Geocaching in Ojai

When I began writing my novel (a young adult adventure set in Italy, with mythological themes; I promise I will give more details when it's complete... which will hopefully be sooner than later!), I created a character who loves geocaching. 

Had I gone geocaching before? Heavens, no. 

And so I wrote this character and I imagined what geocaching would be like... and for the most part, I think I got it right. Geocaching is an elaborate game of hide and seek, in which 'cachers hide tiny treasures and logbooks in plain sight and list their locations by longitude and latitude so that other 'cachers can find them. 

But still I wondered... what's it like?

Finally, I got my chance to try it out with an experienced geocaching guide in Ojai in December. Jimmy Harvey (whose Geocaching.com handle is badfeet) is a longtime geocacher who offers customized geocaching adventures in the Ojai Valley through the Ojai Valley Inn & Spa. Jimmy is an affable, easy-to-like guy who proves the old adage You're only as young as you feel. And with his youthful spirit and enthusiasm for nature, Jimmy could easily be an adventurous 8-year-old trapped in a gray-haired guy's body. Not only that, but Jimmy is a former Navy SeaBee and was stationed in Bermuda in the 80s - which is only one of the things we had in common (my dad was NAS Bermuda's crash captain in the mid-80s). I won't digress, but it was truly a joy to reminisce about Bermuda as well as learn a new hobby.

Geocaching can be done anywhere in the world - I can imagine that clever 'cachers can find niches and hiding spots in urban areas as easily as in the woods - but I loved being in nature and hiking among the ancient oaks and citrus trees of Ojai. Using Jimmy's sophisticated GPS to find geocaches along our hike, we found dozens of tiny and not-so-tiny caches hidden on the trail. They were in trees and bushes and under rocks and hanging from trees! Some merely required standing still and looking at a usual sight with a new perspective. Jimmy kept saying, "Okay, Erin, now stop thinking and use your geocacher's instinct." Which meant, "If you were going to hide something cleverly, where would you hide it?" Often, it meant hiding the geocache in plain sight. Several times, I was STARING AT IT and couldn't see it.

(And wow, isn't that a great metaphor for life??)

I won't divulge the secret spots - it's too much fun to find them on your own and this is a fabulous activity for kids and families - but now that I've finally tried it, I'm hooked. I cannot wait to hide a few items on my trip to Europe this summer and maybe find a few surprises, too.

On Jimmy Harvey's business card, his official title is "Retired Guy" and it says, "Nothing to do and all day to do it..." Don't ya love him already? To reach him: 1badfeet@sbcglobal.net . 

Healthy Travel Tips via Kris Carr

I love Kris Carr. If you're not familiar with this saucy green goddess, do yourself a favor and follow the hyperlink (just click on her name, why don't ya?) to her incredible website and revolution. You will thank me later, I promise you. 

Anyway, this morning I trolled her site to see what she's up to and I found a GREAT video with her tips for staying healthy while traveling.  Watch it here. In it, she talks about the healthy snack mix she takes with her on road and plane trips, essential oils, and other great tips to keep you healthy and strong when you're away from home.

I haven't been posting here as frequently as I'd like, which doesn't mean I'm not traveling, but many of my trips lately have been retreads - to San Diego and to Ojai twice and back to the magical land of Texas. However, we have a big family trip coming up in June (Barcelona and Rome), so I am gearing up with travel tips and packing how-to's. One of my very good friends recently took a whirlwind (and when I say that, I mean 3 countries, 4 cities and lots of museums and sights in a week!) spring break trek with her family and I'm dying to ask for her advice, which I'll post here.

In the meantime, what are your plans? Let me know where you're going this summer and what travel tips have worked for you!

Riding the Rails, SoCal Style

The long and winding tracks...

For years, I've wanted to ride the Amtrak Pacific Surfliner from LA to San Diego, but there's never been a reason. With three kids, strollers, car seats, luggage, frequent snack and potty breaks, weird schedules, etc., it seemed as though taking my well-stocked Suburban (our family "train") was a better choice. Now that the girls are older (ages 8 to 12), our traveling has changed to include other options.

For example, Raf has been wanting/needing some time alone to surf, sit on the waves and not talk (a rare thing in our household). When we discussed taking our kids to San Diego for Thanksgiving, it made perfect sense for him to go a day ahead with his truck and get some well-deserved surfing in.

"And," I mentioned casually, "the girls and I can take the train down and meet you..."

Waiting for our train

This turned out to be much, much easier than I expected. For one thing, with a AAA discount, the fares were super reasonable - I bought the e-tickets online for about $100 for the four of us (as I understood it - and I could be wrong - I had to buy an adult ticket for my oldest child because you can only purchase 2 child fares with 1 adult). This is about the same price as a tank and a half of gas for my Suburban, so I felt like it was a great deal. I printed out our ticket and tucked it in my purse with my wallet and was good to go. 

The train station in Ventura County was super clean, with lots of safe, free parking (but no restrooms). Our train was running about 10 minutes behind, but it was a beautiful, sunny morning on a holiday week, so everyone at the platform was in pretty decent spirits. When the train arrived, the conductor greeted us cheerfully and directed us to a 4-seater area right at the top of the stairs. The next time I go, I'll be sure to grab a seat on the EAST/NORTH side of the train in Ventura County because, after the train links up to the other cars at Union Station, it goes BACKWARDS out of L.A. and then you'll wind up on the WEST side (make sense?). 

And then, my friends, you'll have a perfect view of the gorgeous beach real estate of South Orange County, including my favorite beach town of all time: San Clemente. Surfers, swimmers, beachcombers, families BBQ-ing and picnicking under the pier-adjacent palapas... It was the next best thing to being right there on the beach... 

And all without the stress of traffic and driving. I read my Kindle, laughed with the girls, and just stared out the window. I drive so much, I'd all but forgotten the simple joys of just watching the world go by as a passenger.

I lived in Italy as a teenager and train travel is a way of life there. But in our car-obsessed society, I found a joy in traveling on the Pacific Surfliner that reminded me of the glee of riding on "California Soaring" at Disney's California Adventure. It celebrates the beauty and scenery of our state.  Truly, there is no place like home, and the Pacific Surfliner is the train equivalent of Dorothy's sparkling ruby slippers.

My girls crowding the window to take pictures of surfers at Trestles.

Pixie Delights in Ojai

image from ojaipixies.com

My favorite scent in the whole world is citrus.  I'm a rabid fan of orange blossoms, but I am also partial to the fresh sugar-citrus smell of Meyer lemon rinds, the green-grass fragrance of lemon leaves, the tart kiss of a satsuma. Blood oranges, lemonade, greyhound cocktails, lemon squares, lime-laden mojitos... I love 'em all. 

It follows, then, that one of my very most favorite places in the entire world is Ojai, just 45 minutes north of my house. Not only is it beautiful, but the valley is full of citrus trees.  Driving along Ojai Avenue, past the pin dot of the main drag, Libbey Park and the arcade, the streets become tiny thoroughfares, winding travelers through a fairy land of Pixie tangerine trees.  

The famous Ojai "pink moment"

I wanted to jump out of the car, run through the trees wildly, throw a picnic blanket on the rough ground and eat as many tangerines as I could pick with my bare hands, standing on tippy toes to reach as high up in the trees as possible.  And when I sated my citrus cravings - for the moment - I would lie on the blanket and fall asleep under the green canopy of glossy leaves, my chin and arms sticky with tangerine juice, my lap overflowing with discarded peels. 

They call Ojai "Shangri-La"... and I'm a believer.

For the record, we stayed at Ojai Valley Inn & Spa, which is a magical dream of luxury and quiet.  We ate rich Italian food at Boccali's - ask for Starlet when you go, she's a doll of a waitress.  And if you're lucky enough to find yourself with time on your hands, I'd recommend a reflective hike at Meditation Mount, on the far east side of the valley, preferably at sunset so that you can witness the majesty of the famous Ojai "pink moment." Then cap off the day with a kuyam treatment at Ojai Valley Spa.  Bliss. 

Austin-tatious

Austin is one of those cities that you can fall in love with the moment you set foot on its soil.  We arrived around 10 pm on a Friday night and the airport was all but closed up, quiet and thoughtful, with pretty painted guitars flanking its baggage carousels in a bright and large, open room (rather than a stuffy, fluorescent basement-style warren like at most airports).  The street in front of the airport was wide open, too - no taxis trying to run us down, no shuttle buses pumping smoke into the air.  It was just us, Raf and me and the kids with Raf's younger brother Sky, all basking in the full moonlight of the Austin sky as we moseyed toward the parking garage.  I almost belted out "Deep in the Heart of Texas," but I refrained.  The quiet night sky was enough for all of us.

Our hotel was on the banks of Lady Bird Lake, just a block from the main parts of Austin.  Sky stayed a block south in a hipper area of Austin, near super-cool boutiques and bars and food truck parking lots.  We went to a UT game (versus Oklahoma State), passing blocks of tailgating parties to get to the stadium, and were bowled over by the Southern hospitality; despite a strong sense of school pride and an overwhelming turnout, the stands were civil and the crowds were kind.  The pre-game show was unlike anything I'd ever seen: an enormous marching band played "Deep in the Heart of Texas" (thank you kindly) while forming a giant UT, then a special club (dedicated strictly to this simple chore) unfurled the largest Texas state flag in the world, turning it round and round on the field to wild cheers from the stands.  The opposing team was also given an opportunity to play its fight song, respectfully.  The Jumbotron at the top of the stadium played an inspiring "Go Texas" video and then a cannon fired.  An honest-to-goodness cannon, plunked there on the corner of the field, intended solely for starting the game and for celebrating each touchdown.  Amazing.

I had hoped the visit would inspire my girls as students, seeing what a big ol' university town was like, but we saw so much more.  What a fantastic chunk of America.

A chicken-and-waffle truck - Emme's dream come true.

We took pedicabs to the stadium.

Stopped at the UT store to buy burnt orange gear.

Because we played OSU - whose colors are bright orange and white, the stadium was awash in orange - couldn't really tell who was supporting which team... until the "hook 'em horns" hands came out!

Threadgill's in Austin.

Waking Up in the House of the Sun - Haleakala

Haleakala means "House of the Sun" in Hawaiian and it's the name of Maui's resident volcano and the mountain that surrounds it. When Kanoe suggested that we wake up and see the sunrise from Haleakala, I balked a little. Here's the thing: although it's on a tropical island, it's a tall, tall mountain and the temperature at the peak is much cooler than the temp at the shore.  If you go, you need to dress warmly and wake up early.  Really early.  3 am early. Therefore, not all of us went -- who wants to wear scarves and mittens on a beach holiday??  

For those of us who wanted a different kind of Maui experience, however, the lure of a magical sunrise was hard to pass up.  Armed with coffee and a map, blankets and beach towels, Kendra and took off at 3:27 am with four sleepy kids in the back. The drive is fairly long because there's no direct road from where we were staying in Kihei to Haleakala, so it took about an hour and 45 minutes to get up there.  The hairpin turns wind and twist up the mountain, and we we had to stop a few times because Emme was carsick.  Furthermore, it's hard to see what's around you because it's so dark. But the stars... in the deep black of the sky, the stars look like diamonds sprinkled on an inky canvas.  


By the time we finally parked, the faint glimmer of first light was starting to shimmer across the sky.  We found spots along the observation deck and waited behind other sleepy tourists, everyone with cameras held up to the light, waiting.


Something about the experience reminded me of yoga, especially the morning meditations that I do on retreat in Ojai, sitting cross-legged in front of a window that looks out over the Topa Topa Mountains, the red sunlight of the rising sun warming my face.  I had to get over the annoying feeling of people pushing to see past me, the loud clicks and whirrs of cameras behind and next to me, the cold of my fingers as I fumbled with my own touch screen camera.  Kanoe and I giggled about the crazy get-ups of the people around us, as well as my blanket cape and his Taliban-inspired burka.


But when I finally quieted myself down and just observed, I was struck by the movement of the clouds over the mountains.  Like the waves crashing over coral reefs ten-thousand feet down at sea level, the puffy clouds pushed themselves slowly up and over the rocky cliffs below us, changing form and disappearing and then tumbling back up again. It was spectacular and mesmerizing, something that my camera couldn't capture, either on video or in still pictures, though I took dozens of photos.

After awhile, the kids begged to get out of the cold. On the way to the car, so we stopped to snap a few more pictures.  Then, as we turned toward the parking lot, a cheer roared up from the crowds so we ran back to see what was the fuss.


The sun!  It rose, as it always has, over the horizon, over the house of the sun.  The burnished orange globe bobbed up, sizzling into the island sky, worthy of a gasp and a cheer. There it was, a reminder of newness and fresh starts and the infinite gifts of a new day. 


To say that it was worth the trouble - the suitcase real estate for jackets, the long drive up and back, the sleep deprivation, the carsickness - is an understatement. Sol invictus, the invincible sun. It shouldn't have taken a trip to Maui to see something that is there for me every day, every morning of my life.  But I'm thrilled that it did.  Now that I've been to the house of the sun, I am recharged, glowing with radiance.  


All hail Haleakala.

Bikini Beach

Nothing says summer like girls in bikinis on a beach, even though I had to get over my own thoughts to consent to buying this very special souvenir for them.  I wrote about it for my friend Christine's online mag, because writing helps me to organize my thoughts (as you know).  

Welcome to bikini beach, girlies.