#57 - Drive to San Francisco... or Further North

I set an intention for this trip before I even started planning: savor the journey.  I had to remind myself a few times.  There are so many places along the coast I'd love to visit, to spend some time, to really explore.  But this trip wasn't about any of the destinations.  It was about the journey.

I could have started the Pacific Coast Highway here in San Diego, but I had to make it all the way to Grover Beach the first night, and I got started a little late...  intentionally.  I managed to fit in the first week of my new Sunday beach volleyball league with Vavi before heading north.  I was happy to meet my new team, and two hours in the sun in perfect San Diego beach weather was a lovely way to start my vacation.  

I drove up the 5 to the 73 (I think I'm a real Californian now) to drop by Newport Beach for a little happy hour with Amelia, Carlos, Grandma Gomez, and baby Alex.  I've known Amelia for 20+ years, and though we go many years sometimes without seeing each other, it's always comforting to see her.  I guess camp friends are just like that.  Last time I saw her, I was able to meet the man who would become her husband.  This time, I got to meet her son for the first time.  We were able to do a little catching up over happy hour snacks.  I hope to pop up to Newport again soon for a longer visit!

I then headed up the 405 to the 1 and managed to catch Santa Barbara just before sunset.  I was so excited to stop in this beautiful town and to take some pictures for my imagined instagram tag #weekofsunsets.  I then realized that the coast curves a bit there, and Santa Barbara mostly faces south.  So I couldn't really see the sunset.  I did have a great dinner and wrote about my short pit stop here because visiting Santa Barbara was a list item in itself.

I then jumped on some curvy hill highway that took me 2 hours into the night to Grover beach, where I stayed at this lovely little beach cottage that I found through airbnb.  My host Juliet made everything so easy and even left me a bottle of wine and Netflix.  

In the morning, I realized that in my excitement to be in a sweet little cottage with Netflix, I had forgotten that it was Sunday and I should have watched Game of Thrones.  I had to really talk myself out of staying an extra hour to watch it.  I promised myself GoT could wait a few days but I only had so much time to be in Big Sur.  Thank you, past Megan, for your strength.  It was worth it.  

Grover Beach runs right along the 1, so I popped back to the coast and drove north.  I knew it would be pretty.  I had no idea it would be as pretty as it was.

I absolutely love road trips: the opportunity to see pieces of the world I might not otherwise have ever seen, and there so many surprises along the way.  My favorite always is the drive from Syracuse to Brant Lake, New York.  That's partly because I love driving those curvy mountain roads, but it's mostly because everytime I make that drive, I'm heading to Camp Michigania, where I will see dozens of people I consider family.  It feels like going home.  My second favorite drive of all time is I-80 through western Colorado.  I mean, wow.  I've done it twice now, and both times, I was in awe.  

The 1 trumps both of these drives.  The area around Big Sur and Los Padres National Forrest is the most beautiful strip of road I have ever seen.  It's in the top 3 for most beautiful places I've ever seen period.  (The Swiss Alps and German Alps being the other two.)  The route even has places to pull off all throughout because the awe the views inspire is inevitable, and without those spaces to stop, reflect, and snap pictures, there would be a LOT of accidents along the 1.  It is hundreds of miles of all of the blues an ocean can be -- deep and dark, turquoise, sea green -- filled with craggy dark rocks, surrounded by beaches, wildflowers, rolling hills which turn into mountains and cliffs.  Every stop I told myself, you need to pull over here and take this in.  It won't get prettier than this.  But then it did.

Elephant seals

I shouldn't have been, but I was shocked about the sheer amount of wildlife I saw along my drive: elephant seals, wild turkeys, deer, maybe elk, rabbits, and California condors.  I say "maybe elk" because at one point, there was a sign that said "elk viewing."  I decided to keep going because I wasn't sure how far out of my way I'd have to go, and when I glanced left, I saw cars lined up and some dark spaces standing in a field.  Maybe they were elk.

The most incredible wildlife spotting was during a stretch where I thought the ocean views were the most impressive thing around.  Then, I saw these huge birds circling, and there was a turn off where people had pulled over to watch, so I pulled over too.  As I watched, I realized the birds of prey, just ten or so meters above me, were huge, with wing spaces of 4-6 feet.  Then I realized they had white heads.  Then I realized they were condors, our state bird, the California Condor, which is also endangered.  They were magnificent.  This guy nearby gestured in wonder to me, and then he muttered something about his girlfriend not wanting to get out of the car... again.  It was really incredible to see them soaring over the ocean cliffs.

Once I was nearing Big Sur, I noticed the marine layer was hanging heavy over the coast.  Sometmies it obstructed the views, and sometimes it added to them.  At one point, I was so high up on the mountain roads that I was driving above the marine layer.  When I stopped for a view, it looked like the view from an airplane, just a sea of white, fluffy clouds around the rolling mountain tops.  

I had a hard time enjoying the last few miles into Big Sur because I kept worrying that I'd missed it.  There's no reception in that area with the mountains and very, very few people, so I couldn't GPS it.  I had my map and kept reassuring myself that I had not missed my turn, but, since I had stopped a million times, my time estimate of my arrival was completely off.  Eventually I saw some gigantic signs that led me easily to my campsite.

As visiting a new National Park was also on my list, my time in Big Sur is documented here.

On the way to the bay area, I decided to fit in the 17 mile drive.  I've done it before and remembered it being simply amazing.  I guess my standards of beauty have changed a little.  Don't get me wrong, it's still an incredible bit of coastline, but this time, I was surprised by the charnge and just couldn't get over how much of it had been torn down for golf courses.  This bit of Monterey is the home of Pebble Beach Golf Course.  It's a beautiful course... that was probably more beautiful before it was a golf course.  It was surrounded by these gigantic homes.  There was so much private property that the only views are marked viewpoints with landmarks... surrounded by warning signs about not tresspassing on the golf course.  I haven't quite made peace with this part of my journey.  The rest of the drive was such free, open access to beauty, but this bit is owned and private.




After another beautiful drive, I arrived in the bay area around 6:30pm.  I probably should have thought through the hiking, creek-wading, no showering because I was hungry and so were my generous hosts for the night, Sharon & Justin.  They took me to a lively BBQ place in Pleasanton.  I consider Sharon a friend, but the easiest way to describe our relationship is that she is my childhood best friend's little sister.  It was really nice to catch up and to have some easy conversation after so many hours by myself.  They took good care of me, and I really appreciate it.

I tried to wait until slightly after rush hour to head to Oregon.  I failed.  Instead of repeating my lovely day in Eugene, here's a link to that post, since it was a list item on its own.

I mixed up my schedule a bit that day.  I thought I'd catch lunch with my camp friend Chris, head up to Portland to grab dinner with the Schummers and meet their little one, and then head to the coast to stay for the night.  However, I didn't realize that the track meet I had tickets for didn't really start until 4pm, so dinner didn't work.  I would really like to make it to Portland soon and would be thrilled to actually spend some quality time with my old Chicago friends the Schummers.

"Shhhh... Dreaming of Adventures"

Since Portland didn't work out, I drove directly the to the coast to stay at the Sylvia Beach Hotel.  I went on the recommendation of my parents, who are two of the coolest people I'll ever meet.  And by cool, I mean authentically cool, in that they, like me, are into what they are into, like books, which is actually what the Sylvia Beach Hotel is all about.  While the hotel is on the beach, it's actually in Newport, Oregon.  It's named after Sylvia Beach, a woman who once owned a famous bookstore in Paris.

Notice the tentacle pen.

The rooms each have an author theme.  I'm a grad student, so I knew I couln't get my heart set on the JK Rowling room, which has an ocean view and was thus a bit more expensive, so I requested the Tolkein room, which was also booked.  I settled for the Jules Verne room.  Now that I've stayed there, I would have chosen that room first.  It was hella cool.  The bed has a frame modeled after an old timey submarine, like in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.  There is a giangantic tenticle reaching out of the wall through a porthole and another porthole shows the sea monter's bulging eye.  The writing desk sits next to an old, gigantic compass.  The bathroom was huge and had this incredible mural covering the walls and ceiling, all reminiscent of Around the World in 80 Days...  with the sea monster obviously making an appearance.


Since it's been since high school since I've read any Verne, I listened to most of Journey to the Center of the Earth on my Oregon drive.  At first, I was just going through the motions and wasn't very interested.  I'm still not finished, and I'm geeked to hear what happens next on this tale of adventure.

When I booked the room, I had completely forgotten that Jules Verne is all about adventure.  Specifically, he writes about adventures into the unknown.  It was the perfect room for my journey, which was all about the journey and not the destination.

The phone-and-clock-free room gave me the best sleep of my life.  I woke up, went to breakfast at the hotel restaurant: Tables of Content.  It was a great little meal with a ton of choices and I only learned after that it was included in my meal.  It made me wish I had been there for the very affordably priced prix fix dinner the night before.  I wandered into the open rooms that had been occupied the night before.  I just loved that place.

I then got back on the road and headed to Sacramento where I was trying to meet my former supervisor Andrew for a beer.  However, there were a combination of issues that arose: Andrew had to go pick up his nephews, so he needed to leave by 7, but I had miscalculated the time, there were several accidents, and I had somehow set my GPS to "walk," so my GPS kindy kept me off the highways, where walking is not permitted, for the first hour or so.  I knew I should have relied on my maps, but I wanted to get the quickest route.  Since I thought it was a 7 hour drive, I didn't notice when instead it said, "7 days."  I only noticed when it wasn't changing.  Shoot.

So I got to my hotel in the suburbs of Sacramento, just a Hampton Inn, which was definitely in my budget.  It was surprisingly nice and very comfortable.  The only thing that was obnoxious was that there really wasn't anything nearby where I could sit at a bar, maybe get a bartender to chat with me for some socialization after 9+ hours alone, and have some dinner and a glass of wine.  I finally found a lively Italian place, but it was so lively with an older crowd that it wasn't possible to make conversation with the bartender.  The couple next to me said a couple things to me but was also very handsy and not looking for casual chit chat.  Dinner was great as was the wine though.  I then headed back to my hotel and FINALLY watched Game of Thrones.  I can't believe I waited that long.  Then I was dying to talk to someone about it but was unsuccessful.  Oh, Pacific Coast time...

Mt Shasta seemed visible for hours.

In the morning I set off for San Diego.  It's funny.

I know that it is much warmer inland than on the coast, but I somehow don't ever believe it.  It was a comfortable 70-some degrees during my whole trip.  I guess I had just missed the heat in Eugene.  But then inland, it stayed around 105.  It was sweltering.  And there were all these signs about the drought.  I had mixed feelings because the area is obviously a desert, so it seems strange to be angry about a drought that's hurting the farming industry that is really out of place, water-wise, in central California, but it's also hard to see so many areas hurting so hard becasue of the drought.  The weirdest thing was when I noticed that the signs were blaming politicians, specifically Barbara Boxer and Nancy Pelosci.  I'm curious about how they're responsible for the drought but not curious enough to actually look it up.

Traffic was miserable all through and then south of LA all the way to San Diego.  The last 2 hours of my drive was brutal.  I was ready to be home.  I did get to hear a bit more of my books on tape, but I was ready.

I made it home on Saturday afternoon, just in time to relax, have some homemade dinner, and chill before bed and then getting up in the morning for another Sunday morning on the beach volleyball courts.  It was a perfect vacation, and I'm happy I jumped at the opportunity when I had the time to make it happen.  

#85 - Visit a New National Park

National Park #1: Los Padres National Forrest

I planned my west coast road trip for the beauty.  The area around Big Sur and Los Padres National Forrest is the most beautiful strip of road I have ever seen.

I was ready to rough it at the Pfeiffer State Park camp grounds.  Erin had lent me her tent, sleeping pad, sleeping bag, and JetBoil stove.  I had packed plenty of hiking and camping food, my headlamp, and a few other wilderness necessities.  Most of the gear was completely unecessary.  I had a private camp site, surrounded by dozens of other campers.  Within a mile's walk was a lodge with a full restaurant and cafe.  I set up my tent, placed everything in a place I'd be able to find it in the dark, changed into my hiking boots, and set off for adventure.  

It turns out I should have planned out this adventuring a little better.  I could not figure out where I should go and which hikes would require the packful of snacks and gear I had prepared.  Within the park, I did a hour-ish hike to some waterfalls, which are more like water sprinkles thanks to the devastating drought we've been experiencing.  It was beautiful, and I seemed to be followed by this blue woodpecker-type bird that I convinced myself was a mockingjay despite it's lack of voice.

One of the reasons I wanted to stop at Big Sur was because of this fantastic waterfall I'd seen photos of.  However, I had completely neglected to look up the name of the falls or where they might be.  I just assumed they were so incredible that I'd be able to find the information easily once I arrived.  No one seemed to know what I was talking about.  I searched through books on Big Sur in the gift shop, and finally found that it was called McWay Falls.  I then saw that it was in Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park, the entrance to which I had pulled into on my drive, thinking it was the Pfeiffer Campgrounds.  I debated going in the morning, when I knew I'd have plenty of time, but then decided to at least do part of the hike, see how far it was, and I could just turn around if the sun started to go down.

I parked, tightened my hiking boots, and set off down the trail... about 20-30 yards, and then emerged at the cliffs above the falls.  I seriously took about 5 minutes.  Although I didn't have to work hard for it, McWay falls may be the most beautiful place I have ever seen in my life.  The marine layer was still hanging, so at first, my pictures were foggy and the view wasn't as spectacular.  But every few minutes, the fog would clear, and the colors of the scene were breathtaking.  A white stream of water fell from the rocky, treed area onto the sandy beach, where the light blue waves lapped at the sand, rolling steadily in from the deeper blue cove, surrounded by trees and rocks.

A little further down the cliff trail were the remains of an old house, information about the falls and the house, and another view of rocky cliffs rising out of the ocean in the fog.  The original owners built the house so that the bedroom window faced McWay falls.  When the Pfeiffer family bought the property, they eventually decided it was selfish to keep such beauty private, and opened the area to the public.  Eventually the state of California tore down the house and dedicated the state park to Julia Pfeiffer Burns.

The other interesting bit of information was that originally the falls fell directly into the ocean, but several years ago, down the coast from the area, a huge mudslide crumbled a cliff face into the ocean.  All of the sand then washed up in the cove and created the beach at McWay Falls.

Since the hike didn't take nearly as long as anticipated, I drove slowly back up the coast and stopped for a glass of wine and a snack at Nepenthe, a quirky, naturally fit resaturant at the top of one of the mountains.  The patio overlooks the coast and has incredible views.  I ordered some wine and asparagus (way fancier than I had planned for dinner that night) and enjoyed the view.  I realized it was almost a perfect scene, so asked the women beside me to watch my things and ran back down to my car to retrieve my second favorite book, Catcher in the Rye, from my car.  However, when I returned, instead of reading, I struck up a conversation with the 2 women, who were visiting from Tahoe and chatted with them throughout our breathtaking happy hour.

I finally made it back to camp and prepared the camping dinner I had brought because, well, because I brought it and had spent a good deal of time pumping myself to camp "alone."  It took me a little bit of time to figure out the JetBoil and to get it going.  I sipped some wine, built a campfire, which my pops taught me to do back in 2011, and waited for the water to boil.  The dried, packaged, camping pasta dish I'd bought was very simple to make and was fairly tasty.  I sat by the campfire and read before retiring to my tent and realizing I had forgotten to pack a pillow.  I had to settle for a towel rolled up in a stuff sack.  It wasn't the most comfy night's sleep, but I was well rested enough for the next day.

The JetBoil process did not go as smoothly in the morning.  I'm still not sure what I did wrong.  So I went and bought myself some tea in the lodge cafe and paired it with some summer sausage, cheese, and crackers for a nice, hikers' breakfast.  I packed up and then headed to the rangers' station to see if there were any other hikes I could do before driving to the bay area.  I checked my map, and it looked like there were 2 on the way north.

I stopped at the first one and did a little walk through some meadows and woods to a beautiful beach.  It was cold and windy, but it was quite lovely.  There were these little driftwood houses.  An 8 year old took my picture next to one.  On the way to the beach, a woman told us that she and her friends had picked up some ticks when they sat to take their shoes on and off when crossing the creek, so on the way back, I just waded through with my Nike Frees, changed into flip flops and headed north.

National Park #2: Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park

Taking a trip to the Big Island wouldn't be complete without a trip to Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park.  Nicole and I took the scenic south island roads around to the park while the rest of the Krones took the Saddle Road to the volcano.  We must have traveled through 5-7 different climates and finally found ourselves on Kilauea Volcano, an active volcano and an eerie place.  At the visitor's center we learned that air conditions were poor and that seeing actual lava would be tough.  Nicole, my mom & dad, and I drove to the caldera overlook while Chris & Casey walked.

The caldera

Steam vents.  Weird.

It was incredibly foggy, so it was tough to see anything in the caldera.  Sometimes when the fog cleared, we could see steam vents in the caldera, but other than that, it was cooled lava, dirt, and some sparse vegetation.  Oh, and a couple nenes.

On the way back towards the visitor's center, we stopped to see the steam vents, which have clearly been consistent in recent history as there is a turn out, and there are railings around the large holes where steam continuously escapes.  The weirder part was that across the street there were 10-16 steam vents continuously belching steam into the air.

We had a picnic lunch where I realized I have clearly learned my Leave No Trace principles and my family made fun of me for about 15 minutes straight.  Then we drove through the rainforest area of the park to walk through the Thurston Lava Tube.  When lava flows, sometimes the outside cools, forming a solid tube that liquid lava continues to flow through.  This particular tube is large enough to walk through easily, as long as you watch your head for one low-hanging da kine.  (My dad has a scrape on the top of his head to prove that point.)  It was weirdly wet inside.

Since seeing any actual lava would have taken planning for some long hikes and possibly a night in the park, we headed out for waterfall viewing and dinner in Hilo.

Inside the Thurston Lava Tube 

#10 - Go to a New State

I started 2015 having been to 29 of our 50 US States plus DC and Puerto Rico.  I manged to hit 30, 31, and 32 between April and November.  Each new state had new adventures and old friends.  Stories below.

State #30: New Hampshire

I'd like to thank our country's founders and line drawers for the very small states of New England.  Once I was already out in Boston, hitting up a new state was no problem, especially since I was visiting my ultimate list competitor, Angela Mioglionico.  She's been hanging around second place for years, and this visit gave her the resolve to steal that coveted #1 spot that hasn't changed since the list started.

The easiest choice would have been Rhode Island, which would have been nice, because I am fond of Rhode Island.  My second favorite hockey player of all time is from Rhode Island.  (My favorite hockey player of all time is from Michigan.)  The problem with visiting nearby Rhode Island is that I know I like it because I've already been there.

So instead, we took about an hour's drive to New Hampshire.  We may have barely cross the border, but we did sit on the edges of a salt marsh and formed an opionion on the epic regional battle for supremecy between Brown's and Markey's, two little lobster shacks just across the border of Massachusetts and New Hampsire.  We shared a lobster roll, clam strips, and clam chowder.  They were delish.  Brown's clearly won the battle... mostly because Markey's isn't open yet for the season.  

We then drove a couple blocks to see the ocean.  It's strange how different one ocean can look from another.  It made me miss home.  Partly because it was cold and there was no way I was touching that water, even in a full wet suit.  

Then we drove the hour home, contemplating the logistics of salt marshes and the origins of cranberry bogs.

That's 31 (or 33) of the 50!  (I honestly cannot remember if I've ever been to Connecticut or West Virginia.  And I'm counting any state I've touched foot to ground.)

"Do most places not have lobster tanks like this?"
"No, Angela.  Most of the time I can't just touch the lobsters."
"Don't touch the lobsters."

State #31: Oregon

I scored yet another state this year!  My road trip and determination to visit Eugene, Oregon brought me to... Oregon.  I think I did Oregon.  I think I've always known I would.  Since this is an update post instead of it's own item, I'll save the details for my Eugene and road trip posts.  Here's a quick summary of the 2 nights and 1.5 days I spent in Oregon.

I left the bay area around 9:30am.  I was trying to leave after the majority of rush hour to get back to the 1, so I could drive up the coast until the sun set.  It turns out there's never a good time to leave the bay area, so it took me forever to get out of the area.  Plus, the GPS in my phone really doesn't understand the subtleties of northern California.  I actually looped around once because it assumed I'd know to take an immediate, unmarked, sharp left turn instead of the easy, obvious right curve across a bridge.  So that didn't help.  I had a map, but trying to navigate a map alone in a city with that many highways just wasn't going to work.

Eventually I made it to the coast and had another fantastically beautiful drive.  There weren't as many places to pull over for photos, and I decided that despite the incredible beauty, I'd just have to take mental pictures and focus on driving.  The windy road first took me along the coast for views of the deep blue ocean and rocky cliffs, but then it would jut inland and I'd be coasting around my favorite kind of roads: curvy, mountain roads surrounded by thick, thick forrest.  I'm used to driving the winding roads in the Adirondaks, but these roads were lined with redwoods.  I was amazed about how much the light could change from one mile to the next depending on the density and elevation.

Two human things really struck me on this drive.  1) I have never seen so many hitchhikers as I did on this stretch of Jefferson.  What is that?  I was a little tempted to pick up a couple, but being a single woman travelling alone with no one who would notice my lack of arrival late at night in Eugene, I thought that was probably a stupid idea.  But it also felt heartless to just drive by these people who purported to only need a seat in my car that I was only using to house my books on CD and some snacks.  2) As soon as I entered Oregon, there was a butterfly sanctuary and then across the street... a tiger ranch.  I mean, WHAT.  Just down the street, homes where clearly children live.  No, thank you.  I persisted awhile after that before stopping for dinner.

I wanted to stay on the 1, but I eventually just GPS'ed the quickest route to Eugene because I was several hours in and still had several hours to go, and I was exhausted already.  The country roads took me inland through beautiful farmland and horse farms.  I eventually ended up in Grant's Pass (which I only looked up today) and had a great meal at Taprock with the company of a very kind bartender.

When I went to pay for my grilled Caesar salad (awesome) and glass of wine (which he had upgraded at no charge when they were out of the house red), I couldn't find my debit card.  He insisted I just go check my car and he didn't need any collateral.  I couldn't find it in the dark.  With tip, I was a dollar short.  Even though he was having a tough night with some jerky customers who would surely short tip him, he waved off my problem, shook my hand, and told me that the universe would pay him back.  I felt better and worse all at once.  Until I got back to my car and realize I'd actually tipped him over 20%, and my initial math was just bad, probably due to the 11 hours I'd spent alone in the car up until then.  I was relieved I only had 2 hours to go and thankful to Grace Bagunu for chatting with me for awhile to perk me back up.

I had a great almost-24 hours in Eugene, which is blogged here.  Christian took me all around, so he gets credit for this one too.

I then took off for the coast to stay at the Sylvia Beach Hotel, which is hands down the coolest hotel I've ever stayed in.  If you ever get the chance to go to the Oregon central coast, go.  If you are a book lover, you need to book yourself a trip to Oregon.  I'll detail that experience in the road trip post because it deserves a little more attention than under an "updated" post.

After that fantastic stay, I made my 9 hour drive to Sacramento.  I was on a lot of back roads for the first 2 hours because I had not realized that my phone GPS was set to "walk," and my phone wanted to keep me off highways.  I knew I should have followed the map.  Always follow the map.  The drive was going to be another long one, so I was hoping to short cuts around the traffic back ups.  Nope, follow the map.

Oregon is a really beautiful state and I only met kind people along the way.  I hope to visit again soon.

State #32: Hawai'i


I hate my birthday.  I've hated it since I turned 17.  That year, I was a senior in high school and nearly all of my friends were freshmen in college.  My birthday always falls just before Thanksgiving (and never on Thanksgiving).  That year, I was looking forward to seeing all of my friends who were coming back to town for the holiday, but then I was crushed when not a single one of them remembered to wish me a happy birthday the week before.  My boyfriend at the time even blew it off.  I was sad but also wanted to be happy when I saw everyone.  Then the Friday after Thanksgiving, I went to my friend Heidi's house, and there, they threw me a surprise party.  It was an extremely well-intentioned gesture, but I spent my actual birthday alone and feeling forgotten, and then the party itself was more about everyone seeing each other than my birthday.  I also now hate surprise parties.

Rainbow Falls in Hilo

It wasn't a traumatic event.  But it wasn't a fun birthday either.  And that's how the week leading up to my birthday always tends to go for me.  Just lots of little bad luck, like last year I had to park really far from work and when I got back to my car late at night, it had gotten hit hard, so now the back left corner is dented and scraped because I can't afford to fix it.  Nothing life shattering.  Just bummers.

Dad & me at Pololu Valley

I can handle a little bad luck.  I can even make fun of myself for it.  The real issue was that I started having so much anxiety about my birthday each year that whenever there was a gathering attended by most of my friends, I still didn't enjoy it because I was so focused on who wasn't there, whether they were late or ditching out, or who forgot to call or text.  There could be 99 people fully out celebrating with me, and I would be distracted by the 1 who wasn't.  I was spending all my energy on the people who didn't show up in my life instead of appreciating those who did.

In 2009, I decided to make a change.  Three girlfriends and I booked a trip to Las Vegas.  We had a fantastic time.  Leaving town, I knew exactly who would be there, exactly who wouldn't (or so I thought: 2 of my college friends who live in San Diego surprised me), and I could have fun with the people I was with.  In the following years, I took 7 friends with me to Louisville, 2 to Kalamazoo, visited 2 friends in LA, 4 with me to Puerto Rico, and 4 to Catalina Island (yes, that Catalina Island, Step Brothers fans).

Why am I telling you all of this when the sub-title of this section is Hawai'i?  Because this year, I was trying to plan a vacation with my parents to the Pacific northwest.  The plans weren't going smoothly.  I really wanted to drive up the coast, but it would be easier to fly and meet them and then drive around.  So on one of the calls, my mom said we could do something else.  I said, "Want to go to Hawaii for Thanksgiving?"  She said, "Okay."  I had wanted to continue the island birthday getaway theme, I wanted to go to Hawaii, and this is definitely the closest I'll ever live to Hawaii, but I didn't expect her to say yes just like that.

Nicole & me stand up paddle boarding

My parents made the travel plans.  My brother and his wife decided to come along.  And then, one of my oldest and favorite friends, Nicole Green decided to join us for a few days too.

Waipi'o Valley

We ate seafood, did some stand-up paddle boarding, "surfed," snorkeled, took some scenic drives, stood on a volcano and walked through a lava tube, saw some waterfalls, had lots of Kona Brewing Company beer, laughed ourselves silly at Big Island Brewhaus (possibly due to the elevation-alcohol combo), saw lots of sea creatures like sea turtles and fish, and had Thanksgiving dinner at Macaroni Grill.  (That last one wasn't quite in the plans, but we couldn't make a decision about the limited places to eat and chose Macaroni Grill for the price and convenience.)  All in all, it was a lovely, relaxing week.

For anyone planning a trip to Hawaii (any island) without a very knowledgeable local guide, I highly recommend the Hawaii Revealed series AND mobile phone app.  Both helped us find some great meals and sights!

#31 - Go to Eugene, Oregon

For a lot of people, this probably seems like a very random town to be on a list of places to visit.

For runners, it's an obvious choice.

Eugene, Oregon, is the home of the University of Oregon and Hayward Field, which, at one time, was the home track of Steve Prefontaine,"Pre," one of the greatest, and most tragic, runners of all time.  There are much more well-researched books and movies about his life, so I won't write a full autobiography here, but Pre is a legend and an inspiration in the running community.  He had spirit, swagger, and incredible passion.

Pre left us the legacy of his words.  He mastered the language of the relentless pursuit of greatness.  One of his most famous quotes is "To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift."  I believe those words were on our t-shirts for my high school indoor track team, which was called "Spirit of Pre," which was my introduction to the running legend.  They were definitely written on my running shoes when I ran my marathon.

I ran both cross country and track in middle school and high school, but track was my favorite.  I loved the idea that even if I couldn't beat my opponent, or even a teammate, I could still win if I could beat myself.  Pre's messages were all about running as a meditation on our own capacities.  While I didn't have that language back when I learned to love the spirit of my sport, I now know that I have always connected to running because of the way it allows me to connect to my true self: to be alone with my thoughts, moving, sometimes struggling, and becoming a stronger, more authentic me.  Any hurt I'm carrying becomes physical pain that drop down through my legs, to my feet, and I leave it behind me in a trail of it in my footprints.

Ever since my introduction to the story of Pre, I wanted to visit the quirky little town of Eugene, Oregon.  To visit Hayward Field and to run along the tree-lined streets where Pre put in miles through the soles of his shoes... enough miles that he inspired the creation of Nike, which still maintains its relationshpi with the University of Oregon in honor of its origin.

When I decided to road trip north, San Francisco didn't seem far enough, and, given my long-time longing to be there, Eugene seemed like the obvious choice of the next furthest stop.

The pathway to the Round House

After a spectacularly beautiful but long drive, 13-14 hours from the bay area, I arrived at my next airbnb, which was this quirkly little Round House in the yard of quirky, beautiful, big house built and owned by a father-and-son architect team.  Even though I wasn't able to stay there long, it was really homey, and they had really thought of everything.

The next morning, I got a call from my old camp buddy Christian, who is working on his PhD in Economics at the University of Oregon.  I went for a quick run around the block, showered, watched part of the Game of Thrones episode I had missed, and then went to pick Chris up.  We grabbed lunch and he took me on a walking tour of campus with an emphasis on references to The Simpsons.

I then dropped Chris off because the stars had aligned for an extra special runner treat.  While I was planning my trip, I noticed a post on my facebook timline from the University of Michigan Women's Track and Field page congratulating another runner on qualifying for the NCAA Outdoor Track and Field Championship...  in Eugene, Oregon.  I checked the dates, and, fates be blessed, I could be there.  I was not only going to Eugene, but I was going to get to go to a track meet at Hayward Field.  Not just any track meet, the NCAA championship...  and four Michigan women would be competing!  I would get to cheer on my fellow wolverines in person at Hayward Field.  (Several men also qualified, but until the finals, they competed on different days, so I wouldn't get to watch them.)

Not only is Michigan my alma mater and track my best sport, but for my first two years of college, I was the team manager for the University of Michigan Women's Track and Field team.  While I don't know any of the women on the current team, it was still pretty cool to get a chance to watch this team compete at the national level.  I even ran into the UM coaches, prepping to see the extra cool race where Cindy Ofili's qualified her for the 100m hurdle finals, where she placed 2nd in the nation a couple days later.  Erin Finn finished fifth in the 5000m and Brook Handler finished seventh in the 1500m.  A very impressive showing from all four wolverines.

I spent a few hours at Hayward Field, unable to sit still.  I watched a few races from my seat in the grand stands (yes, Hayward Field, dedicated only to track and field, has grand stands), watched a few trackside, and did a slow lap around the field.  I was surrounded by thousands of hopeful athletes, families, friends, and fans, dozens of teams, colors, logos, triumphs, defeat.  I cannot imagine a more perfect pilgrammage.

To finish up my brief time in Eugene, Chris had invited me to a barbeque with some of his classmates.  They kindly welcomed me, fed me, and included me in wonderfully nerdy conversations before I drove out to the coast to stay for the night.

I hope to visit again someday... maybe I'll do the Eugene Half Marathon so I can trump my own Hayward Field experience by finishing on the legendary track.  Until then, I'll have a lovely afternoon to remember.

#47 - Visit Santa Barbara

I was hoping that this one would include a full weekend -- or at least a full 24 hours -- in Santa Barbara.  But, since I stopped and had a dinner, I'm counting it.

When I planned my road trip up the coast, I planned to stop for at least a full night in Santa Barbara, to see this lovely coastal town that I had heard about regularly during my 3 years in San Diego.  But...  I'm still on that student salary, so I just couldn't find an affordable place to stay.  Instead, I booked a great little beach cottage in Grover Beach through airbnb, which worked out great.

I did manage to drive through Santa Barbara and to catch a meal at Brophy Bros.  I scored a seat at the bar and the bartenders took good care of me.  I had a great glass of wine, some delightful fish and chips, and a beautiful view of the harbor.  The highlight, however, was the trio of older women who ended up next to me.  They were rowdy and hilarious, and one had both a neckbrace and 2 eyes tattooed on the back of her head, which were visible with her buzzed hair.  Being them when I grow up is my new life goal.
Since it was a short stop, I'll leave this as a short post.  I do hope to go back someday.  I was sorry to leave, but once I got to Big Sur, I was not sorry to have more time there.  I'll save all of that for my next post!

#25 - Defend My Dissertation Proposal (Part 2)

Christopher, me, Zachary, and Lee

My committee has and will continue to play an important part in my dissertation.  I'm so grateful for their energy and time because they are not only pushing me to a better dissertation, but they are pushing me to be a better researcher, a better professional, a better person.  I am so thankful for Christopher, Lee, and Zachary.  Thank you.

In the weeks before my defense, Annie Ngo kindly read through my survey, and Mariko Peshon was a gracious audience for a practice run.  I am extremely grateful for their feedback and encouragement.

On the day of the proposal, I ran into a few hiccups, but I had the overwhelming feeling that everything was going to work out perfectly, so there was no need to worry.

When I was leaving the house, I couldn't find the bracelet my aunt had made when my cousin Brandon died.  I searched a bit and then resolved to grab a photo of him, and there was the bracelet, hanging right next to the picture.  No need to worry.

I arrived at the building an hour early.  There were two students studying in the room I was assigned and seemed a little perturbed I was shuffling around.  The printer didn't want to print the qualifying form my committee needed to sign.  The computer took a long time loading.  I couldn't find my thumb drive.  My computer wouldn't recognize the drive Mari loaned me.  Heather loaned me another, and the main computer wouldn't recognize that.  Heather came over to help with the set up.  My committee started to arrive.  Christopher loaned me his computer.  Heather loaned me a clicker.  Everything was set to go just in time.

The room filled with supportive faces.  I felt very held by the group who showed up, and I have a lot of gratitude for the energy my committee, friends, colleagues, and a few strangers brought to that room.

Thank you

The presentation itself was a little longer than it should have been, but I felt calm and confident throughout.


The questions were tough, but none were jarring.  I was eager for the conversation.

While the committee debated, I waited outside with friends for what seemed like forever.

Then they called me back in, told me I passed with minor revisions, and gave me some lovely feedback and suggestions that only felt like they were making my work even stronger.

Later that night, I celebrated with a few friends who had been there during the proposal and a few others who weren't, and it was perfect.

Thank you, everyone, for your energy yesterday!

#25 - Defend My Dissertation Proposal (Part One)

This may be the item that has taken the longest to prepare... though I hope it only holds that title for 10 more months.

2011 could have been the toughest year of my life to that point.  But it wasn't.  Because of this list, this idea, this blog.  On that initial list, I wrote "Apply to a PhD program."  And I did.  Several, actually.  On each application I wrote about campus mental health and the immense potential for positive change there is in that area, growth that could save a lot of people from a lot of suffering.  The only bad guy we have to fight is ignorance.  Because I know we all want our students to be well, our communities to be well, our world to be well.

Like most things in life, this interest came from a seemingly random intersections of experiences.  Now, I'd probably call it the emergence of a need from the right intersection of experiences.

I have been a Student Affairs professional since 2006, and I have been on 5 different campuses in various capacities since 1998.  When I wrote my applications, I had 5 solid years of full-time experience working with college students and 6 years of professional engagement at conferences.  Most of those conferences were for recreation professionals (NIRSA, IIRSA), but every now and then I went to a regional Student Affairs organization conference.  I'd rather not say which one because I haven't been to enough to know if the following story is characteristic of the organization nor this particular region.  At the conference, sessions were labeled with symbols, an artifact of their culture meant to tell you which sessions might be of interest.  There were also symbols of exclusion, as in, some sessions were only meant for people of a certain status, something that was very foreign to me and my comfort in the NIRSA world.

One of these sessions happened to be one of the few at the conference that seemed interesting to me.  It was meant for deans and up.  I wanted to go.  Not many people knew me.  Very few people in that room would know me.  I could play dumb if someone called me out.  And I wanted to go.  So I did.

The session, from my memory, explained a new practice of employing case workers in working with students demonstrating severe signs and symptoms of mental illness.  I can't remember the exact year, but I believe this was after 2007, a year that marked a change in the approach to mental illness in higher education.

In 2007, 32 members of the Virginia Tech community were killed in a mass shooting.  17 more were injured.  The university focused its attention on caring for its community.  The media split its attention between the victims and the shooter, whom we soon learned showed many signs of mental illness and distressing behavior, which was noticed by various members of the Virginia Tech community.  The media described his delusions, his violent writings, and the lack of any system for identifying students who could cause such terrifying, traumatic events.

A desire to create a system to identify such students emerged.  The campus practice "Behavioral Concerns Teams" emerged.  Though they are not required in most states, many campuses quickly created them, not wanting to be the next Virgnia Tech.

Then not wanting to be the next Northern Illinois.  The next Oikos University.  The next UC Santa Barbara.

The incidents are tragic, random, and few.  The media coverage was more predictable.  Fear spread quickly, and more and more campuses have incorporated at-risk student identification teams.

Administrators, like this one in that session, were concerned with students safety, but they were also concerned with liability and institutional accountability.  It's a tricky balance.  Unless you consider how unlikely mass shootings are and how inevitable suicides seem to be in campus settings.

This administrator was extremely concerned with liability and institutional accountability.  He told a story about a student who had attempted suicide and shortly after took a voluntary leave of absence.  He expressed relief that she was now off campus, a campus he described as having issues of easy access to lethal means.  He expressed concern about her return.  Since she took a voluntary leave of absence, he could not put any restrictions on when or how she returned, if she chose to do so.  He asked the speakers what he could do to keep her off campus so that she would not return and kill herself, leaving the institution liable.

From what I remember, the speakers did not answer the question but awkwardly further explained the case worker process and how case workers would support such a student in a personal way.

Shortly after this conference, I attended my first Depression on College Campuses conference.  The theme that year had to do with suicide prevention.  I remember sitting in various rooms in the beautiful Rackham Graduate College at the University of Michigan and feeling repeatedly inspired by the wonderful work that people were doing all over the country to improve mental health, and, that year, to prevent suicide on campuses.

I remember learning about the structural limitations counseling offices had -- limited staff and space, which limited session availability and caused long waiting lists.  I remember hearing about how counseling sessions were filled with students who already know how to seek help and how little time there was to reach out to students who were not seeking help.  I also remember hearing how many sessions were filled by students who could just as easily benefitted from participating in a number of other campus programs or services, students who were lonely and looking for connection.  The presenters talked about how they were so busy in their offices serving students that they didn't have time for outreach, and so much of that time was taken by students who likely did not need counseling, only connection.  They wanted to know, how could they reach the students when they didn't have any way to create relationships until the students showed up.

I sat there thinking, I can do that.  As a Student Affairs professional, I have continuous, direct relationships with students.  I know them personally.  They trust me.  They come to me with problems.  I do my best to help them.

I thought, if I had a better relationship with my campus counseling center, I could be that connection they needed.  So could any of my colleagues.  The counseling center didn't need to be doing this all alone.  We could help.

We could also help with the second problem: students seeking counseling when what they are really looking for is connection.  My job is to create community, to foster genuine connections.  If we had better relationships with the counseling center, we could connect students to them and they could connect students to us.

My work has come a long way from that place.  I still believe in the power of connections and in recognizing the importance of each other's work.  I still believe that the mental health of our communities should be a shared responsibility and that we should work with campus mental health professionals to guide our work with students.

Despite my passion and connection to this topic, I genuinely believed I would change topics multiple times while in my doctoral program.  I thought maybe I'd study generational differences, recreation, and I did, a little.  I even delved deeply in to Third Space theory.  But I always came back.  And each time I attended the Depression on College Campuses conference I reconnected with this idea of shared responsibility and the potential of and within healthy communities.  My fire was stoked each time I learned about the beautiful work my fellow conference attendees and the presenters.  There were so many people doing innovative, passionate work to reduce the amount of suffering and to increase the amount of joy in this world, starting with college campuses.

And so various iterations with various perspectives brought me back to my final topic: "Campus Mental Health Practices and the Stigma of Mental Illness."

I saw such inspiring work at the Depression on College Campuses conference, but no one seemed to have researched the effectiveness of the practices.  I was hopeful that they were working: that students were mentally healthier and that more students experiencing the signs and symptoms of mental illness were seeking help.  But no one seemed to know except anecdotally.

There is a major data set about student mental health, but I could only get access to the data in aggregate, which meant I couldn't link the practices to outcomes of health.  I also did not have a good way to measure help-seeking behaviors.  However, I learned through a review of the literature that help-seeking behaviors are negatively correlated with the stigma of mental illness.  In our survey research methods class, we were challenged to create a scale of measurement for a concept, and through that work, I thought that maybe I could measure stigma.

I chose Student Affairs professionals as my lens, due to my own experiences and belief about the accessability of the population.

I chose to examine the topic quantitatively, exploring for possible associations between campus mental health practices and the stigma of mental illness, to explore for hope.  Does anything appear to be working?  Is anything possibly contributing to lower levels of stigma?  Are there things we can do to make our campuses happier, healthier communities?

Depending on the results, there could be so many implications for practice and further research to really explore practices that might be working.

After a semester in Dissertation Seminar, I worked the topic, with the generous feedback of our instructor and department chair Dr. Afsaneh Nahavandi and my classmates, all of whom have been tagged here.

Then, with some thoughtful, energetic work from my dissertation chair, Dr. Christopher Newman, and my committee members, Dr. Lee Williams and Dr. Zachary Green, I was approved to defend my dissertation proposal.  I am really, honestly grateful that Christopher agreed to be my chair and that Lee and Zachary agreed to be on my committee.  I want to do good work, and I know they won't accept anything less.

Although I had to really work hard to solidify my argument, methods, and analyses, I won't bore you here with those details.

In Part Two, I'll talk about the actual defense, and all of the wonderful people who challenged and supported me during those hours.