I’ve always been intrigued by wild animals.  Watching Marlin Perkins wrestle gators on “Wild Kingdom” gave me the fever to study all I could about other living species that share our turf.  Read More→

Dateline: A subfolder in my computer. I found this story written before March 12^th’s Hard Rock Picnic. This story should have come at you first! Welcome to my attention deficit!

The joys of the open road abound between Salem, South Carolina, and Lake Montezuma, Arizona.  Lake Montezuma lives near Sedona, Arizona, where you are cheerfully relieved of all your cash with the purchase of one item—especially if that purchase is in an art gallery. Read More→

My late husband, the Coog Man, loved bargains.  Our trips had to be packaged with meals, golf, and discount coupons.  The Elderhostel program with their super senior, double discount, mega meal plan is his personal favorite.  Read More→

Dateline: Leaving Alaska, Year 2000: Due to weather, our South Carolina bound plane had been downed in Memphis, Tennessee. Upon takeoff the airplane bucked under us like an unbroken mare. Daggers of lightening pierced the night sky.  The end of our Alaska land and cruise tour was turning out to be the beginning of another adventure. Read More→

As an elementary teacher I was captivated by our study of the Iditarod Sled Dog Race.  My class of third graders mapped the trail from Anchorage to Nome each year on March 1^st, the beginning day of the annual race.  We picked a “Favorite Class Musher” and followed his progress closely on the Iditarod web site.  I dreamed of traveling to “The Last Great Wilderness” one day to meet those who braved cold and ice to celebrate the history of this great race.  The diphtheria outbreak of 1925 found Alaska’s children without medicine for a cure.  Stout-hearted husky dogs endured harsh conditions to deliver the lifesaving serum to Nome.  Each year a field of more than sixty mushers and their dogs celebrate this accomplishment by traveling the same route.  I envisioned that my retirement years would include a trip to meet some of these human and canine athletes.  “I haven’t lost anything in Alaska,” my husband retorted when I posed the idea for this trip.  “I know you’ll gain something that you’re not even looking for though,” I countered.

After flying in to Anchorage we traveled to meet the Princess Cruises glass encased tour train for a trip to Denali National Park. We booked an excursion to see Jeff King, a three-time Iditarod champion, (Jeff has won more Iditarods since then.) The booking guide told us that the trips to Jeff’s kennel were full.  Devastated, I told her that I had envisioned this trip for ten years.  After a number of phone calls and a conference with my husband, she returned to say that my dream was about to become a reality.

Jeff King’s beautiful, rustic home sits adjacent to his kennel.  The majesty of the Alaska mountain range wraps the area in a blanket of blue and snow white.  His wife, Donna Gates-King is an accomplished wildlife painter.  Jeff, Donna, and their three daughters are parents to approximately seventy champion sled dogs and their offspring.  Trembling with excitement, I felt as though I was meeting a royal family.   Tiny Husky puppies wiggled out of their arms into ours.  One day, these sons and daughters of champions would lope in unison across the frozen tundra of the Yukon Coast.  “I’ve had so many dogs, naming them is a real challenge,” Jeff remarked.  “We use brand names of cameras, types of rocks, and even breakfast food names.”  It was obvious to us that Jeff had just as much love for his retired leader dogs as he did for his aspiring champions.  Each dog receives the gift of human touch and patient nurturing.  Their shiny, loving eyes regarded Jeff and his family with innocent affection.

We left the Denali area the next day by train.  Our plan was to connect with a small aircraft for a flight to Seward.  For me, flying on a commercial airliner was adventurous enough.  The turboprop that greeted us resembled a plane that I had seen hanging from the ceiling of the Smithsonian Institute.  I prodded the pilots with questions about this vintage plane.  “Well, yes ma’m she’s just been in the shop, but she seems ok,” the young pilot answered.  “Seems ok, you have to KNOW it’s ok before I’ll get on it,” I anxiously replied.  My husband ushered me onto the plane before the scene I was creating became more noticeable to others.

As we ascended, dense snow clouds enveloped our small plane.  Mt. McKinley winked at us briefly through the clouds.  Small shards of ice coated our windows.  The wings resembled a skating rink.  “Didn’t I see something like this in a movie before a big plane crash?” I asked my husband.  Squeezing my hand white, he answered, “just pray.”  Prayers for our safety swirled through my head.  Banking through clouds, we began to ride this airborne roller coaster.  The snow clouds surrounding the airplane were a reminder of the soft white cushion of peace that God was trying to spread beneath my heart.  I had traveled thousands of miles and He had removed countless obstacles to help me live a dream. Emerging from the  clouds, the young pilot approached the ice covered runway. The stewardess directed us to put our heads in our laps and cover our heads, while she assumed the same position (that’s scary!) After a little sliding he eased the plane to a stop with the precision of a veteran. God was again showing me that His love would carry me safely to my destination.   The motor coach awaiting us looked so precious it could have been etched with diamonds.  The jewels of my Father’s love were waiting to guide me to safety.

Bill and Friend Jeff King’s Goose Lake Kennel, Denali National Park, Alaska

View from our room Sol Melia Resort aka Ivana's side

Our last day was spent lounging by the pool and saying goodbye to Ulysses the towel guy. He was such an important part of our trip I nominated him as the best employee on the resort. I gave honorable mention to Hernando, the shuttle guy, and Daniel, the desk clerk.  Read More→

La Perla, the tarnished pearl of San Juan, aerial view

Dateline: Friday, July 15, 2011, Old San Juan PR– (Daughter)Stephanie McMann at the wheel–(Son) Mike Massey navigator

Finally, we were going to see Old San Juan, at least part of us. The Rick Cooglers had taken off in exploration of underground caverns, and the Billy Cooglers, relaxed by the pool. My son-in-law Clay stayed behind nursing his back after a day on horseback.

The remnant army of Nana (that’s me), Stephen, Joy, and Faith McMann, Stephanie and Mike set out to explore the old forts of San Juan. Nelson, my Puerto Rican PT, had given me warnings about where not to park and the direction to walk. Nelson had been forbidden as a child to ever enter the neighborhood of La Perla (English:the pearl). Read More→

Since my family comes from a long line of big eaters, food was a major subject on our Puerto Rico Trip. When I go on a trip. I don’t want to eat at KFC or Burger King unless I’m in a huge rush.  We did eat at many of Puerto Rico’s ‘food thingies’ as I mentioned in my first post, see (The Jeweled Isle). Most of the food looked American, but with a different flavor.  I’ve never liked just to eat a raw banana, the glob nature of it sticks in my throat. But I do love food that’s made from bananas: banana nut bread, banana popsicles, and smooth banana pudding, no globs!  I did eat one Puerto Rican banana, they are small and cute. Read More→

Dateline: March 15, 2011 – Salem, SC– Thumbing through the RCI Catalog on my bed

“Hmmm, we want to fly or sail into San Juan, since we can’t walk.  Looking at a map frame of the island, there’s a group of resorts in the Carolina sector of the island. ”

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Looking toward the El Morro Lighthouse from Cementario de San Juan

After nearly five months of planning, our family trip to Puerto Rico was becoming a reality. The sweat and bother of packing, waiting in a security line, and no airline food service, was soon to be a memory.

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