Very TIny Voyage: The Commute

Last week I gave you my thoughts about commuting and choosing how to get to work (thus engaging in the much-maligned “route talk”). This week we give you someone else’s thoughts–and, more importantly, photos–on the same topic.

ArchitectureChicago PLUS provides news, opinions, and a lot of images of, as the name would suggest, Architecture in Chicago. If that’s a topic you’re at all interested in, you should check out more of their pages. Of particular interest to me, though, was a recent post by writer Lynn Becker, who explained her new route to work and included some really striking, beautiful, and closely observed photos.

Besides just being pretty to look at, the post is a good reminder to pay attention to the everyday stuff of your life–and to mix up the everyday stuff every once in a while to help you open your eyes.

How to: Document a Trip

If you’re going to spend the time and money to take a trip, you want to hold on to it and share it. Your own memories are priceless, of course, but to augment them, there are plenty of options for documenting your experiences.

Photos

The most obvious choice. Everybody takes vacation photos, because everyone takes photos of everything these days, and shares it on Facebook and Instagram and eight million other obnoxious things. I should know–I do this. Take lots of pictures, since it doesn’t cost you anything to snap away a few more times to get it right. But also take time to look directly at the thing you’re taking pictures of. Remember to actually have the experience you’re documenting. And don’t forget to take pictures of people, including yourself. Sure, that view is great, but what you’re going to want, many years from now, is that view with you and your dad standing in front of it.

Videos

I hate videos. If there’s one thing I find more awkward than looking at pictures of myself, it’s hearing myself speak and move. I can’t believe people put up with it every day. However, they’re great for capturing some moments, like a traditional dance or the running of the bulls. Because videos tend to be longer and thus take more concentration than photos, you want to use video more sparingly, because it takes you further out of the experience for longer.

Audio

I seriously considered taking a pocket recorder on my first trip to Europe with me, and I regret not doing it to this day. I’ve never made audio recordings, but there are some things, like the sound of touts at a street market or a band wandering by your cafe table in Berlin, that I wish I could hear again, to take me back to those moments.

Journals

I’m terrible about keeping a journal on a daily basis anymore, except when I’m traveling. I like taking a little time, either at the end of the night or over breakfast the next morning, to write about what I saw and did and felt the day before. As a writer, putting pen to paper helps me process what I’ve seen and think about what it means. I don’t travel just to see monuments and eat good food; I travel to expand my life, and writing helps me bridge between the two. Also, of course, I can mine those journals later on for posts here.

Souvenirs

My mom and Brooke have already covered this topic pretty well, so I won’t rehash too much. I’m not a huge fan of buying souvenirs, primarily because I’m a minimalist cheapskate, but there a couple of items I’ve bought while traveling that I treasure and that make me happy just to look at them and remember where they came from. For me, I think the souvenir that documents the trip best isn’t the kitschy knick-knack that you saw at every stand; it’s the rare find that catches your eye with a story to go along with it, like the tiny, cramped junk shop I stumbled across while recovering from an illness in Budapest, where I found an ornately painted copper lamp. It didn’t cost much and probably wasn’t worth even that, but I remember the dim light and musty smell of that place like it was yesterday.

Scraps

I can’t think of another way to describe these, but I always save ticket stubs, brochures, transit passes, buttons, and other odds and ends that I collect on a trip. They sit in a box in my closet that I only look at when I move, but for some reason, I like to keep these bits and pieces. They don’t cost anything, and they’re tangible proof that you were somewhere else.

How do you document your travels?

How to: Travel Vicariously

So, this person whose acquaintance I have recently made is about to take off for a grand three week biking adventure through France and Spain. Because obviously he’s awesome like that and better than the average human. The question arises, when your friends are seeing and doing things you wish you could be seeing and doing but just can’t see or do right at this exact moment with them, how do you travel vicariously?

Step 1: Envy is OK.

First off, it’s envy, not jealousy–let’s be precise with our wording. Second, it’s OK to want what they have. That’s just a little extra motivation for you to save your pennies or not take that mental health day now so you can have the money and time to have your own travel fun very soon.

Step 2: But being a whiny bitch about it isn’t.

You know why they’re doing this thing now and you’re not? Because we all have priorities, and theirs is three weeks on a bike or a month in Southeast Asia or a long weekend in Miami. And yours is something else, like maybe great restaurant meals or a swanky car or paying off student loans. Everybody made their choices. Don’t fuss about it.

Step 3: Play along at home.

If they’ll have the ability and desire to access the Internet while they’re away, maybe you’ll be lucky enough to see some pictures from the road or hear from them in a quick email or status update. Check out the awesome view from their hotel. Find out what the buskers in Montreal are up to this season. Seriously, we’re all connected almost all the time now, and vacation (for better or worse) usually isn’t any different.

Step 3a: Play along at home, with a slight time delay.

Even if they’re logging off from the electronic world, see if they’d be nice enough to send you a postcard. I always send postcards from trips, usually just to the old people in my life because I think they appreciate them the most. But if I knew somebody else was actually interested in such things, I’d be psyched to send another one. Postcards are like slow-motion, long-distance bragging, and are therefore socially acceptable. They’re the best.

Step 4: Act like a polite person when they get home.

That is, ask how their trip was. Get them to tell you stories and show you pictures (or at least click through their album on FB and salivate and comment and “like” and etc.). If you’re lucky, they’ll share some insider tips that you can use the next time you’re on the road.

Burnt Lake, Mount Hood, Oregon

[Today we have a guest post by Connie Bankus. Connie is a philosophotographer (a word I made up myself!) who lives in Oregon with her husband and a million animals and mountains. You can check out more of her work at awanderingsoul.com.]

A little over a year ago my husband and I moved to Oregon. We packed up everything we owned, dodged tornadoes, and slept in tiny motels in Montana. We drove four days till we arrived at our new home.

We have hiked nearly every single weekend–sometimes two to three hikes in a weekend. We have started out with day hikes, and when we can afford it we plan on buying camping supplies and joining the Mazamas. My ultimate goal is to do the Pacific Crest Trail and to climb the mountains around here.

Like every other new arrival to Oregon, we learned we had never experienced elevation before. We shamefully bowed our heads as seventy-year-olds blew past us on the trail. After a year here we got in much better shape and have learned a couple handy tips like bringing enough water and carrying a pack that is balanced and doesn’t hurt your back. We learned about buying quality hiking boots and lacing them properly. We learned that 1.5 miles may sound short but it can come with a 3000-foot elevation climb that will kick you in the butt. We learned that even if it’s listed in a book we bought at Barnes & Noble it can still be out in the middle of nowhere and we had better come prepared. We learned that we have to earn the beautiful view and some of the best are at the end of an arduous trail.

I think the most important lesson hiking can give is that we are all guests in nature and need to extend it the same courtesy we would if we were staying at a friend’s house. We stay on the trail, preventing the damage to delicate ecosystems or causing erosion problems. We pick up trash when we can and carry out what we carry in. We pick up after our dogs and photograph flowers instead of picking them.

Here are some photos from Burnt Lake in the Mount Hood National Forest. It is a 6.8 mile round-trip hike with a 1500-foot elevation climb. More details about it can be found in 100 Hikes in Northwest Oregon and Southwest Washington by William L Sullivan. I just recently purchased a Nikon D7000 and a fancy Gitzo tripod so I could capture some of the incredible views I get to see. I love it here in Oregon and am so grateful I get to be part of this.

 

 

Photo Friday: Arenal Volcano, Costa Rica

I went to Costa Rica in January 2011 with my sister for a combo “I need to escape from the miserable cold of Chicago winter” and “I want to spend actual quality time with my only sibling” trip. I’d rate both those aspects of the trip a success. We traveled around the country for about a week, with a first stop at Arenal Volcano. For almost every moment of the time we spent around Arenal, it was clouded over. Until one afternoon…

Wait for it…

Keep waiting…

Almost there…

Ta-da!

These photos were taken from the patio of Hotel Las Colinas, which I’d recommend if you want to stay near Arenal but don’t want to spend a fortune on one of the fancy resorts. It’s a small hotel in La Fortuna with a friendly staff, tasty breakfast, and (obviously) a great view of the volcano, when the sky cooperates.

All photos in this post (c) Claire Podulka