Category Archives: Personal goals

Eastbound and Back, Day 31: Cave of Wonders

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, children, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 29, 2024, Dickson, TN- The little girl saw an elephant, a red horse, octopus suction cups, a jellyfish, as our party of six visitors and two guides walked along the cavern path. We all saw the ghost of George Washington, a Persian palace, various wooden ships, Lover’s Lane, Dante’s Inferno and a grand ballroom, within the confines of the southern sector of Grand Caverns.

This is the vacation part of my journey. In between family visits and days of service, I am in the Southland, taking in natural wonders of this incredible cavern system and, in the days to come, a few historic sites. The guides, Lily and Malachi, are fonts of knowledge about this system, only half of which is open to general tours, with another 1/3 available for an “Adventure Tour” package-which I would consider on a different visit, if a certain someone is interested in coming along. Time will tell.

The day started nicely, with a light breakfast at Broad Porch Coffee House, the latest successor to beloved and sorely-missed Artful Dodger. The counter staff have the same bright energy and sweet disposition that Jasmin (not her real name) had, ten years ago. Maybe it’s the feng shui of the place.

Leaving Harrisonburg, I noted a sign for the little town of Grottoes, which intrigued me enough to turn off and head east on the small Virginia highway. Grottoes have fascinated me since the days when one was able to visit the three waterfalls of Jeju, Korea. (Those waterfalls have since been expropriated by a Chinese businessman, who uses their water for his own ends.) The name of the Virginia town is drawn from Grand Caverns, discovered serendipitously by a curious teenager, in 1804. The caves became a tourist attraction, shortly thereafter, and remain so to this day, the oldest show caves in the United States.

Lily explained, without editorial comment, that both Stonewall Jackson and Union officer Dixon Miles had brought their men into the caverns, at various times. No battle was fought in the caves, though there was a skirmish on Cave Hill, above the labyrinthine system. (Dixon Miles is remembered for planning to surrender Harpers Ferry, but died before he could do so. Stonewall Jackson, of course, ended up being shot and killed by one of his own men, in what was officially called “a case of mistaken identity”.)

Here are some scenes of the caverns. For perspective, the guides explained, note that stalactites (ceiling-based) and stalagmites (floor-based) grow at a rate of 3 cubic inches a year. The collective term for these formations, and for any other cave formation, is speleothem. That includes all the animals that the girl saw, and the ghost of George.

The Elephant
The Hitching Post

After this incredible seventy-minutes, I thanked the guides profusely, then headed over to a food truck, parked on the south side of Grottoes’ town center. El Carreton offers fabulous north Mexican fare, from the unassuming vehicle. Enjoying half of the burrito especial, I savoured equally the serene emptiness of a town, whose residents were mostly at work elsewhere.

The Ghost of George Washington
Reflecting Pool
End of the Line

Down through the Spine of Virginia, and across Tennessee, I did not stop at my customary refuge. It was not a good time for a visit. So, positioning myself for tomorrow’s long-delayed exploration of Shiloh, I stopped for the night at this western anchor of I-840, the southern Nashville by-pass. Music City has much to draw me in, but this time is intended for other pursuits.

Eastbound and Back, Day 27: No Fire This Time

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Entertainment, Family, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 25, 2024, Bethlehem, PA- I was drifting off to another blissful sleep, and the unmistakable sound, from years of running drills at various schools, got me out of bed and out of the building, in a flash. There I was, pajama-clad, and in sockless shoes, with a slowly-accumulating gathering of fellow guests, and the few staff who didn’t need to be in the office. “It’s just like school, huh?”, I remarked to an excited little girl, as her father grimaced and shook his head. The whole episode lasted twenty-five minutes, the police officer gave the all-clear and we headed back inside, as the seven firefighters continued their inspection of the wiring and checking for signs of (illegal) indoor smoking, or untended cooking. (This is an extended stay establishment, and there are two flat stove burners, in each room, as well as a microwave oven-which could lead to burnt popcorn.) The Cuban maintenance director, sounding like Desi Arnaz on steroids, promised he’d find out if anyone was responsible for the mayhem. All I know is, it wasn’t me-and probably wasn’t the guy standing next to me, who looked as if he were a clean-shaven Rip Van Winkle.

My last night in New England, for this trip, anyway, came to an end with a small purchase of a coffee and empanada, from 7-11, and a farewell to Nitey-Nite Motel’s owner, who barely looked up from his game of Solitaire, as I dropped off the key card. That’s okay; he offers clean, quiet rooms at a decent price. Hartford and Waterbury were a breeze to get past. Danbury was still Danbury-the same jockeying for position, at the split between U.S. 7 and I-84, leading some of us to wait 2-3 seconds in the inner lane of 7, before a quick break let us onto the 84.

It’s been a while since I stopped at Arlene and Tom’s Family Diner, Port Jervis. The same “Home of the Free, because of the Brave” sign is there, and the TV is still set to Newsmax. The pastrami is still among the best in the Catskill region, though, so that’s what matters most. Besides, it is always good to know what both sides are thinking, in this cosmic stew that is America, and the world, in 2024.

This visit to New England, and to the northeast Atlantic region beyond, reassured me of everyone’s love. Seeing cousins from both sides of the family, being able to repay Mom for all the nurturing she has given, over seven decades, being with my three siblings in a delightful dining room, visiting the graves of my father and baby brother, visiting a boyhood friend and connecting with Baha’is in Cape Breton Island, Corner Brook (NL) and Green Acre Baha’i School have made the month an exemplary one. Starting May off with a visit to the House of Worship certainly helped, in terms of spiritual energy. There was more interest in the Faith, from family and friends, this time around. Mom even read some prayers from my book. I was sent forward with top-notch pizza in Mishawaka, and, despite the jibes from someone I love very much, managed to keep in the good graces of hoteliers from Gallup to South Windsor. Time on the French-ruled island of St. Pierre was the icing on this very rich cake.

Now I am in Pennsylvania, with this hotel, an Air BnB and a private guest room as places of rest, during this second round of family visits. This evening was another special event-well before the fire drill. I visited these fine people, enjoyed fabulous Persian rice, salad and soup, with copious amounts of jicama and watermelon for dessert. I was also edified by the various “Got Talent” clips of performances by American and British senior citizens-most of whom were extraordinarily talented.

I also was briefly introduced to Tatamy Village’s community park.

Tatamy Park

Now, I lay me down to sleep, again.

Eastbound and Back, Day 25: Repaying and Revising

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Posted by on in Community, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 23, 2024, Gloucester, MA- The e-mail was unexpected, but somehow is fortuitous. My flight from Manila to Nairobi, scheduled for September 23, has been canceled by the airline. Africa will thus be re-scheduled, for autumn of 2025, as an extension of a European visit. This will remain a year for focus on east Asia, the Philippines in particular, with South Korea and Japan towards the end of the journey. My connection with the Philippines is both faith-based and personal, and we’ll leave it at that.

Africa is no less a concern of mine, but one must be prudent-and if the airlines say it is a security risk to fly, at that time, then that is how it must be.

The major concern of the day, today, was checking in on Mom. She was quiet, but was very glad to see me. It is enough for me to just sit, hold her hand and tell her about what I have been doing of late. She smiles and lets me know that my travels meet with her approval. I am just glad to have her here to relate my experiences.

When we were growing, her rule was to clean our plates. This evening was only the second time I have joined her for a meal at the residence. She was delighted that I cleaned my plate-but that has been second nature for me, for the past seventy years, no matter where I have eaten. Suffice it to say, she followed her own advice tonight, to the extent reasonable.

As today marks the 181st anniversary of the Declaration by al-Bab, of His Mission to mankind, I stopped and prayed at Green Acre Baha’i School. It was closed, as is customary on Baha’i Holy Days, but the grounds were still open. Here is a photo of Sarah Farmer Inn, the central building of Green Acre. ‘Abdu’l-Baha stayed there, in 1912, so it is a place of extra significance to Baha’is.

Eastbound and Back, Day 8: The Coast Cleared

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, Historical, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 6, 2024, Calais, ME- At the roundabout, turning off towards Boothbay Harbor, I found myself waiting for a street sweeper in what was little more than a Bobcat, heading across the first exit and headed southbound, which I was also doing. Fortunately, he next turned right, towards the Post Office, and I was on track to be punctual.

I got to the rendezvous point that I thought was right-Dunkin’Donuts, on the south end of Wells. Turns out, there is another Dunkin’, more in the center of town. The still-recognizable figure from my childhood got my text and came to where I was, three minutes later.


The clouds that had hung on earlier started clearing, as we bantered for the next ninety minutes, giving a good many caffeinating residents of Wells and environs a bit more about growing up in Saugus, in the ’50s and ’60s than they may have ever anticipated. A Frenchman and an Italian get going on stuff from the past, and who knows what will be divulged. I may stop on the way back, and catch his piano magic.

Catharsis just happens, though both of us did our best to not give TMI. It was time to move on, around 11, which gave me just enough time to go up the coast towards Boothbay Harbor, where a cousin and his wife were waiting for our annual, or biennial, meeting. Stopping at Wilbur’s of Maine, for gift items, took five minutes and the minor wait for the street sweeper took another five. I was at their house at exactly 11 a.m. Why that is suddenly so important, as I write this, is a mystery. Maybe I am just compensating for some time in the distant past, when I let people down, due to dawdling. At any rate, it didn’t matter at all to my hosts. Our conversation, over lunch, was centered on our Irish paternal great-grandmother’s proactivity, in purchasing what would become the Boivin family home, for over 100 years. So many gatherings took place, in the three storeys of that house, in the backyard, up the street at another aunt & uncle’s house and two blocks north, at another uncle & aunt’s house. Then, there were the pool tournaments, at Frank’s Bar & Grill, across the main street from Perley.

I left the cousins behind, with a promise to return, later this month. The sky was alternately foggy (inland) and clear (along the coast). I found relatively scant traffic, which was not surprising as it’s still fairly early in May. Many cabins and seasonal restaurants are still closed, awaiting Memorial Day. It also being a Monday, several others were taking their weekly day off. Joe’s Diner, just shy of the Canadian border, was open, for a modest plate of spaghetti, and a generous helping of meatballs. International Motel, a riverside establishment, has provided me with another comfortable place for a fine night’s rest.

Tomorrow will see a return visit to the Gallant family’s North American entry point: Shediac, NB. It was there that my paternal grandmother’s father’s forebears brought their roofing skills to bear among the Basque and Breton fisherfolk of 17th Century New Brunswick.

The Road to (Mayer’s) Grapevine

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

April 26, 2024- Tooling along the gravel-coated roads in Grapevine Canyon, about 45 minutes southeast of Prescott, Hiking Buddy and I found several large, fairly new houses and an old mining camp or two.

The actual goal of our quest-Grapevine Trail, was a bit east of the residential areas, so we backtracked and drove along a short, graded dirt road, just to the left of the graveled jobs. The walk today was, essentially, a scouting mission-first a .7-mile hike from the parking area to a green livestock gate, then about .5 of the .7 further mile to the actual trailhead that leads into the inner canyon. There will be time in June, maybe, or late October (as things stand now), for a further foray into the Grapevine of Mayer.

Here are some scenes that my i-Phone afforded me, after I headed out the door without my trusty Samsung digital.

The v-shaped ridges form a splendid backdrop to the jagged shale outcropping, that seem to have been dropped, willy-nilly, by the glaciers of the Mesolithic Period (26,000 years ago).

Once past the cattle gate, the rim of the inner canyon itself came into clearer focus.

Grapevine Creek will fill this bed, once the monsoons arrive, in July-September.

The sometimes jagged road would not be kind to Sportage, parked a mile or so back. It does make an agreeable hiking trail, in and of itself.

As we walked back to the car, this small group of outcroppings appealed to me, as a possible spur hike in a future visit.

The morning put yet another area of Unlimited Arizona on my radar screen. After nearly 44 years here, off and on, the Southwest never ceases to amaze.

Nonstop Talking

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

April 24, 2024- I asked myself, how long would I last, as a nonstop talker, before someone broke out the duct tape-or everyone just up and left, even if-especially if- I was in the middle of my 286th sentence.

Then I began to think about how I am, myself, towards nonstop talkers. If they are children in a class, I appeal to the their recognition “that there is an agenda, set by the regular teacher, who has to honour the hierarchy from the State Legislature to the State Superintendent to the County Superintendent to the District Governing Board to the District Superintendent-to…” until a bright shining face offers….”Now who’s the nonstop talker?”

If the nonstop talker is a shut-in, chances are the monologues will be looped, and I will be able to repeat them, verbatim, after about a month of visits. I will still visit, though, and still listen, because this could be me one day. Besides, when every day sounds the same, it’s partly because every day is the same.

If the motormouth has encyclopedic knowledge of ten different subjects, I will want to be seen and not heard, because there are significant gaps in anyone’s knowledge, and we need to check-in with each other, and the nonstop thinker who can put thoughts into words deserves a full platform.

These thoughts came to mind, this evening, as I witnessed nonstop talkers, talking over one another. Thankfully, they each came to a happy medium and let each other have the dais, for a few minutes at a time. I would not do well, as a nonstop talker.

Headwaters

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Personal goals, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 21, 2024, Paulden, AZ- I drove about 5.3 miles past the Upper Verde Nature Preserve, rose quartz heart securely in a caddy, in the middle of the front seats. About 1/2 mile from Verde Ranch, I pulled over, as the sign said “GATE, No turnaround” Out here, “No” means “Don’t push the matter”. I wouldn’t have done that, anyway. I was raised to respect private property. Walking down to the spot where the barbed wire fence began, I backtracked to a spot where I could walk down an embankment, to an overlook. There, I scoped out the wash below, and seeing that it was dry, I thought ahead to the monsoons.

Where to bury the rose quartz heart? Its purpose is to bring a blessing from the Divine, upon a given area. The headwaters of the Upper Verde River are an area crucial for the populace of the Prescott area. We need guidance, as to proper conservation and sensible development. There are threats to both, most notably a proposed mine expansion, south of town.

Rose quartz hearts are among the symbols of positive energy, along with quartz crystals and precious gems. They may be buried or placed in a spot where they can reflect the sun’s rays. Either way, they are a source of healing energy, for the area in which they are placed. The Headwaters of the Upper Verde were the first area I chose, for placement of the small crystal.

View southwest, from Headwaters of Upper Verde area, looking towards St. Matthew’s Mountain.
A dry wash, in the Upper Verde watershed. I chose a space in front of the chaparral to the right, as the rose quartz heart’s resting place.
A rose quartz heart, now placed near the Headwaters of the Upper Verde River.

The two sandstone bricks mark the spot where the rose quartz heart is laid. (Hat and sunglasses stayed with me.)

With that, I said a short prayer and offered positive thoughts for the health of the watershed. The upcoming cross-continental journey will provide five other opportunities to lay a rose quartz heart, at various places in both this country and Canada. Quartz, to me is a good way to reflect positive energy.

Gordian Knots

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 18,2024- A bit ago, a boy in an intermediate school was placed in detention, for hitting a girl classmate. He told the principal that he felt demeaned by the girl and her friends, so he did the only thing he knew-he lashed out.

Anxiety fuels fear, which fuels aggression, which fuels more anxiety and aggression-all tied up in a Gordian knot. The legend of Alexander the Great has the king using the expedient solution of cutting a complex knot with a sword, rather than trying to loosen and unravel it. Modern times find certain rulers using brute force, in an attempt to bring an end to “intractable” problems. Thus, a series of events that would be amusingly schoolboyish, were they not so chilling, are unfolding between two countries-in the guise of preservation of faith.

Thomas Sowell’s admonition that there are no solutions, only trade-offs, has never rung more true than in the matter of the conflict in western Asia. The resolution of this matter involves, essentially, two basic processes: 1. All people living within the borders of a nation-state need to have a full voice in the affairs of that nation-state, provided they are willing to abide by the laws of that nation-state; 2. Countries that neighbour one another need to fully honour the legitimate rights of all people in their neighbouring states, to say nothing of honouring the legitimate rights of their own citizens. The trade-offs will need to be worked out, but they cannot allow dominance of any one country, or national ideology, or authoritarian ruler, over its neighbours.

I’m keeping an eye on the situation in western Asia, at least for the effect it will have on my plans for Autumn, which presently involve transit stops in two airports in that region. Those places need to show a modicum of safety, in order for anyone to make even the briefest of stops. There is also the impact the conflict will have (is at least temporarily having) on global finance. The possibility exists that I may be working for wages in October, instead of visiting Baha’is in east Africa, after my September visit to the Philippines.

Fear triggers anxiety, which brings on aggression, triggering more fear and anxiety. I face all this, knowing that in either Plan A or Plan B, I will be okay on a personal level. Many communities and countries will get through the matter, just fine. There will, however, be vast areas, and millions of people, who won’t be at all fine-with the situations in Gaza, Darfur and Ukraine just the beginning, unless the Gordian Knots are untied, rather than cut.

Mislaid Plans

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

April 15, 2024- The rock that lined the unpaved road was navigated very slowly, as I drove along, looking for a place called Jeronimo’s Cabin. It was not that of the great Apache warrior, but belonged to one Jeronimo Pena, a lumberjack who lived alone on Mingus Mountain, from the 1920s until his death, in 1957. He transported his cords of wood using his burros, having cut the wood using a crosscut saw-strictly low tech and living a simple life, preferring to forage for his food, and that of the burros.

It happened that I turned left, about ten yards too soon, following a track that was just shy of the parking area, from which I could have walked the trail that leads to the cabin. I left the hike for another time, until I could more completely research the matter (which I did tonight, upon returning home.) The rub came, when I found that a piece of shale had become embedded in the front right tire. When I managed to get the resulting flat to a shop, the puncture turned out to be irreparable. Shale can be a very tough adversary, even when one takes a road with slow diligence.

Jerome, with Haunted Hamburger and Flatiron Coffee House, was a silver lining to all this. I was also able to get a good deal on the two back tires, which needed replacing, prior to my upcoming cross-country journey. There is always a future pay-off for a short term setback, if one pays attention. I will find Jeronimo’s Cabin, sometime in June, or in late Fall, before it snows. Not having to go on the shale-flecked road again, will be a bonus.

Happy Places

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 6, 2024- As I drove into the parking lot of Mayer Fire Department’s central station, a day-glo sign on a house above the road proclaimed “This is My Happy Place”. A similar notice, “Welcome to Our Happy Place”, greets visitors to the Wildflower Bakery, on the edge of Prescott’s Pine Ridge Marketplace. This led me to once more reflect on my own happy places.

The list starts with Home Base I, the cozy one-bedroom apartment where I’ve lived for the past ten years, and by extension includes Prescott as a whole. Within its confines, the city offers other happy places: Raven Cafe, Peregrine Book Store, Yavapai College’s Sculpture Garden, Wild Iris Coffee House, County Seat Restaurant, Prescott College,Lazy G Brewhouse (I stick to their Non-alcoholic IPA), Lifeways Book Store, any one of four Mom and Pop pizzerias, which I visit sparingly, these days and any one of several Baha’i and other friends’ homes. In the periphery are Zeke’s Eatin’ Place, Highlands Nature Center, Thumb Butte, Watson Lake and the Granite Dells, Willow and Goldwater Lakes, Dharma Farm and Granite Mountain.

Once outside HB I, there are the Happy Places on the road-and over the ocean: Samesun Hostel and Ocean Beach; Copper Sands Motel and Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument; Macy’s European Coffee House and Bakery-and the San Francisco Peaks; Brewed Awakenings Coffee House and Grand Canyon’s South Rim; Jacob Lake Inn (coming back in June, my friends) and the North Rim; every last one of the First Nations Pueblos; any number of Orange County beach towns; Santa Fe, with The Pantry and Henry & The Fish; Taos; Cuba (NM) and Ghost Ranch; Manitou Springs; Monument Valley; Tucson’s Old Town; High Desert Bakery and Coronado National Monument.

There are the Baha’i House of Worship and Wilmette Village’s center; Mishawaka and the Crisenberry Family Farm, in nearby Goshen; all of Massachusetts’ North Shore-and downtown Boston; Boothbay Harbor, Green Acre Baha’i School- and the entire coast of Maine; Cape Breton Island; Newfoundland; Vancouver Island; Amarillo, with the Fun Zone and Palo Duro Canyon; Gram’s Place-and all of Tampa Bay; Tonopah and Beans & Brew; Carson City and the Tahoe Region; Portlandia; the Olympic Peninsula; Crossville and the Cumberland Plateau; Aiken and Full Moon Coffee House; Osceola Tiger and Big Cypress; Philly’s Old City, and the Museum of Art in Wood; the ‘burbs west of Philadelphia and Glick’s Greenhouse.

There are Vannes and Daily Gourmand, in Bretagne; Makati, and Manila’s Rizal Park; Daet’s Bagasbas Beach; Luxembourg’s Old City; Frankfurt-am-Main’s Dom; anywhere on Jeju-do; Busan’s Gold King Coffee House.

Happiness, though, is in the mind and heart. The people in the above-mentioned places are what make each of them special. A few would call themselves acquaintances, most would count me as a friend and one has my heart, as no other person save my late wife, Penny, had it. Each of them, and their surroundings, bring me solace. Their list will, no doubt, grow.

Each substitute teaching job that did at least one child or teen some good, each volunteer shift that produced some good, each errand of mercy to needful friends accomplished, each hike done safely and each trip that was not a waste of time is also a happy place.

I salute everyone who offers their home or business in like manner.