Hi ladies,

First, welcome to Glacier. Looks like you're a new member. You'll like BWS -- lots of great women.

What to keep in, what to take out... Let me get back to Nancy's earlier question about favorite people or places, then answer Glacier and unique's questions. (And unique, I'm psyched to hear you're planning a similar trip. "Ribbons" could be a wonderful blueprint for you to help in your travel planning.)

Nancy, the places that touched us most deeply were the small places. The quiet, hidden, overlooked places where Americans live and work and go to church and raise their kids and welcome you among them when you visit. Let me insert a short excerpt from the book here. (I'll probably do that from time to time during the month, as it's a good way to answer many of your questions, and it gives you a taste of the writing style you'll find between the book's covers.) It gives a quick but by no means exhaustive list of some of the places we truly loved:

As the woodsy, rural inland towns began to blend together into a straight, monotonous chain – Ewen, Bruce Crossing, Sidnaw, Champion (which distinguished itself as the “Horse-Pulling Capital of the U.P.”), Humboldt, where we passed a billboard for Da Yoopers Tourist Trap (miles and miles elapsing until I equated Yoopers with U.P.’ers), we came to Marquette, one of the most beautiful small American cities I have ever seen.

For 9,900 miles, I’d been keeping a list in my head. A list of communities I held as special. These towns had, for different reasons and in different ways, especially touched me. When I thought of them, I smiled from the inside out, and that’s what they had in common. New River Gorge, Lexington, Memphis, Natchez, New Orleans, Santa Rosa, Acoma, Santa Fe, Bluff, Lee Vining, Fort Bragg, Bend, Boise, Red Lodge, Sundance, Belvedere, Duluth, Ashland.

I added Marquette, Michigan to the list. She sat on hills above Superior, her old neighborhoods collections of trim, fresh-painted, wooden workingman houses set amongst mature trees, streets undulating up or down depending on one’s orientation to the lakeshore. Her downtown was a wonder of fire-red stone and brick.

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Again, the small places were the most precious treasures on our discovery of America.

As for special people, there were many. Among them: Two Natchez, Mississippi fishermen who gave the kids a catfish lesson; Joey, a wizened Cajun who brought us through the Louisiana bayou and took us up close and personal with a fleet of gators (unique, there's a boat ride for you! Munson's Swamp Tours in Schriever, Louisiana. On my book website, www.LoriHein.com, you'll find an excerpt that introduces you to Joey, Munson's and life in Cajun sugarcane country); the daredevil, teenage cowboys and cowgirls of Sundance, Wyoming who galloped their hearts out at the Crook County Rodeo and displayed their ribbons and trophies on the hoods and open beds of their parents' pickup trucks (you can meet them in an excerpt at my website, too. Sundance was a place where mamas definitely let their babies grow up to be cowboys!); a twentysomething young man from Ishpeming, Michigan with yellow spiked hair and blue-tinted glasses who sat in his trunk next to three-foot-tall stereo speakers and taught me all about the decline of the Rust Belt's iron ore industry and explained the workings of the now unused but hauntingly beautiful oredock that soared over the harbor as we talked; Susan, a motel owner in Alpena, Michigan, who lived in a turquoise concrete bunker smack on Lake Huron and wore wildly colorful clothes. She loved my kids, and gave us the room closest to the beach. And tiny Trey, whom we met on the Fourth of July on Avery Island, Louisiana. Another excerpt:

On the 4th of July, we found ourselves at Avery Island, home of McIlhenny’s Tabasco Sauce factory. Being a holiday, the factory was closed, and the workers had a day off to crab.

We hung at the dock outside McIlhenny’s with 2-year old Trey, his mom Tracy, dad Doug, his grandma, and his “nanonk,” Uncle Travis. (I wondered if nanonk owned Nonk’s Car Repair back up Route 329 in Rynela, near the trailer of the lady that advertised “Professional Ironing.”)

Trey, in his little jeans and bright red rubber Wellingtons, held his hands on both sides of his head and, with eyes wide as plates, told me about what was “in there.” Turkey necks tied to strings and weighed down with washers were the bait of choice of all the crabbers on the dock, and a four-foot gator had decided to come and help himself. He’d just been shooed away and waited on the other side of the canal.

Trey had his own cooler filled with crabs. His parents had a second cooler, so full that when they opened it, crabs spilled out. Tracy and grandma sat on chairs under striped umbrellas and tried to keep Trey from climbing the dock’s fence. Nanonk said, “If’n you fall in, I ain’t goin’ in after ya. Gonna let the gator git ya.”

That night would be America’s first 4th of July night since September 11. All through Louisiana we’d seen evidence that people planned to celebrate with spirit. Fireworks stands were busy. But there’d be caution, too. I’d seen a Times-Picayune story titled “United We Plan” about security measures to protect celebrations large and small around the country. Americans would be out on Independence Day, but with their guard up.

We stood on the balcony of our Bossier City motel and watched fireworks from Shreveport, just across the Red River. Inside the room, James Taylor and Ray Charles entertained on TV from New York City, and two giant crickets tried, unsuccessfully, to elude me.

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Oops, almost time to go pick up my son from track practice. I'll be back later with more on what, if anything, I'd do differently, and where, if anywhere, I'd avoid...

Gotta jump in the minivan (that would be New Paint, the trusty vehicle you'll meet in "Ribbons." "We were four travelers, three with legs, one with wheels...")

Lori

Lori, I would love to go traveling with you and I will when I get your book.
Until the age of 25, I had never lived farther than eight miles from the place that had been in my family since the 1830's. I had never traveled beyond the state line except for a short car trip once as a child.
At 25, I moved 700 miles away then 700 miles farther and I made my first airplane trip. I was hooked.
Since then I have traveled all over the U.S., to several foreign countries and once all the way around the world.
As a part of my job in D.C. I visited the Navajo and many other reservations. I grew up Indian, but it was interesting to learn that each tribe is so different.
I drove my kids cross country to visit my parents often and it was a wonderful experience for us.
Since then I've traveled by car, boat(ship), plane and train. I'm convinced the U.S. is the best and most diverse place to travel and live.
How did you perceive the people in different foreign countries? Isn't France a trip? The people were kind of rotten, but I loved them anyway. A lady in an exclusive store forced me to wear her shoes because I bought an outfit and she couldnt' stand to have me wear my tennis shoes with her design even across the street to the hotel.
Thanks for the memories. Gee, I want to go again.
smile

[ May 02, 2005, 07:20 PM: Message edited by: smilinize ]

Lori, do you think the trip was as meanigful for your children as it was for you?

Have they written or spoken about their trip in school?

Wow, smilinize! It sounds like you could write your own book! I'm particularly intrigued by the fact that once you went "all the way around the world." Tell me more about that!

I had to laugh at your France-tennis shoes anecdote. I can absolutely picture that happening. Parisians do have a somewhat inflated view of their little slice of the world. I found, though, that their willingness to meet me at least halfway increased in direct proportion to the increase in my fluency in French. The better I spoke their language, the kinder they treated me. I also noticed that the mildly irritating haughty attitude ends at the Paris city limits. I've traveled to many other parts of France, including Brittany and Normandy in the north and Provence and the Cote d'Azur in the south, and the people, while quiet and reserved, were lovely, welcoming and gracious. Paris is a phenomenon unto itself. Take it with a grain of salt and a dash of humor.

Generally, I've found in my travels that there are more things that unite people than divide them. It's extraordinary to absorb and experience the rich cultural differences that exist around the world, but at bottom, people are people, and travel teaches you that we're all in this together. That lesson is the main reason why I've made vagabonding part of my kids' lives. Travel has helped them develop into curious, empathetic teenagers who have zero tolerance for racism or any other-ism. I'm proud of them.

My son just returned from a high school trip to Greece. (If you cruise the March archives in my blog, http://RibbonsofHighway.blogspot.com , you'll find 10 fun posts about places they visited.) In a newspaper article I wrote about the trip, I used a quote from one of the kids' Greek guides. A student asked the guide how the Greeks felt about the war in Iraq. Her answer: "The more you travel, the more you realize that the things that are important to you are the things that are important to everyone. You know what we care about in Greece? We care about our families, our homes, our country, our religion. And we don't want to lose our young men."

It sounds like you've had an interesting life so far, smilinize. What is your Indian heritage? On our trip across America, I made it a point to include many Native American areas and communities in our journey. A trip that ignored the lives, traditions and heritage of the country's first people would be an incomplete picture of this nation. We spent time absorbing as much as we could of Indian cultures like the Navajo, the Jicarilla Apache, the great Acoma pueblo community at Acoma Sky City in New Mexico, the Pojoaque, Tesuque and San Ildefonso who live near Santa Fe, the Sioux in South Dakota and around Devil's Tower in Wyoming, the Crow near Little Bighorn in Montana, Wisconsin's Chippewa, who harvest wild rice that grows along the shores of the Great Lakes, the Seneca Nation in western New York.

Yes, smilinize, you got it right when you said "the U.S. is the best and most diverse place to travel and live." It is amazing.

Talk to you all later,
Lori

Yes, Dotsie, I think our journey had meaning for my kids on a number of levels beyond the most obvious -- they traveled across America and saw amazing stuff...

At the time of our journey, Adam was 13 and my daughter, Dana was 10. Those were perfect ages for a long trip like this. They were old enough to appreciate most of what they saw and did, old enough to be low maintenance for me, but young enough to still have that open, communicative, emotions-on-the-sleeve mindset that flowers just before life pushes them temporarily into the quieter, tighter, introspective, self-conscious world of full-blown teenagerhood. In short, we had a blast together, and we truly bonded. It was an experience and an opportunity we were truly blessed to have.

On another level, the timing of our trip was important and meaningful. The reason for our journey was to get out into the land after September 11 and make sure that the country was alright. That was the impetus that set our journey in motion. We had a mission: to make sure that America and its people were strong and okay. Well, they were and still are, and my kids saw that first-hand as we traveled the nation and met its people. They came home confident in the fact that despite a horrible and unfortunate change in the way the world works, their country was in the good hands of her millions of proud, positive, hard-working people. They will, I know, always have that knowledge to fall back on, and it will help them navigate the sometimes threatening waters of the world they'll inherit. I remember a day when we cruised a high-altitude ribbon of Wyoming asphalt with a brigade of free-spirited bikers headed for the monster biker rally held each summer in Sturgis, South Dakota. The sky was brilliant blue, and the sun lit up the forest, mountains and chrome rims of the hundred moving motorcycles. John Mellencamp came on the radio wailing "Pink Houses," telling us that 'America was somethin' to see, baby,' and Lynard Skynard belted out "Free Bird." I looked at the kids and said some words about liberty, about being free. They knew what I meant, and they knew it was important. In the book, that moment came out as, "Take that, Osama. You're in a cave, and we're rolling through Wyoming. Plot if you like, but we're moving and doing and smiling at the sound of good rock and roll and the sweet feel of Rocky Mountain breeze lifting our hair and moving coolly over arms. Boundless beauty, freedom, adventure, possibility. These are ours. We're free birds."

The kids' appreciation for the magnitude and wonder of our journey also increased as "Ribbons of Highway" began to take shape. It took me six months to write the book, and Adam and Dana were part of my editorial team. They watched the words unfold and become an organic thing, a flowing record of a journey that they were at the center of. It was a magical process for all of us. When the first galley was delivered to the house, we all held the finished book in wonder. They are as much a part of the book as I am, and it is a gift that we share, something that will always bind us. They are very proud of "Ribbons," and they talk about it a lot -- in school, to their friends and their friends' parents. They're minor celebrities in town because of it, and they understand why people are intrigued or inspired by what they did. They've been asked to sign copies of the book, and I can see them swell with pride whenever that happens.

Two meaningful journeys, then, that my kids and I have shared and continue to share: the physical journey and the journey to give life to "our" book. Incredibly fulfilling and wondrous.

Lori
I have written about my travels, sort of. I wrote a novel about a middle aged divorcee stranded in California who employs a young man to teach her to drive her ex-husband's classic Jaguar convertible. As they travel across the country she learns about freedom and love.

Around the world was spectacular. Left from the East Coast where one daughter was in college and came back to the West coast where the other was being a hippie. I once went on a cruise and it was okay, but the confinement was kind of nerve wracking for me.

I had never compared Paris with the rest of France, but you're right. I still liked the rotten Parisians best though. They made me laugh.

I have visited most of the tribes you mentioned, but I am Cherokee. The Cherokees have integrated with the European so much that our settlements are almost indistinguishable. We are united by our history.

I liked Japan a lot. Went to a Budhist Temple and a tea ceremony in the most beautiful garden I've ever seen. Never made it to Greece. It sounds great though.

I once drove along the U.S.-Mexico border. Boy that was exciting. Weird sceneryt and men with Uzis everywhere. Whew....

You're making me want to travel again. Gotta' get your book.
smile

Lori-- I just wanted to welcome you as this month's Featured Writer. Your book sounds wonderful, and I'm enjoying your entries.

I, too, am an avid traveler and been all over the world, both with my family and with my (former) students. In the late 90's one other teacher and I took 12 high school students on a literary/historic tour of Greece & Turkey. We sailed through the Aegean reading the Iliad! A heavenly experience to say the least. We also performed the play Trojan Women for the passengers and crew. Very cool!! I love traveling with young people and seeing their eyes light up with wonder as they learn foreign customs and discover new places.

How wonderful for the rest of us that you had the inspiration to write about your experiences!

P.S. I was in Boston along with the rain this past weekend. I almost attended a friend's daughter's track meet. Wonder if it was the same one as your son's.

Hi Lori,
I'm taking you up on your open invitation. Here I am. I'm not a big or world wide traveler, but I love going away. I've also written about my limited travels. When I started getting published in the newspaper, it was with travel stories. I wrote for the Day Tripper column. I eventually graduated to feature and travel stories. I love to go to the White Mountains of NH and the coast of Maine. I've written about them and I wrote a couple of stories about VT and one about a place called Castle in the Clouds in Moultonboro, NH.

My husband and I are Disney Vacation Club members and we travel to Disneyworld twice a year. (Going in less than two weeks ) It's our favorite place. Last year, we went to Vegas. I absolutely loved it. The only place out of the US I've been is Canada. I've been to Niagara Falls a couple of times and we went to Montreal two summers ago.

I'm looking forward to chatting with you about writing.

Louisa

OK, back to Glacier's question (what would I change or do differently or what do I wish we'd seen but didn't) and to unique's (anything "yicky" that she might want to avoid on her own upcoming road trip).

I would have loved to have spent more time in Idaho, Montana, the northern California coast near Mendocino and the Oregon coast. These were exceptionally beautiful areas. But, on any trip, you have to resign yourself to the fact that you simply cannot see or do everything. The beauty of that, of course, is there's plenty more for the next trip! I was driving about 300 miles a day on our journey on roads chosen for this trip, and I'd look down other roads, knowing there were 300 different miles to be had by taking any one of them. The vastness of this country is truly mind-blowing.

I included the kids in the trip planning, and we ended up, after numerous reworks, with an itinerary that gave us all what we most wanted to see. I wanted Appalachia, Cajun country, New Mexico's pueblos, Monument Valley (by itself worth a drive cross-country), California's Redwoods, the Grand Tetons and the Great Lakes. Dana, a passionate horse lover, had to see every inch of Kentucky horse country -- the Bluegrass region around Lexington. Adam wanted "car museums" (and junk food), so we hit places like the Corvette Museum in Bowling Green, Kentucky and the Route 66 Auto Museum in Santa Rosa, New Mexico. Something for everyone. It worked well.

And the parts that unique would call "yicky?" Well, the stretch around Shiprock, New Mexico near Farmington and Bloomfield was searingly hot and tedious. I'd give that a miss. And, crossing Nevada in summer was a challenge. The day we crossed southern Nevada via Rachel and the Extraterrestrial Highway was a tense day, the longest day of the trip. I breathed an audible sigh of relief when we hit the California border and started our ascent into the cool Sierras.

And, something else that dogged us during the journey -- wildfires that blazed in some seven western states. Wildfire figured prominently in our trip. Yicky? You bet. But perversely fascinating, as well. I gained new respect for the people who live with wildfire threat and especially for the wildcatters and firefighters who risk their lives and spend weeks away from home trying to protect others' lives and property.

Cheers for now,

Lori

Hello to Prill and Louisa. Thank you for the welcome. I'm enjoying this forum so much -- meeting women with interesting lives and backgrounds and great stories to share.

As I reread some of our posts last night, I found some fascinating tidbits that I'd love to hear more about. One that jumped out at me was Eagle Heart's having spent a month in a monastery in Pecos. Was this a spiritual retreat, Eagle Heart? Did you go as an individual or with a group of some kind? I'd love to hear more about your experience. I've read articles about people who've taken weeks, months or even a year to live in monasteries or other havens, and it's an intriguing notion. What prompted you to go, and what did you gain from it?

The premise of smilinize's novel sounds wonderful -- a long-distance Jaguar driving lesson as a platform for a story about freedom and love. Was the novel published? What is the title?

I, too, loved Japan and would like to return. We spent most of our time in the ancient city of Kyoto, which, nearly a thousand years ago, was the country's capital. The city is filled with Buddhist temples, and the serene, winding Pathway of Philosophy makes its way past many of them. You walk through the woods (we went in autumn, when Kyoto's trees bore leaves of crimson, gold and orange), alongside a stream, stopping at the temples and teahouses along the way. A long, peaceful meander.

Prill's been all over the world. I'd love to hear about more of your favorite places. I admire you for having taken students on trips abroad. You remind me of the teacher who led my son's recent trip to Greece. This was the 13th time she'd taken a large group of high schoolers to Europe. She does it, as I gather you did, Prill, because of how it enriches the kids. I interviewed her for a story, and like you, she talked about the metarphosis that takes place as the kids develop their "travel legs," becoming more comfortable with the foreign culture and easing into a self-confidence that lets them explore a place fully. I can imagine Homer smiling as he listened to you read the Iliad while crusing the Aegean. Heavenly, indeed. You'd probably get a kick out of the 10 Greece posts I wrote for my travel blog before the kids left for Athens. Using literature and history and lots of good links, I tried to "teach" a little something in a way they could relate to. "Of Myceane and men," "Let them eat octopus," "What's up, Acropolis?" and "Can you hear me now?" (about the theater at Epidauros.) Fun stuff like that. You'll find the posts in the March archives at http://RibbonsofHighway.blogspot.com .

Greece was one of the most physically beautiful places I've been. (The Mediterranean -- any and all parts, nooks and crannies of it, including its arms and bays and smaller seas like the Adriatic, Ionion and Aegean -- is my favorite area on earth. Eric Newby, a British travel writer, wrote a book called "On The Shores of the Mediterranean." He circumnavigated the Med's entire coastline in one long, continuous journey. I've always dreamed of one day doing the same.)

I took Adam to Turkey with me when he was six. I bought him a "Tintin in Istanbul" t-shirt, and he wore it in the Grand Bazaar. Every shopkeeper and stall owner came out to shake his hand and pinch his cheeks and give him sweets and little gifts. Istanbul was a dazzling delight, the Turkish people gracious and welcoming. When we toured Topkapi Palace, two teenage boys invited Adam to play soccer with them. While the other tourists visited the harems, I stayed outside and watched the game, and it touched me deeply.

And hello to Louisa. Congratulations on your publishing success. It sounds like you gained some early credits and experience by writing for a local newspaper. That is a wonderful way for writers to get started. I did the same and eventually became the primary features correspondent for three papers owned by the Boston Herald. I've taken a little break from that gig to focus on the book and on travel writing for magazines, but it's a nice way to gather clips and stay in touch with your community. Do you still write the Day Tripper column? I see you're from Massachusetts. You're smart to look at destinations like Castle in the Clouds, the White Mountains and the Maine coast as subjects for travel pieces. Often, the greatest destinations are those close to home -- the ones that other writers overlook -- and the ones that folks want to read about, because they're accessible and interesting. Good luck with your writing. It will be nice to chat with you more about it.

Sun's coming out, so I'm off for a quick run.

Lori