Friday Gratitude

As my plane came in over the San Francisco Bay last Thursday, I thought to myself, boy am I lucky. Not only do I get paid to travel to amazing parks and cities for my job, but I also am fortunate enough to be able to afford traveling a lot on my own as well. While I haven't been out of the country all that much, I've gotten to see a whole heck of a lot of this one.

That gratitude extends back to all the family vacations we did growing up. It's funny that sometimes appreciation isn't in the moment, but once you're old enough to really see how fortunate you were. We had a two week family vacation each year. Numerous years at the Outer Banks and Hilton Head, a month-long foray to the west and to Jackson Hole twice. Ironically, probably my least favorite was our trip to Disney World - a more 'typical' family adventure. Its not that I didn't have fun or enjoy it, but I enjoyed the other trips just that much more.

I'd have to say my favorite trips, though, were the ones we took to Maine. We'd set our alarms for some unGodly hour of the morning, pack up the car and schlep the 11 or so hours it would take to get up there with a trunk full of suitcases and our bikes strapped to the bike rack. We would always stop in Freeport, however, to visit the flagship L.L. Bean store and, if we were lucky, eat at the "fancy" McDonald's there that served lobster (not that Allison or I would eat it, of course).

Then we'd head off to Southwest Harbor. I know we stayed a few places, including one that felt like it was in the middle of the woods with a woodburning stove and no TV, but my favorite was the one on the main street just past town. There was a tiny room in the loft with a bright blue fishy comforter, slanted roof, and no dressers. It had a sky light and I loved it. We also had our own dock there, with a little boat I could sometimes convince my family to go out rowing with me on. One time we went out on someone's real boat, although I can't quite remember who it was or why we were there.

More importantly, the place had air conditioning and cable. Two things our house was very much lacking. Allison and I were like pigs in slop, watching MTv and Nickelodeon to our hearts content. Salute Your Shorts was an annual favorite.

But one of my favorite memories was stopping by the Welcome Center. No matter where we ever went, if there was a Welcome Center, we knew mom would make us stop. She would gather pamphlets and maps and come back to the car armed with all sorts of adventures. At one point in Yellowstone, years later, when we were all tired from a full day and stayed in the car while Mom and Dad went for a quick 1 mile hike - Al, Kristin Horrocks, and I stole the collection of maps and wrote "Leave or the maps get it" in the dust on the exterior of the car. She was not amused. But this Welcome Center was different.

At this Welcome Center we'd pick up the NPS schedule for Acadia National Park. I've been a Junior Ranger at most parks, but I LOVED picking out which programs I wanted to do in Acadia. My favorite we did each year - a morning walk along rocks that were only exposed at low tide. I just looked on the park website and they still provide it - Tidepool School. I loved it. After a few years, I knew all the answers to the questions the Rangers would ask along the way. Each year I would lay down on my stomach on the rocks and dip my arms into the tidepools, lifting up seaweed and finding all sorts of creatures. We'd also always go to Stars over Sand Beach (armed with lots of bugspray) and the Beech Mountain Hike (which I always thought was Beach Mountain).

We'd also go up Cadillac Mountain, which my dad would crazily bike up. There were so many things we'd do each year that I loved. There was popovers at Jordon Pond and visiting Janet and Pearl in their cabin. For several Thanksgivings in a row now, my dad and I have tried to make our own popovers (or more accurately, he makes them while I look in the oven while they are baking and say, nope, not popped yet!). After several years and a variety of recipes, we finally have succeeded.

There was also this little old wooden theater that Mom and I would go to. The only play I really remember was "Ten Little Indians", based off of the book "And then there were none" by Agatha Christie. After that, I bought my first Christie novel and was hooked on Miss Marple through most of high school. And we'd always go to Bar Harbor for at least a day, although the traffic was always terrible. I much preferred staying across the island. There was one store I loved to go to. I forget the name of it, but it was a blue sign with white lettering and had a whale on it. It sold seashells and dried starfish and all that kind of stuff that I kept in empty fish tanks back home. I still have them, but they are occupied by spiders and dust out in the barn.

There was also this dinky little aquarium we could walk to from our rental. I'm not sure if it was free or if I just went there a lot, but it had this please touch tank full of sea creatures and I would stick my hands in and always play with the sea cucumber - my favorite marine animal. I could usually convince my dad to come along - there was a neat old Victorian hotel nearby that would host games of regulation croquette and we would always stand nearby and watch. It was a much more intense game than was ever played in the Byron backyard. From the deck of our rental, we could see fisherman down in the harbor hauling up lobsters from the docks. Dad would walk down and buy some straight out of the water and I'd play with them on the kitchen floor until the water was boiling.

Then there was the year the QE2 pulled into Bar Harbor. Along with the Fabers, we all got up super early and drove down to watch it pull in. Mostly Emily, Russell and I played on the rocks until it showed up, but I remember thinking how weird everyone on board was dressed - all skinny jeans and stripes before hipsters had even come into existence.

All of these memories were triggered somehow by flying in over that bay and just sitting back and being appreciative. I have little doubt that these vacations played no small part to my current career and are most likely the reason I am in the field I'm in. I don't quite know if my parents realize how much these trips shaped my life. I certainly didn't understand that not every family had these opportunities. Or that not every family ate dinner together every night and had parents who came to all of their sporting events to cheer them on. I had no idea that wasn't standard issue. These things I took for granted, and sometimes complained about, I have come to understand how fortunate I was and continue to be. And for that, I will always be grateful.