Ode to Colorado

Fast forward five and a half months.... It is now the middle of September, and fall is upon us. Boulder has been downright chilly this month, and snowflakes have already graced the landscape at higher elevations. The aspens are leaving behind their bright greens of summer in favor of the golden yellows that, in mass, can take the breath away. Yes, the Rocky Mountains are a spectacular place of big and bold beauty. Add a touch of fall with its crisp apple-cidery goodness, and you're pretty darn close to heaven.

Too bad I'm not in Colorado to enjoy it...

These days I happen to be sweating out the still-lingering heat in Nashville, Tennessee - the new home of the Coelho family. Yup, we packed up our bags (nay, our whole house) and moved halfway across the country on a big top adventure. There are no polar bears here in the southeastern US, of course, and Darwin wouldn't be overly impressed by the Tennessee finches (I know, I know, I still owe you a posting on the Galapagos Islands...I've been sidetracked as of late). But just the same, we are setting off on an adventure of the grandest scale possible: a major life change.

When I moved to Boulder seven years ago, it was a very different sort of move. At that point in time, I was single and carefree. I managed to fit everything that I needed or wanted in my little VW beetle. I was moving to a new city, site unseen, where I knew not a soul, and it felt great! By the time I pulled into my new town, I was ready to jump in and go go go go go. Friends to make, mountains to climb, camping to enjoy...

And what happened then? My life unfolded in the most beautiful and perfect way. Even during those inevitable tarnished stages when circumstances didn't feel so perfect, I was on the ideal path for me. I look back on my time in Boulder, and I couldn't be happier that I found the carefree courage to strike out west. Over the years, I made friends in Boulder I consider as much a part of my family as my blood-kin. I met the man who, on a daily basis, far exceeds any silly childhood notions I ever had about love. And I certainly learned more about who I am and why I am on this planet than I could have anticipated. There's something about the mountains that pulled it out of me, even against my will at times.

It's very easy for me to slip into the mindset that I must pack a bag and "go somewhere" in order to be on an adventure. I'm a traveler and explorer at heart, so if I set my sights on, say, Bhutan, then I want to hop on a plane, by golly, and go trekking in Bhutan! But as I sit here pondering the last seven years of my life, I realize acutely that the real adventure happens every day. It's in the mundane details of making new friends, sharing dinner with the ones you love, jogging on a path through the woods... I may have photographs of polar bears and blue footed boobies and the Swiss Alps, but really those are just snapshots of where I've been. The real adventure can't be pasted into a photo album or uploaded onto a blog.

So here I am in Nashville, settling into a new routine, a new viewpoint. Maybe the leaves are still green here, and maybe the only reason to carry a sweater is the overblown air conditioning typical of Southern establishments, but here we are nonetheless. I'm a little sad to leave Colorado, it's true. And I'm okay with that. Colorado will always be a big piece of who I am. But Nashville is my new adventure, and I must keep in mind that my days here will add up over time to even more beauty and goodness than I can imagine. And I know this will be true if I continue to experience each day to the best of my ability. So really all I can say at this point is bring it on. Let the unfolding begin...

My Umbrella - ella - ella

Quito, Ecuador is known as the City of Eternal Spring due to its mild weather throughout the year. Though it sits at an altitude of about 10,000 feet (which, to a Coloradan, means plenty of snow), the weather in Quito is tempered due to its proximity to the equator, only 20 some odd miles away. The city boasts an incredibly lush and varied landscape with every shade of green imaginable, all tucked within towering volcanoes and snow-capped peaks. Of course, I couldn't see any of that as my flight landed at Quito's Mariscal Sucre Airport in the middle of the warm December night. Bleary-eyed and exhausted from a ridiculously long day of travel, all that mattered to me was the bed waiting at the Magic Bean Hostel.

I awoke the next morning with birds chirping and sunlight streaming through the hostel's threadbare curtains. Ahhh, another day, another dollar...in beautiful Ecuador nonetheless! This was Site Inspection number two, which meant I was on official business during this trip. My specific work order was to have a great adventure. (Have I told you how much I love my job?? Confucious was really onto something when he said, "find a job that you love, and you'll never work a day in your life." Incidentally, Natural Habitat has just been named the #1 small company to work for in Outside Magazine's 2008 survey. I'm one lucky duck, if I do say so myself!)

Okay, so there I was in Quito, the birds chirping, the sun shining, and my stomach entirely empty! I headed downstairs to the hostel's award-winning cafe for a hearty breakfast on the patio full of smiling, chatty people and the clink-clinking of silverware. I had just settled in with my book and a big cup of scrumptious coffee, pancakes on the griddle with my name on them, when Roberto, my guide for the day, walked through the gates to pick me up for a tour of Quito. After my initial confusion, it dawned on me that I had broken the cardinal rule of travel. In the prior night's exhaustion, I never changed the time on my watch! I thought I still had an hour to enjoy this tranquil setting while filling my empty belly with tasty morsels. Instead I found myself in a tizzy as I scrambled to bring my bags down, pay my bill, change my breakfast order to go, pour my coffee into a styro cup... And so began my introduction to the city of Quito, Ecuador.

I spent the next couple of days wandering through the sprawling city both alone and with a guide. As a non-Spanish-speaker in an urban center of several million, suffice it to say that I barely scratched the surface, though I found the mixture of colonial and modern with a distinct native flair very intriguing. On my third day in Quito, I met up with the group of clients with whom I would travel to the Galapagos Islands, and we all made the trek to the world famous Otavalo Market. Bright-eyed and excited as schoolchildren, we made our way through Andean countryside, soaking in the ambiance of the place.

Everything is drastic in the Highlands. Incredibly steep slopes are cultivated with virtually no grading (the natural skill and balance of these farmers must rival that of tightrope walkers); dark clouds gather around Andean peaks that rise 15,000 - 20,000 feet, creating deep shadows in constant play with the high-altitude sunlight; and the landscape changes from dry, high desert (I'm talking John-Wayne-movie sort of scenery) to lush, sweet-smelling forest in the space of 25 feet. And then, as if my feeble brain didn't have enough to process, we descended into the town of Otavalo with its bustling market that immediately overwhelmed all my five senses.

The Otavaleño Indians are well known as successful entrepreneurs, and the market alone is testament to this reputation. Money veritably flew from the wallets of tourists and locals alike in the midst of this jungle of textiles, crafts, grains, livestock, fresh food, jewelry... Meanwhile, modest Otavaleño women and men in traditional dress sat behind the overstuffed booths, chatting with friends, playing with small children, or doing detailed handwork. And it struck me that there was no "selling" going on. No merchant ever hassled me to buy her alpaca sweaters or his weavings. If I expressed interest, then and only then did the conversation begin, and a simple, "no, gracias," with a smile easily ended the exchange when it was time to move on. It was a very respectful and honorable process. In addition, it was obvious that the traditional outfits they donned were not for the benefit of tourists but rather their everyday clothing. They were not selling their culture. In fact, I actively searched the market for replicas of the intricate blouses that the women wore, and I never found any. I suspect they don't want foreigners cheapening a style that has been part of their identity since before the Incas. It was pretty refreshing, actually.

Through the years, I've noticed that the only thing I'm guaranteed when traveling is that unexpected elements will stick in my brain long term, and the typical "highlights" of a location will fade over time. I visited the Eiffel Tower at age 13, the top of which afforded incredible views of Paris, but I mostly remember the three-legged dog tied to a lightpost down below. In Florence, I spent hours wandering through the Uffizi Gallery, but the taste of that strawberry gelato from the shop around the corner is what activates my salivary glands to this day. These experiences, for whatever reason, keep me yearning for more. They are my connections to the various places I have visited.

True to form, one memory sticks out from my time in the Ecuadorian Highlands. As I wandered through the Otavalo Market, completely surrounded by the traditionally dressed locals, regional handicrafts and foods, and impossibly blue skies, a young boy spotted me and launched into Rhianna's chartbuster lyrics, "you can stand under my umb-er-ella, ella, ella..." Now, I'm pretty sure these were among the only English words this boy knew. My guess is that he had a transistor radio behind his booth tuned into an Americanized radio station from Quito. These catchy lyrics happened to be on the tip of his tongue, just waiting for the obvious presence of an American...which is where I came in. Out of pure chance, I became a player in his story, and he became a player in mine.

And that's the way it always works. There's no rhyme or reason - it just happens. But it never fails that unexpected situations like these make the biggest impact on my brain. I certainly did not head down to Ecuador expecting to hear American pop music lyrics, and much less that they would have an impact on me. But there they were, and there they remain, stuck in time as a vivid memory. And for whatever reason, it connected me to a country in which I felt very much an outsider with my blonde hair, blue eyes, and Patagonia fleece. All said and done, it was a silly little interaction that lasted less than five seconds, and I'm pretty sure that kid has no recollection of it at all. But for me, I know that I'll carry the memory of my little Otavaleño merchant with me forever...under my umbrella - ella - ella.

King of the Arctic

I first traveled to the Arctic in November of 2006. In the days leading up to my departure, I packed and repacked my L.L. Bean duffel bag more than a few times, not particularly confident in my clothing selections. Visions of fur-laden Inuits and expedition-suited explorers danced in my head as I filled that duffel with long underwear, trousers and turtlenecks. Many years ago, while kayaking in Alaska, I met a native of the Arctic who actually carried whale blubber in a small flask around his neck....just for emergencies. What was I getting myself into?

By the time I boarded the jet at the Denver airport, I was ready to be there. My first stop was in Winnipeg, so it would still be another day before we would land in Churchill, Polar Bear Capital of the World. We stayed at fancy "old money" digs in downtown Winnipeg, where we met our expedition leaders and fellow travelers. The Fort Garry is a beautiful old hotel, and Winnipeg seems to be a pretty cool city, but I was itching to get to the bears.

There was, however, one bout of serendipity while in Winnipeg that made it worth the wait. After a great night's sleep in a big, plush down bed, I decided to forego the elevator and walk the 11 or so flights down to breakfast. Around floor 5 or 6, I realized that the guy heading the other direction was an old friend from college. Cory was one of the very first people I met during orientation my freshman year, and I hadn't seen him since the day we graduated. To make the story even better, it turned out that he was one of my fellow polar bear expeditionists (insert Disney's "It's a Small World" here). I read it as a good omen for the trip ahead!

Okay, on to the bears (just a warning...longwinded storytelling runs in my family). When we landed in Churchill, there was some snow on the ground but nowhere near what I expected. It was downright balmy, in fact, compared to my expectations of the Arctic. Go figure. Anyway, we hopped right on our Tundra Buggy - sort of a fire truck meets tractor meets school bus - which was our mode of transportation while out on the Tundra. The buggies are high enough off the ground that even large polar bears can stand on hind legs, place their monstrous paws against the side of the buggy (which they do!), and the passengers inside remain a safe distance. I should add that this height advantage is most fortunate because, at a top speed of maybe 5 miles per hour, the tundra buggy is no match for the polar bear's swift and steady gait.

My first impression of the Arctic tundra can be summed up in one word: empty. This is a vast and severe place offering little to no respite, and I felt a pointed emotional void upon seeing her for the first time. That said, I grew to understand that this emptiness - both in the physical landscape and in my own emotional landscape - was actually a thing of great and elegant beauty. Even during my short stay on the tundra, my eyes grew more finely tuned to the physical subtleties that support an entire web of life, and my heart was washed in its unadorned and commanding spirit. I suppose that to say that the tundra changed me is somewhat hokey; but I can say that I came home with a new appreciation for the beauty of emptiness.

Waking to polar bears wrestling just outside of your bedroom window is pretty darn cool (just in case you ever wondered). I actually rubbed my eyes a few times that first morning on the Tundra Lodge to make sure I wasn't dreaming such a wild sight into existance. Turns out there were plenty of mind-boggling visions ahead of me, and this one was pretty tame in hindsight. The Tundra Lodge proved an unrivalled observation deck for anyone seeking out ursus maritimus. At one point, we counted 12 bears hanging around the lodge, engaged in various activities - mostly sleeping or sparring, but we also saw mama bears protecting baby bears and witnessed some very interesting adult/juvenile interactions. During our daily tundra buggy forays along the shores of the bay, we saw numerous wildlife, not the least of which were polar bears. We happened upon arctic foxes, snowy owls, willow ptarmigans, gyr falcon, arctic hare, ringed seal and ravens galore. For such a seemingly barren place, the tundra sure does provide for a wide variety of life.

I have to say that the coolest experience of my trip happened one late afternoon on the way to dinner (amazing food, by the way - pure gluttony). The Tundra Lodge is set up such that one must cross a series of open-air walkways to get from one end of the "train" to the other. These walkways are raised a good 8 to 10 feet off the ground, and they consist of two layers of thick, metal grating so that you can actually see what's going on under your feet. Likewise, the bears sometimes wander underneath the structure to see what might be going on overhead, and that's just what was occuring when I began my journey toward the dining car. A very large bear, presumably male due to his size, was meandering through the passageway when I stepped onto the walkway. We were immediately keen to each others' presence, and I dropped down onto my knees in silence. After some sniffing and puffing, Nanook of the North lifted his front paws to rest on one of the Lodge's massive tires, and settled his wide nose just on the other side of the grate from me. Utterly terrified, I made my way onto all fours and leaned my head in close. And there we were: the largest land carnivore a mere three inches away from a true lightweight. I've never felt like such a piece of meat in all my life...

For those of you who have traveled, you know that it can be difficult to put into words the full experience of a place. There are so many little pieces that create the whole, and there's really no way to share them all. In some ways, I am still processing the entire affair. In fact, I think it would be a disservice even to try to put it all into words. After all, if I could capture the reality of my time on the Arctic Tundra on a blog, then there would be no reason for you to go out there and experience it for yourself. And maybe the thought of a visit to the Arctic and its inhabitants has never even crossed your mind. Honestly, I had never considered it myself. But I can certainly tell you that the bears and their home are a beautiful, if unbelievable, sight to behold. So why are you still sitting there? The King of the Arctic is waiting.

When I returned from my polar expedition, I created a photo gallery on the Kodak Gallery website that features the flora and fauna we saw. Some of you have already seen this, but here's a link for those who have not: Churchill Photos (The photos are captioned, so be sure to check those out as you go through the snaps for some interesting tidbits.) For an insight into life on the Tundra Lodge, you can check out a slideshow on NHA's website (some of those photos are also mine). Enjoy!

A little bit of background...

Okay, so here I am, ready to share travel photos and stories, and I'm torn as to where best to begin. My trip to the Ecuadorian equator is not even a month gone, so it's definitely freshest in my mind. Somehow, though, it doesn't seem right to jump into my most recent adventure. I feel I should back up a bit and provide some foundation. Of course, the immediate problem is that most of my photos are of the glossy paper variety. We've already established that I'm slow to move with technology, and despite the digital revolution, I got my first point and shoot digital camera in 2005. Shortly thereafter I moved on to a digital SLR, so I do have a few years' worth of photos stored on my computer (which I also bought only a few years ago... but I wasn't ready to commit to a scanner, so most of my photos live in boxes). One of these days I'll convert all my hard photos to digital.

So. I think the best thing to do at this moment is to redirect you to my company's website. Last summer, my boss got a bee in his bonnet that we (staff) should all have slide shows posted on the website representing our lives and travels. So after much scrounging and sorting and scanning (on the office scanner) and cursing and rescanning, I managed to put together a slide show. It's short - I could only get about half of my photos to scan well enough to use - but it serves its purpose. So here you are, the link to my slide show: Ta da!!! Hope you enjoy it.

Site Inspections

Okay, so one of the reasons I decided to foray into this newfangled Internet phenomenon is that I want a forum through which I can share some of my travel photos and stories. As many of you know, I work for a nature travel company, and every year, I am sent to one of our destinations for "work." For my first trip with the company (November '06), I went to Canada's Hudson's Bay to commune with polar bears in the wild. A couple of weeks ago, I returned from Ecuador's Highlands and the Galapagos Islands. Not too shabby.

Around the office, we call these trips, "Site Inspections," a term which sounds much more official than they really are. Yes, there is some work involved in these dealies, but that work mostly involves taking notes, photos, checking details, etc., all while taking a really cool vacation. To boot, we get additional time off for these Site Inspections, which means we don't even have to dip into personal vacation time. Sounds pretty incredible, right? I think so.

Nearly everyone in my company has done quite a bit of traveling (in addition to their Site Inspections). I have colleagues who have lived and worked in Antarctica, hiked Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, trekked in Nepal, hitched through South America - you name the continent, we've got it covered. My next-office neighbor has even published a book on his summit hikes. I'm impressed.

I feel as though I'm a decently traveled individual, but around here, I'm actually a travel wimp. After all, I've only made it to 3 continents - one for each decade of my life. Maybe by the time I'm 70 I'll have visited them all. Sure hope so.

In the meantime, I'm pretty happy to go on my company's version of work trips. Come to think of it, I'm now due for my third Site Inspection. I wonder where in the world I'll go this time? My first choice by far is Antarctica, but I've pretty much missed this year's season and don't really want to wait until December to go on another adventure. Maybe I'll head to Machu Picchu or to see the grizzlies in Alaska? I'll keep you posted...

On Blogs...

I guess I'm slow to move when it comes to technology. I don't have a cell phone...we got cable tv only a few months ago (we still don't have a television - just a computer for watching our fancy channels)...and I didn't even know what a blog was until recently. Okay, so that's an overstatement, but I ignored the idea of blogging anyway. Mostly because I'm stubborn. But also because most of the people I know who maintain a blog also live their lives according to triathlon and training journals. Since I leave anything having to do with triathlons to my athletically talented husband, I pretty much shifted into daydream mode whenever blogs came up in conversation.

But we've just come into a brand new year, and I suppose I'm feeling a little adventuresome, so I'm going to try my hand at this thing called blogging. I don't know where it's going to take me, which, honestly, is in keeping with just about everything else that I do. But it'll be a ride, and one that I can share with friends and family, which makes it that much nicer. Whatever happens, I hope you enjoy it!

Who knows, maybe before long I'll create an Avatar and make my fortune on hyper-real estate! But I'm getting ahead of myself...