“We want to possess what they’re not making any more, what not many others can get and what will distinguish us from others.” (Gina Barreca)

Being dubbed the “Magic City of The Plains” in its heyday, Cheyenne, Wyoming once served as as a major stopover point for passengers on the historic Union Pacific line inaugural run moving westward toward California in the 1870s. For Ruth and I, we similarly viewed Cheyenne as a convenient junction to take a meaningful two night breather from those long drives across the Midwest and Great Plains of America on our current road trip. After all, we would soon be facing new challenges in the arduous Rocky Mountains of Colorado during the next leg of our current adventure. So I desired to find some time in Cheyenne to obtain an authentic feel for what traveling in the 19th century along these iconic Union Pacific Railways might have felt like at that time.

So my city research called for me to take an extensive look at Cheyenne’s rail transportation legacy last weekend at its famed Depot Museum. Serving as passenger terminal over the years since 1887, the first floor of this restored National Historic landmark now features an engaging museum provided through interactive exhibits and authentic period photos about Cheyenne’s early origins as a passenger railway hub. For this was an era of locomotive travel when I understood how train travelers took great risk in enduring the harsh realities of desolate terrain isolation, frequent Indian raids, and hellish winter conditions in the rugged west. On other adverse occasions, I learned that passengers delayed by rail track derailing or train engine failures would resort to begging people who lived near their frequent stops for food while waiting days for the train to move.

Moving across the first floor to the depot baggage room, I gained a further glimpse of early train travel by sitting on benches original to the waiting room and taking time to inspect luggage carts, bulky suitcases, and baggage scales scales from the period. While upstairs in the depot, I found further interest in the transition of American railways from steam engines to the diesel electric era as I walked around scale various narrow gauge railroad exhibits featuring scale model neighborhood simulations of Cheyenne and other western vicinities in early to mid 20th century times.

On a personal level, today’s tour of the Cheyenne Depot Museum gave rise to greater sensitivity for those passengers who once sought a new life in the American West via the Transcontinental Railroad. For while I share their sense of awe at seeing the vastness and beauty of the American West. I too express outrage at times as passengers once did in experiencing such perils of such long distance western travel. So, let’s just say I am an “old soul” at heart who’s looking to carve out his own path along the western frontier while being fully inspired by that historic period of explosive railroad growth in Cheyenne as described in this blog. Enjoy the photos.

“Nebraskans laugh at the good jokes, become resigned to the bad ones, and, in all cases, have always nodded knowingly to themselves, warmed in the knowledge that they have built the Good Life.” (David Hendee – World-Herald staff writer)

Every so often I find a place in my travels that demonstrates what a good life should be. You might know this feeling as a strong sense of inner contentment in the experience of now. So I would like to describe to you in the following paragraphs how such positive visions arose for me on our three day, road trip stopover in Lincoln, Nebraska this week.

As we traveled through eastern Nebraska on Wednesday, I gripped the steering wheel more tightly on this cold and windy morning drive along Interstate 80. As these heavy cross drafts  caused my vehicle to sway sideways at times, I definitely seemed more alert to my surroundings. So as I drove on carefully that day, I began to notice that thousands of dead corn stalks on each side of the highway bended outward from the wind in unison.Most oddly,  I now seemed to be daydreaming that this vast sea of corn hands were waving cordially to greet my sudden arrival and I would at some point emerge from this stalk strewn prairie-land as their powerful king. A few hours later in the distance to my left , I also took great notice of the towering dome of the State Capitol of Lincoln. No doubt its conspicuous presence amid the prairie was signaling like a protective lighthouse beacon to welcome us into Lincoln that day. I could only wonder during these moments why  so many nice thoughts surfaced in Nebraska that first day. 

After settling into our motel that weekday afternoon, we looked forward to finding quality time to spend with our former Florida friends Nicole and Paul and their new baby Luciana during our two day visit. But some brief text conversations with them heightened our concern that their fast growing infant seemed to be keeping them up at night. So as it seemed wrong for us to impose on their need for more privacy now given their current sleep deprived condition, I’d become ecstatic about the sudden prospect of having more free time to experience some leisurely times of interest on my own in Lincoln instead. So on the next morning, I made it a foremost priority to at last, tour the widely renowned “Great Hall’ of the Nebraska State Capitol interior.

Picture then the following masterpieces of human endeavor that demonstrate the Good Life” that one might seek in this State Capitol  photograph set below. Imagine then the sheer exhilaration I felt quietly moving with six other tour strangers through an elaborately arched hall built of fine Italian marble lined with priceless tile mosaics and colorfully intricate murals covering seemingly every wall, ceiling, and floor in this grand hallway. Notice closely in these designs how certain soul uplifting themes would thereupon emerge upon close inspection such as the “Gifts of Nature”, “Past, Present, and Future Life on the Plains”, Cosmic Energy” and Highlights of Modern Civilization. Toward the end of our Great Hall tour, you might notice further why I stood in the Capitol Rotunda mesmerized by a captivating series of mosaics dedicated to the work of society to achieve virtue and the noble life. Set your sights as well on that spectacularly panoramic view of the Lincoln vicinity in the round that I saw from the four hundred feet heights of the domed Capitol Tower that happy day.

“ Every man can transform the world from one of monotony and drabness to one of excitement and adventure.” (Irving Wallace)

Sometimes our road trips seem influenced by the whims of the heart rather than the logic of rational planning. In the case of our latest Fall adventure, some unforeseen emotions have transformed our normally clockwise oval route from east coast heading west and back to more of a zig zag pattern of random locational choice since we left Texas last week. As a result, our latest destination drives to Memphis and Louisville vicinities in the Midwest have lasted longer, Involving nearly five hundred mile sprints each day. 

All of this apparent road trip confusion seemingly happened because my beloved Major League Baseball team, the Cleveland Guardians unexpectedly made the Wild Card playoffs this year. It then became necessary reach my former Cleveland hometown as soon as we could, to celebrate locally this rare occasion. As an added bonus, sheer emotion would give me the chance to act like a “kid” again when I luckily purchased decent tickets to attend two out of three of these  scheduled home games last weekend at Progressive Field. In retrospect, I’m grateful that I remained determined to “Stand For The Land” as they won both games against the Tampa Bay Rays in dramatic fashion to justify my decision.

So as you examine the following photograph set, join me in taking notice of how your passions for sports teams might influence where and when you travel in the future. I also want to thank my wife’s cousin Jo and her husband Tim for putting up with me this past weekend with my anxious “game face” on during our four day stay with them again in their “comfy” home. With a windy chill in the air, we’re on next to Nebraska, looking forward to those “Great Plains” drives amid more wide open spaces.

“If I could find a white man who had the Negro sound and the Negro feel, I could make a billion dollars!” (Sam Phillips -Owner of Sun Record Studios)

Another important Mississippi River stopover for Ruth and me on our Colorado road trip took place in Memphis, Tennessee this week. With however only a few hours to spare, we would concentrate our attention at legendary Sun Record Studio nearby the famed Beale Street music corridor of downtown Memphis. For we desired greatly to feel the musical vibe where the historic roots of American rock n’ roll music began there in the early 1950s. So upon waiting patiently in a sizable queue at the front of the building facing Union Avenue, we joined our twenty five person tour promptly at 10:00 am.

For the next forty five minutes, our tour guide narrated a fascinating story about such country musicians as Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash, and Carl Perkins as well as rhythm and blues artists like BB. King, Howlin’ Wolf and Ike Turner who chose to record their songs at Sun Studios during its heyday time. But legendary owner, Sam Phillips, according to our host in this period went on to inspire a new cultural revolution by looking for new artists who would produce a new Rock n’ Roll sound for radio distribution that he thought to be a blend of the best Negro and White recorded music at the time.

So what about the Elvis connection at Sun Studios we soon wondered? For as his story continued, we learned that Elvis first came into the studio in the summer of 1953 and paid $4.00 to record an original song for his mother called “My Happiness.” He was 18 years old; a good-looking yet shy boy with acne on his neck, long sideburns, and long, greasy hair combed in a ducktail that he had to keep patting down. It seemed on first impression that Elvis most likely desired that his promo would enable him to show off to Phillips his preferred repertoire of slow country ballads and gospel religious tunes then. But Phillips, who was not in the building that day seemed to take little musical interest in the young man at that time.

Yet Phillips’ assistant, Marion Keisker, who had assisted Elvis in “cutting” his demo that day would later bring up his name to Phillips on multiple occasions.This led to a more formal audition at the studio with a session band in July of 1954. So during this new recording occasion, Presley’s fortunes suddenly changed when he broke into an “up-tempo” blues song called “That’s All Right.” Phillips now saw something worthwhile in Elvis’ loose and free style of singing accompanied by his uninhibited show of self confidence.That astounding performance would mark the beginning of a string of iconic Rock n’ Roll hits recorded by Elvis at Sun Studio in future years.

In addition to hearing this interesting account of the Elvis’ Rock n’ Roll evolution at Sun Record Studios as described above, the authentic 1950s look of this recording studio where Elvis played captivated my attention as well on this tour. Thus I particularly pondered about the odd contrast of listening to several tracks of old Elvis songs then resonating from acoustically modern sound tools in the room yet wondered  what an actual recording session in the 1950s might have been like? How difficult that task must have been back then,  given those showcased exhibits of limited recording and playback technology I observed that day during my walk around.

Our tour of Sun Studios perhaps would end too soon. But I continued to feel the charismatic musical presence of Elvis as we passed by iconic music clubs, souvenir window shops, and eye catching mural walls during an early afternoon walk later on along Beale Street. So I am pleased to present to you the following photo set as I attempt to recapture an iconic era when a young Elvis Presley rendered hope to inspire a Rock n’ Roll music revolution that continues on to this day. 

“It was, after the conflict, literally the hill of death; men, horses, cannon, and the debris of an army lay scattered in wild confusion.” (Union General Alvin C. Hovey describing the Battle of Vicksburg)

To many historians, it’s common knowledge that the Battle of Vicksburg, Mississippi in 1863 represented a turning point victory for the Northern Union Army in the Civil War. In this winner take-all situation, it’s been further agreed upon that General Ulysses S. Grant’s victory at Vicksburg over his Southern Confederate counterparts solidified his reputation as the commanding general who could  most capably lead his troops to end this long war. For those experts who studied the legacy of Abraham Lincoln, it’s been further reasoned that this triumph at Vicksburg provided a timely boost to Lincoln’s chances of being re- elected to a second term as President in 1864. At least these opinions prevailed when I conveyed such patriotic dogma from the textbook to my 7th and 8th grade  students as an American History teacher in South Florida back then.

But as I measured my emotions during our morning visit to the Vicksburg National Battlefield on our road trip last week, these hallowed grounds adjacent to this historic town along the Mississippi River felt so much more tragic than celebratory to me in various ways. Consider my first impression there of a landscape still scarred by unsightly craters and trenches from this bloody battle that turned pristine forest groves and fertile farm fields into  environmental wastelands. Upon turning my attention as well to so many monuments erected along our drive along the sixteen mile battlefield road, I became sorrowfully reminded by each of these heroic dedications that over thirty thousand soldiers combined on both sides tragically lost their lives at Vicksburg. Furthermore, as I stood along Vicksburg’s cliffs overlooking the peacefully flowing Mississippi River basin to conclude our tour, disturbing images arose in my mind of that nightmarish scene of river passing gunboats like the USS Cairo shown below being sunk unmercifully by underwater torpedos and cliffside bombs during the course of the battle.

Thus it seems fitting that I recall feeling negative vibes by the distinct chill existing in the air accompanied by some unaccustomed dead silence at Vicksburg that morning of our visit. For such heightened sensations seemed to set an ominous tone to feel the mass lonelinesses, desperation and despair that once took place at this famous Civil War battle scene. So allow me to set the stage in the following photos from our road trip visit that history should record Vicksburg as more accurately a “Pyrrhic victory” toward inhumanity’s creation.

“The gentle rose offers a powerful joy known only to the heart.” (Andrew Pacholyk)

During our past road trip travels, I’ve often noticed how the state of Texas often goes boldly big in showcasing its prominent history and distinctive cultural ways. That list would of course include: (1) the “Wild West” allure of its vast open prairie, (2) its fervent gun toting ways, (3) those densely populated  urban giants of Houston, Dallas, San Antonio, and El Paso, (4) a strong legacy of winning football teams and (5) the seemingly endless construction of underground mining shafts devoted to oil and other kinds of petroleum products throughout the desolate expanses of  America’s second largest state.

So it’s no surprise that during our latest road trip, I must add the sweet sights and scents of a rose to my Texas obsession with “bigger than others” attention. For during our recent visit to the Rose Garden Center in Tyler, Texas, Ruth and I discovered in early afternoon Friday the reputedly largest public collection of roses in the United States, occupying over 2,000 bushes of 500 different varieties along its 14 acre site. Know then that we faced a relatively tight time schedule to reach our upcoming Dallas vicinity destination, so we decided it best for this latest excursion to avoid as much as possible the stifling Texas afternoon heat. Thus, we would spend the bulk of our time there along a shaded “Camellia Garden” and nearby densely arranged array of colorful rose blooms innovatively titled “The Idea Garden.”

After a short  rest overlooking a rock lined pond area called the “Meditation Garden”, we would allot limited time to then sample the more sunny interior portions of the Tyler Rose Garden.This vicinity fittingly known as “The Maze” would require us to zig-zag somewhat haphazardly amid several rows of modern rose plantings of various sizes, shapes, and colors. So I invite you to open your heart by feeling the Texas joy of bigness in this awesome display of roses in the following photo collection.

“ In reality, you don’t ever change the hurricane. You just learn to stay out of its path.” ( Jody Picoult)

I’ve lived in South Florida for over fifty years and thus have faced plenty of stress-filled moments as the annual onset of hurricane season occurs. I might say in oddly casual fashion that I’ve often faced such rain and wind filled disasters as restful retreats from life’s normality of work day stress before, during, and after they occur. But let’s face facts. For as many hurricanes become stronger and larger these days and as I grow older, I seem less tolerant of likely electrical power outages, gas and food shortages, as well as flooded city streets accompanying each close by landfall.

So let’s consider my most current logic of road tripping as the best solution to deal with the likely catastrophic result of monster sized Hurricane Ian as it tracks toward the southwest coast of Florida in the next two days. For an opportunity now presented itself for Ruth and I to escape northward from Fort Lauderdale on our Colorado bound adventures two days earlier than intended to hopefully veer away from this impending storm.

Thus, I envisioned myself thinking critically in chess game fashion so to speak with Ian as I strategized our first day route based on “Weather Channel” forecasts about when and where the hurricane’s landfall near Tampa would likely occur. Know then we slowly made our way up heavily congested Florida Turnpike and Interstate 75 followed by a more leisurely westerly jog along U.S. 27 to reach our first destination of Tallahassee today.

Perhaps then you might gain a greater sense in the following photo set from our recent travels about how “Killer” Hurricane Ian packing winds of over 150 miles per hour will likely come ashore along the Florida coast in such destructive fashion Thankfully, we’re away from such chaos as we head tomorrow for Vicksburg, Mississippi.

“ I deny the fact that when I kill time, time is actually killing me.” (Eric Gamalinda )

I often find that “killing time” productively combined with some timely, “small talk” effort provides a nice combination for experiencing new places in road trip travel. For while I tend to stoically dawdle and thus prefer to slowly feel my way around, my wife Ruth normally takes up the slack by becoming the bold social conversationalist with strangers during these uncertain location times. But in spite of our contradictory styles of travel behavior, we both seem to live our lives in the present in doing what we do best for our travels.

Let’s imagine, for example, how we might typically allot our time during a brief morning walk along a lesser visited hiking route we’ve chosen to explore along the Grand Canyon of Arizona. For as we trek perilously close to the South Rim chasm, I might be stopping frequently to study my trail map or take photos of these unfolding cliffs. However, my wife might be finding it more satisfying at the same time to embrace friendly chats with a passing hiker to lessen current tensions about any uncertain conditions on the trail we might face ahead. To further illustrate, while I need to allot hours at night to write my blog in privacy when we stay with out- of – state friends, Ruth’s friendly chit chats with our hosts after dinner usually reduces the pressure for me to make an appearance to socially perform.

Am I totally satisfied then with my existing ways of “killing time” slowly in travel? Probably not I would say from an emotional health perspective. For I might give a greater effort to “lighten up” and embrace the value of certain social situations. “Shoot the breeze” with strangers more around common interests and I might take some some pressure off myself to obsess on my perfectionist ways. Spend more quality time in addition with our travel hosts during those daily rituals of social eating situations, and I might further reduce my self imposed stress of slow paced road trip travel.

So let’s consider the travel photo set below that showcase some of our latest American settings for killing time” slowly in travel. What subjects might I bring up in idle chatter in each of these situations to experiment with “opening up” more with people? Furthermore, in doing so, will I be able to retain that high level of “now” sensory awareness that I so desire? Perhaps I will experience ample time to change my self- dawdling ways on our next road trip as we head out to Colorado on a one month journey soon. I invite you to take a look at our upcoming itinerary in the title photo of this blog.

“Although we are capable of great acts of kindness, history teaches us that we sometimes need saving from ourselves — from our recklessness or our greed.” (Queen Elizabeth II)

I am deeply saddened by the sudden death of Queen Elizabeth II last week, marking the end of her seventy year realm as the most recent monarch leader of the United Kingdom. Know that as with most tragic deaths of “larger than life heroes” that have happened during my lifetime, the queen’s death marks for me again an occasion of deep personal reflection. So I’ve often read that public opinions of the long lived British royal system is often framed with lies, gossip and scandal. Yet might I best counteract such negativism about the “Crown” in recent years by understanding how Elizabeth’s quietly benevolent presence for so long provided a stable beacon of hope to spread kind goodwill toward all she met amid so many world crises. So in fact, she’d made time during her reign to engage in friendly, face to face conversation with thirteen out of the last fourteen sitting U.S. presidents. Maintaining her dutiful commitment to promote such peace and shared value understanding with America during troublesome political times, Queen Elizabeth graciously hosted President Biden in the last year for informal tea chats as well. 

Thus in the spirit of spreading nice news today, you might observe that I’ve become inspired in the following travel photo set, taken on our adventures around the world, to feel a heavy dose of kindness myself. I notice then how these images of unselfish giving rather than self centered taking set a positive tone for how to engage with friends, family, strangers and “Mother Nature” in my life again. So as I hopefully exit from COVID’s long isolation period from others, I’m more conscious now of the need to flash a warm smile or say a hearty hello in greeting others as Elizabeth often did when spreading her iconic legacy of hospitable kindness.

“ The best dreams happen when you are awake.” (Cherie Gilderbloom)

Do you ever wonder how one’s dreams in deep sleep feel wondrously real at pivotal moments in life? For if such a subconscious mindset persists over time, doesn’t one need to take some kind of logical followup action? Thus, it’s been been no surprise that I’ve been spending much of my idle leisure time in August going through my more than 19,000 travel photos, looking for what I’ve missed the most in travel during these severely COVID impacted years. Surely, I’m proud that we’ve spent the bulk of our vacation time healthily completing long distance road trips on at least six occasions across the United States from 2020 -2022. Yet it seems significant as well that I’ve been dreaming each night that those accustomed cruise adventures and independent jaunts from country to country appear notably absent during that same COVID period.

So in the photo set below, I’m displaying a series of our past travel images that put some action ideas in my head to follow my dreamscape. For we anticipate that soon we will no longer be limited by this strictly domestic travel agenda. In this regard, our strong desire persists to re-discover that slower pace of self guided touring out of our country unburdened by long distance drives and tight scheduled road trip movements. Spend aimless “quality time”with old friends. Wait patiently for a “Eurail” train to arrive. Take a pleasant walk to nowhere. Engage in curious conversation with a local stranger. Take a window shop stroll to observe unusual artwork. Watch falling leaves on a park bench. Amble along a cobblestone street. Lounge lazily by the open water on a sunny cruise deck. All of these spontaneous travel activities I recognize as pleasing restorative change for us in these hopefully post COVID times.