Category Archives: travel

Harness Your Fears

10363671_10209350480986849_8881949637113864818_nThe Adventure-etts recently went on another road trip. We went ziplining, y’all. Got a bird’s eye view of surrounding mountains, meadows, and canyons, even, zipped above a small waterfall. Had to do a lot of mountain and cliff climbing, but after getting air back into our lungs, we zipped across ten separate ziplines. It was a blast!

What about my fear of heights, you asked? Well, I harnessed my fears! On the first try (after three steps forward and two back), my eyes focused straight ahead, as I walked off the plank and went over and zippidy-do-da across!

I felt exhilarated. After the third zipline, I was able to look down at the view.

The girls and I had a great time.

Would I do it again? Heck yeah! Would love to go with my grandson next.

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Me and my girls: Judy, Deborah, & LeAnn

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Boarding the Humvee

FullSizeRender (88)

All aboard!

FullSizeRender (91)

Zippity-Do-Da

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We harnessed our fears!

Some things I refuse to do, but there are some things I’m willing to experience. More adventures to come with the Adventure-etts.

“What is life but one grand adventure?”

Previous excursion – Rise to the Occasion

© M.A. Pérez 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

 

7 Comments

March 19, 2016 · 10:31 PM

Rise to the Occasion

Bucket list. I imagined I would. Some day. Always wanted to. But never really thought I’d actually go through with it.

My posse and I

I’ve been away on a mini-vacation, a road trip to San Marcus and to San Antonio. Not only did I go, but I went on this excursion with some great gal friends of mine. Overall, it was an exhilarating ride!

I learned a few things on this trip.

I learned that if you put your mind to a thing, you can fulfill a task (if you plan ahead). I knew that schedules don’t always go according to plan. You may come across a few bumps and potholes along the way, and the winding roads of life may take a bit longer to get to your destination. And I learned that I don’t always perform well in these situations. (Ahem.)

You see, my expectations may be to do thus and so, and once my mind is made up, I am in a wee bit of a hurry to get there. But I also learned that it’s best to stop and smell the roses and make every second count. Because if you don’t, you’ll regret not doing better when you could have. I learned (and I sometimes forget) to choose my battles, and not all hiccups mean the end of the world! I learned that making each moment count is what makes every memory cherished. I learned that, despite my strengths, I still have weaknesses that need improvement. Egads! I learned that growing older doesn’t necessarily mean you stop learning. I learned that no matter what, there is always something to be grateful for. And I learn (sort of already knew) that I have the bestest of friends! We love and accept one another–flaws and all–and if feeling down, we lift the other up!

So what did we do, you ask? You mean besides the driving, shopping, dining, visiting my in-laws, and shopping some more?

We went Up, Up and Away in My Beautiful Balloon! 

Now, those who know me know that I have acrophobia (not to be confused with arachnophobia, which I also happen to have, but that’s another topic). Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have a fear of heights. Or is it a fear of falling? Either way, I tend to get the heebie-jeebies. I discovered I wasn’t the only one among us determined to face this fear. And so, face it, we did; we rose to the occasion. In fact, I was so busy taking photos on my phone that I didn’t have much time for that nervousness to take over.

Before takeoff, once the pilot said to hop in, we (about fifteen total in all) scrambled up inside that basket (with a bit of assistance from the crew), albeit somewhat clumsily, with one of our legs unable to lower from the ledge of the basket down in our tight space. So much for dignity.

To Deborah, Judy, and my new friend, LeAnn: Thanks for the memories. What’s next?

For your enjoyment, here are a few photos of our adventure.

Deborah & Judy

Deborah & Judy

 

LeAnn and myself

LeAnn and myself

Just about ready for takeoff.

 

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All for one and one for all!

Up, up, and away!

Up, up, and away!

 

3100 feet up

The Adventure-etts: 3100 feet up!

 

Beautiful Sunset

Beautiful Sunset

© M.A. Pérez 2016, All Rights Reserved

Your life is like a balloon…if you never let yourself go, you will never know how far you can rise.

15 Comments

January 16, 2016 · 9:10 PM

My Colorado’s Bicentennial (Mis)Adventure

July 31, 1976

Have you ever experienced a what if? Ever been dangerously close to a hazardous situation, to realize just how fortunate you were to have escaped, only to have it gnaw at you later?

Today, as I celebrate this Independence Day, my mind goes back to a moment in time I shall never forget.

We headed for Colorado’s Rocky Mountain State Park for a continued weekend bicentennial celebration, to enjoy the magnificent canyons’ cool mountain air and breathtaking river valleys.

LovelandPassCO

Loveland Pass, CO, looking east from the summit. Courtesy of Wikipedia.

The afternoon breeze mingled with the whiff of hamburgers sizzling on the pit, putting our troubles behind us. Don was in good spirits, along with an ample supply of his favorite beverage. He drank one after another, as he rehashed old childhood and war stories. I roasted marshmallows over the campfire until raindrops drove us inside our van. We tucked in for the night in our sleeping bags.

In no time, Don’s snoring commenced. As my eyelids grew heavy, I thought, at least I’m not out in this wilderness alone.

Sometime later, I awoke with a start, “Donny! Donny, wake up!”

“Hmmm?” my still-asleep, great protector mumbled, turning over.

I sat up and held my breath. I felt the van vibrate. The plunking sound of raindrops rattled across the rooftop, lashing at the van’s exterior. I strained to listen for something else, feel something else, but wasn’t sure what.

Only a case of bad nerves, I reasoned, starting to lie back down. No! There it is again.

“Donny, did you feel that? Our whole van shook!”

“Go back to sleep, gal,” Donny muttered. “It’s probably just a bear.”

Just a bear? Better not be any bear out there!

Minutes passed. I lay back down and willed my body to relax. The sound of rain soon lulled my unsettled thoughts, and sleep overtook me. Before nodding off, I thought I heard rumbling in the distance.

Dusk turned to dawn, and I considered my night’s fright silly. We ate a quick breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, leftover meat, and orange juice.

“Shake a leg,” Donny announced. “Time to go.”

We left our campsite cruising over mucky roads. Puddles and slushy trails made the roads treacherous and tricky. At one point, our van was stuck in the mud. Donny kept his foot over the gas pedal and accelerated. The tires sloshed and the van swirled, nearly tipping over.

“Jesus!” I cried out, thinking we were history.

Unruffled under pressure, Donny turned the wheel sharply to the right and back on the road again.

“What’s the matter?” he said, looking at me as if I were a dimwit.

“Nothing,” I huffed.

As we continued, we noticed massive trees that had toppled over, and many of them bobbed along in the river. We heard the whump, whump, whump, whump of helicopters overhead. Soon, we approached park rangers, re-routing traffic. I stuck my head out the window and overheard bits of instructions given to other passengers in their vehicle. “. . . mountainside . . . engulfed . . . destroyed . . . missing . . . proceed with extreme caution . . . !”

The reporter on the radio described how a typical summer rainfall turned into a horrendous nightmare for hundreds of people. Many homes were washed away in a flash flood. Cars vanished, buried under tons of debris. Roads had been swept away along the canyon, and broken concrete stuck out of the riverbank like foreign objects. It took hours before we careened back into town.

Photo: Vehicles were left stranded in the aftermath of the 1976 Big Thompson flood. Courtesy of Water Resources Archive

Photo: Vehicles were left stranded in the aftermath of the 1976 Big Thompson flood. Courtesy of Water Resources Archive

“Big Thompson River Flood Marker” by Wusel007 – Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons

The morning headlines read:

“THE BIG THOMPSON CANYON FLASH FLOOD.”

Many were reported missing. Dead. Houses and businesses were washed away and destroyed. The overwhelming thought hit me on how oblivious we were to the dangers the night before. If we had camped near the Loveland area, we would never have escaped. Donny could have innocently erred by having us camped out in that Loveland area—and brushed off my concerns in his half-drunken sleep, just as he did the night before. Then what? We might have been one of those statistics.

© M.A. Pérez, 2015, All Rights Reserved

6 Comments

Filed under Bicentennial, Colorado, Memoir, travel

My Bicentennial (Mis)Adventure

July 31, 1976

Have you ever experienced a what-if? Ever been dangerously close to a hazardous situation, to realize just how fortunate you were to have escaped, only to have it gnaw at you later?

courtesy of Wikipedia

Loveland Pass, CO, looking east from the summit. Courtesy of Wikipedia.

Today, as I celebrate this Independence Day, my mind goes back to a moment in time I shall never forget.

We headed for Colorado’s Rocky Mountain National Park for a continued weekend bicentennial celebration, to enjoy the magnificent canyons’ cool mountain air and breathtaking river valleys.

The afternoon breeze mingled with the whiff of hamburgers sizzling on the pit, putting our troubles behind us. Don was in good spirits, along with an ample supply of his favorite beverage. He drank one after another, as he rehashed old childhood and war stories. I roasted marshmallows over the campfire until raindrops drove us inside our van. We tucked in for the night in our sleeping bags.

In no time, Don’s snoring commenced. As my eyelids grew heavy, I thought, at least I’m not out in this wilderness alone.

Sometime later, I awoke with a start, “Donny! Donny, wake up!”

“Hmmm?” my still-asleep, great protector mumbled, turning over.

I sat up and held my breath. I felt the van vibrate. The plunking sound of raindrops rattled across the rooftop, lashing at the van’s exterior. I strained to listen for something else, feel something else, but wasn’t sure what.

Only a case of bad nerves, I reasoned, starting to lie back down. No! There it is again.

“Donny, did you feel that? Our whole van shook!”

“Go back to sleep, gal,” Donny muttered. “It’s probably just a bear.”

Just a bear? Better not be any bear out there!

Minutes passed. I lay back down and willed my body to relax. The sound of rain soon lulled my unsettled thoughts, and sleep overtook me. Before nodding off, I thought I heard rumbling in the distance.

Dusk turned to dawn, and I considered my night’s fright silly. We ate a quick breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, leftover meat, and orange juice.

“Shake a leg,” Donny announced. “Time to go.”

We left our campsite cruising over mucky roads. Puddles and slushy trails made the roads treacherous and tricky. At one point, our van was stuck in the mud. Donny kept his foot over the gas pedal and accelerated. The tires sloshed and the van swirled, nearly tipping over.

“Jesus!” I cried out, thinking we were history.

Unruffled under pressure, Donny turned the wheel sharply to the right and back on the road again.

“What’s the matter?” he said, looking at me as if I were a dimwit.

“Nothing,” I huffed.

As we continued, we noticed massive trees that had toppled over, and many of them bobbed along in the river. We heard the whump, whump, whump, whump of helicopters overhead. Soon, we approached park rangers, re-routing traffic. I stuck my head out the window and overheard bits of instructions given to other passengers in their vehicle. “. . . mountainside . . . engulfed . . . destroyed . . . missing . . . proceed with extreme caution . . . !”

The reporter on the radio described how a typical summer rainfall turned into a horrendous nightmare for hundreds of people. Many homes were washed away in a flash flood. Cars vanished, buried under tons of debris. Roads had been swept away along the canyon, and broken concrete stuck out of the riverbank like foreign objects. It took hours before we careened back into town.

The morning headlines read:

Photo: Vehicles were left stranded in the aftermath of the 1976 Big Thompson flood. Courtesy of Water Resources Archive

Photo: Vehicles were left stranded in the aftermath of the 1976 Big Thompson Flood. Courtesy of Water Resources Archive
(We were apprx 35 miles west of this disaster.)

“THE BIG THOMPSON CANYON FLASH FLOOD.”

Many were reported missing. Dead. Houses and businesses were washed away and destroyed. The overwhelming thought hit me on how oblivious we were to the dangers the night before. If we had camped near the Loveland area, we would never have escaped. Donny could have innocently erred by having us camped out in that Loveland area—and brushed off my concerns in his half-drunken sleep, just as he did the night before. Then what? We might have been one of those statistics.

© M.A. Perez, 2013, All Rights Reserved

4 Comments

Filed under Bicentennial, Colorado, travel