us from Winnipeg to such glamor spots as Angle Inlet, Minnesota; Pembina, North Dakota; and Steinbach, Manitoba, all the way north to our final destination in Churchill, Manitoba to witness the annual polar bear migration.  We could have dubbed this the “Bears or Bust Tour.” 

Our trip started out auspiciously enough.  The California weather was cool and clear, and perfect for flying.  At the San Jose Airport, Alexander got to burn off a little of his excess toddler-energy at the play scape in Terminal C, then we boarded a United flight to Denver.  We changed planes in Denver to a small regional jet, where Alexander tortured the man in front of him for two solid hours by alternately screeching maniacally and kicking his seat. We arrived in Winnipeg later that night. 

We spent the first night in the 4 Points Hotel, a comfortable and convenient place that was literally across the street from the airport.  The next morning, Frank picked up a rented Volvo station wagon, and we were off.  Our first mission was to find some extra snow gear before heading to the wilds of Canada and the Northern United States.  The friendly hotel staff directed us to a nearby mall, but recommended the local Wal-Mart as the place to shop for snow gear.  We found the mall, and promptly bought snow boots for Alexander at Sears.  We didn’t find much for ourselves, and everyone we asked recommended that we go to—you guessed it—Wal-Mart.  After the fifth person recommended Wal-Mart, I gritted my teeth to overcome my deep-seated anti-Wal-Mart bias (I am a loyal Target shopper), and reluctantly agreed to go there.

Wal-Mart was all the locals said it would be and more, and did not disappoint. Evidently, not all Wal-Marts are created equal. This one was spacious, clean, with clearly marked aisles.  The one we have near our home has the perpetual look of a store that has just been looted, so this was surprising to me. After arming ourselves with cheaper-than-cheap boots, scarves, film, and miscellaneous other winter-vacation related items, we headed blindly into the snow country.

Not Your Daddy's Pittsburgh

Last week, I spent four days with 1500 other progressive bloggers at the Netroots Nation Conference in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. At first, I was a little perplexed by why they chose Pittsburgh of all places to hold the convention, but after a day there, I realized that any preconceived notion I might have had about the place flew out the window.  Pittsburgh, in many ways, seems to be a city reborn, and not at all what I was expecting.

The image I had of Pittsburgh was that of the quintessential midwestern city, fully of smokestacks rising up over a flat, gray landscape and a gritty urban environment.  What I found was clean air, friendly people, and a thriving downtown cultural scene.  I could see why the Netroots organizers chose it, for its affordability, centrality, and hospitality.

South Dakota: Burying My Heart at Wounded Knee

After our stop at Badlands National Park, we drove through the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation to Wounded Knee.  The Reservation sits in a vast plain, with few houses dotting the landscape.  We took a wrong turn down an unpaved road as we were looking for the Wounded Knee Memorial, and passed a lone trailer.  Outside, two Native American kids, a little older than Alex, were playing.  One of them looked up and flipped us off.

"Why did he do that, Mom?  He showed us his middle finger! That is sooo not nice!"  Alex was outraged by this gesture.

To be honest, I didn't know exactly why he did it, but we clearly didn't belong there.

We finally found the Wounded Knee Visitors Center and Memorial.  It was a round, dark building that looked like a giant chocolate cake.  Inside, it was dark and windowless.  Three women sat behind a desk, selling jewelry and mementos of Wounded Knee. The walls were decorated with photos and descriptions of what had happened there.  There was a sense of outrage about the place.  In big letters on the wall, someone had written:  "The Indian Wars Are Not Over."

The following words were written on the wall:

During the 1970's terror once again filled the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation.  The traditional LAKOTA People were being terrorized and murdered.  The corrupt Chairman and his Goons along with the F.B.I. carried out the reign of terror.  The Chiefs and Headsmen had meetings and called A.I.M. to come and assist.  On February 27, 1973 the siege began and the War was on for 71 days.  Two LAKOTAS were killed in action, Buddy Lamont and Frank Clearwater who gave the ultimate sacrifice.  LAKOTA War leader Pedro Bissonette was gunned down by the B.I.A. Police 6 months after the Takeover.  The American Indian Movement was instrumental in alot of the postive changes that affect us today.  indian Pride was revived and the resurgence of our Spirituality Began.

All of the writing on the walls was neatly hand-lettered, and there were photos and collages in frames all around.  This was clearly something that had been done by the people themselves, to commemorate the sad plight of the Lakota people, of their betrayal by the US government, and bloody battles and sacrifice made by them.

South Dakota: Mountains & Missiles

We checked out  of the Rushmore Express Inn on Wednesday, August 23, and had breakfast at the Executive Order Grill.  Keystone reminded me of Gatlinburg, Tennessee, a little mountain town full of tourist shops and restaurants, all centered around the main attraction:  Mount Rushmore.  Alex begged us to let him take the tramway up to the top of the mountain and use the giant slide down, but we passed on this idea.

Instead, we headed over to the Crazy Horse Memorial, about 15 miles from downtown Keystone.  This is a monument in progress, and one that I had only vaguely heard about.  It is a mountain carving of the Native American Lakota leader Crazy Horse, being blasted out of the side of one of the Black Hills.

The project was started in 1948 by a lone sculptor who was commissioned by a group of Native American chiefs.  For scale, all 4 of the Mt. Rushmore heads would fit inside the side of Crazy Horse's head.  In 60 years, they hae completed the face and the top of the arm.  The next portion of the project will be to carve the horse's head.  When finished, it will be the largest sculpture in the world.  There is a sculpture at the visitor's center of what it will eventually look like.

This is the kind of thing I hope Alex will take his children to, and show them the pictures of what it looks like today.  Progress has been slow, because the family who is doing the carving refuses any sort of government funding.  They rely solely on donations from the public and revenues from visitors.

South Dakota: Mount Rushmore

After our jaunt to Devil's Tower and Prairie Dog town, we made our way to South Dakota.  Mt. Rushmore is one of the sites I've wanted to see since I was a kid, from looking at encyclopedias and from the Alfred Hitchcock film "North by Northwest."  More recently, my interest was piqued by "National Treasure:  Book of Secrets," though I'm pretty sure that there is no city of gold buried beneath it.

We arrived in mid-afternoon in Keystone, South Dakota, which is sort of a cowboy-presidential themepark of a town.  We checked into Rushmore Express, a comfortable motel about two miles from Mt. Rushmore.  After a big meat extravaganza dinner at the Powder House Lodge, we made our way to the historic site.

On the road up to the entrance, you can see the giant presidential head carvings after you turn a certain bend.  It reminded me of seeing the Pyramids in Egypt looming over the horizon, like something incongruous and out of place in the surrounding woods.  The sun was starting to hang low in the horizon.  We parked the car in the multi-level parking structure and headed up to the visitors center.

The giant heats of the four presidents--Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, and Lincoln--loomed above the granite mini-mall of gift shops, visitor information centers, and restaurants.  You walk through two rows of stone pillars featuring the flags of the fifty states to get to the prime viewing platform.  Below that is a large amphitheatre with a stage at the base of the mountain.

We arrived just in time for the Evening Lighting Ceremony, which featured a young woman in a park ranger outfit named Summer leading the crowd in a game of presidential trivia.  Her long, wavy, strawberry blonde hair flowed out from under her Smokey the Bear hat, and she seemed sweet.  After the trivia game, she showed a file about the President's featured on Mt. Rushmore.  After that, she told the story of the writing of the "Star Spangled Banner", reciting the first three verses from memory, and then singing the familiar stanza in a high, operatic voice. I wasn't sure if I was at a national park or a Miss Teen Park Ranger pageant at this point.  She seemed sweet and earnest, and really seemed to enjoy her job as Ranger bunny.

Goodbye, Yellowstone; Hello, Montana

On Monday, August 18, we had to leave our cushy suite at the Old Faithful Inn in Yellowstone, to travel on to our next stop:  Little Big Horn in Montana.  We went out for one last view of Old Faithful and to find a kind soul to take our picture.  We met an older gentleman from Tennessee, who was very knowledgeable about the park, and said he'd been coming there since 1968.  Frank had met him on one of his early morning photo walks, and he gladly snapped our picture for us.

We drove out of the park after another hearty breakfast at the Old Faithful Inn dining room, and headed toward the Northeast exit/entrance at Roosevelt.  Our first stop on the way was Artists Point, a beautiful, scenic spot with a view of the yellow rocks and the falls in the distance. 

I could see why this was called "Artists Point" since this was just about as inspirational a scene as anything you would find on the planet.  We didn't see any painters around, but hundreds of tourists with all makes and models of cameras swarmed the area, looking for a good shot of the falls and the canyon.  I think between the two of us, Frank and I took about 10,000 pictures of this spot alone. 

The rock on either side of the falls had a yellowish hue, which changed colors in the sun.  According to Frank, this was why the park is named "Yellowstone" after the yellow stones near the falls.  The water coming off the falls and into the canyon was a gorgeous deep turquoise blue, almost as blue as the ocean in the Caribbean.  The rocks, the deep green pine trees, and the blue rushing water made for a a festival of color.

We left just as another bus load of elderly tourists pulled up and headed on out of the park.  I was sad to leave Yellowstone, despite being sick the entire time. 

We got to see one last herd of buffalo on our way out, and one that was pretty close to the road.  Luckily, buffalo are not the quickest creatures when they are undisturbed and grazing, so I got a fairly good shot of one of them by the roadside.