My mother died when I was just 15. It still surprises me a bit to realize that I have now outlived her by nearly three years, and that I have experienced joys she never did: seeing my oldest daughter off on her first date and formal dance, watching her graduate from high school and then college and, just last May, getting married. To my teenaged eyes Mom could at times be very uncool and old fashioned (and very strict!), and I’m sure my own daughters see me that way sometimes. I wonder if Mom felt as young inside as I do now, in spite of what the mirror or the calendar says.

Our relationship was, if not completely free of turbulence (I was, after all, a teenage girl in the late 60s-early 70s), still one where we talked with each other about almost everything. At its core was a mutual respect for each other. I recall several instances when I was troubled by a difficult decision or a conflict with friends. She would sometimes offer advice but always would say, “Well, you’re a smart girl, and I trust you’ll be able to work it out.” She would ask my opinion about something — a book, a song, a political or cultural event (there was always plenty of fodder in those arenas in those days!) — and then listened to and responded to my ideas as an equal. Looking back, I realize what strength and confidence that gave me, although I was the shy, bookish, not-so-stylish girl at school.

I don’t know if she ever knew how much I respected her, too, but I’d like to think I gave her an inkling now and then. I pretended to be mortified but was secretly pleased that she liked Carole King’s Tapestry album and could quote lyrics from several of the songs. I was also proud that before she became a wife and mother to seven kids, she had had a career as a head nurse at Doernbecher Children’s Hospital (a source she used for several cautionary, grisly tales of what happened to kids who did stupid, dangerous things). Two stories she shared from that era in her life gave me glimpses of the fun, daring, adventurous woman she had been (still was?!). She and several of her friends would pool their gas ration cards during World War II so they could drive the 60 miles up to Mt. Hood to ski. The roads were poorly maintained, and the group would often venture beyond what then passed for designated runs without the benefit of lifts, fancy gear or specialized clothing.

After the war, she and two or three of her friends, all single gals, outfitted an old delivery van with mattresses and rudimentary camping gear for a road trip around the United States. At a time before interstate highways, cell phones or ATMs, even now I marvel at such an undertaking. My young self could hardly imagine that my mother, who rarely left the house except for church and an occasional trip downtown on the bus, had embarked on such a journey. Mom spoke of stopping at roadside produce stands in the South, deliberately choosing buys from the poorer-quality, bruised and wilted offerings from the “colored” tables while the proprietors glared when the girls refused their promptings to buy from the “white” side. I was shocked — and impressed — that my mother would do something so impudent and even potentially dangerous.

I can be quite a homebody, and sometimes I really have to push myself to visit new and distant lands. I find myself growing anxious over worries about missed connections, lost luggage and other nebulous hassles. I think of my mom and remind myself that surely I have inherited at least a portion of that intrepid spirit that prompted her on her grand adventures. Perhaps the best way I can honor her memory is to get out there and experience that world she left too soon.

Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader

Recently someone asked me what my dream job would be. After just a few moments of thought, I replied, “A restaurant critic!” How great to be able to try all kinds of cuisine and not have to pay for it! Almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth, though, I thought of another potential ideal job: travel writer. What could be better than wandering the world and sharing your discoveries with others — and getting paid for it? Well, how about combining both of those occupations for the ultimate in dream jobs? Perusing the offerings on at least two cable networks, it seems that there are a lucky few out there who are doing just that.

Most travelers would probably agree that one of the aspects of their journeys they most enjoy is the exposure to new foods and libations of the regions they visit. For those who can’t frequently explore new places and foods, however, they must be satisfied with whatever local ethnic restaurants can provide in the way of variety. Certainly in our largest cities, those options can be quite extensive, and as the globe effectually shrinks, even small towns often boast an assortment of “foreign” cuisines. That may not really suffice for those who long to enjoy a truly authentic experience served up in culture-rich surroundings or who are tired of the same old offerings at home.

Perhaps the next best thing to hopping a plane for parts yet unexplored is spending some time with the well-traveled hosts of some of cable TV’s food-focused shows. Two that my husband and I watch on a fairly regular basis are Food Network’s Diners, Drive-ins and Dives with Guy Fieri and the Travel Channel’s Man vs. Food with Adam Richman. Both shows focus primarily on offerings on American soil, but often they present the quirky, the unusual and truly fantastic that a visitor to a city or region might easily miss. A visit to either show’s website provides one with recipes and addresses and links to the websites of restaurants previously visited. For travelers who are looking for a unique and perhaps regionally authentic dining experience in a strange city, these are sources which reach beyond the typical concierge’s list or tourist guidebook. Giada DeLaurentiis’ Weekend Getaways and Alton Brown’s Feasting on Asphalt (and this season’s Feasting on Waves) on the Food Network also allow one to take part in vicarious road trips with food as the focus. 

The Travel Channel also produces several shows in which foods and recipes are prominently featured in their country or city of origin. A number of these (such as Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations and Andrew Zimmern’s Bizarre Foods) tend to have a more international bent than those mentioned above. Websites for these programs include a “Travel Guides” component which provides lists of the cities, restaurants, hotels and other sites visited in each. These make it especially easy to quickly review whether a spot on your next itinerary has appeared on one of the shows and have all the contact information at your fingertips. 

For those who enjoy seeing new places and indulging in good food, these programs and others like them provide a chance to learn a little more about both without ever leaving home . . . and wonderful incentives to hit the road again!

Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader

Last Sunday, after spending the weekend in Portland, we headed back home, driving south down I-5 to our home less than 50 miles from the California border. Interstates aren’t generally my primary choice for scenic drives, but exceptions are certainly out there (for instance, I-84 through the Columbia Gorge — which I described in a couple of blogs late last fall), and weather and the time of year can certainly add to the visual interest and drama of what might otherwise be a — forgive the pun — rather pedestrian excursion.  That afternoon journey was such a case in point as we traveled through the Willamette Valley in all its lush spring loveliness.

Between the capital city of Salem and the college town of Eugene, Interstate 5 stretches in a nearly straight line across the tabletop-flat flood plain of the Willamette River. Geologists say that the great Ice Age floods (a series of cataclysmic events resulting from repeated ice dams giving way before the waters of prehistoric Lake Missoula in what is now Montana), swept all this way, depositing thick sediment beds which are the basis for this fertile farmland. To the east rise the foothills of the Cascade Mountains, with snowy peaks like Hood and Jefferson floating in the distance, and even lesser crests still dusted with white. The lower rise of the Coast Range brackets the valley to the west, the dark evergreen forests in each direction hemming in the predominately deciduous growth down below.

The foliage at this time of year offers up the most amazing range of greens, everything from a nearly neon chartreuse to the deepest green-black of firs. It seems that each different variety of tree and shrub presents its own unique sliver on the color wheel, and yet all of it blends together in the most beautiful display of rebirth. Here and there the white blooms of wild plum and native dogwood add a bit of contrast, and far across the valley the bright yellow of a fallow field overrun with wild mustard gleams like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

All of this vivid life contrasts sharply with my recollection of this same area just a month or so ago. Then, muddy pastures pocked with huge puddles hibernated under dark, dreary, low-lying clouds. Now, flocks of white-fleeced sheep graze belly-deep in thick grass, mirrored overhead by small, light clouds in a soft blue sky. Up there large red-tailed hawks wheel, floating on the currents, searching for some small creature to bring back to sustain their nestlings.

I hope you will take the time this season to get out and drink in some of the beauty and promise of spring. These days when there is so much that can distress and dismay, there is comfort to be found in the continuation of life unfurling just down the road.

Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader

Recently, GT’s Patty Vanikiotis wrote a blog about crossing the US-Mexico border. One of my funniest travel experiences involved the US-Canada border.

In 2002, my friends and I planned to go to Detroit and Toronto for our annual baseball trip. This was less than a year after 9/11, and security at the border was very tight.

I drove the four of us in my Blazer all the way to Detroit. It was only after I pulled out my wallet at the hotel that I realized I had left my driver’s license at home. I had played softball the previous evening, and I only carry my license and loose cash to the games. The next morning, I grabbed my wallet (minus the license) and was on my way.

Getting into Canada without a license or any other picture ID would be impossible, so we set out to obtain a new ID. It actually wasn’t even that hard. After getting a few places from the phone book, we found the first place right by our hotel. At Bob’s Shop, Bob made a nice ID for me within minutes. He also offered to supply me with a birth certificate. I passed on that (wouldn’t my ink footprint be a bit large?).

The big test came when we attempted to enter Canada. Chuck drove and handed the border guard our four licenses (with my new ID in the strategic third slot for minimum impact). Even with this chicanery, we were still stalled, as none of us small-brains had thought to bring a passport.

I think Chuck offered to show the guard every piece of information we had in the truck, including business cards, insurance cards and an old birthday card that was wedged under my seat. The guard apparently had heard enough and stated that she was telling us for the last time. Then came Jim’s moment to shine. He pulled out a voter’s card, which the guard accepted as proof enough.

A funny after-effect happened at the game in Toronto. Chuck and I went to buy beers. The vendor asked for ID (even though we were both clearly over 21). The vendor nodded at my new ID and passed it back, but he scrutinized Chuck’s legit ID for several seconds before passing it back to him and giving us the beers.

Aside from the ID fiasco (which has now become one of our favorite stories), we all agreed that Toronto was a world-class city. The Hockey Hall of Fame, The Sky Dome (now the Rogers Centre) and the CN Tower are magnificent. The Toronto Zoo and HTO Park (Toronto’s first official urban beach) are great places to spend a day.

Every meal we had in Toronto was awesome. Even the veggie dogs at the Sky Dome were exceptional! Each restaurant was better than the previous. Jim was the hero once again when he secured the best table at an outdoor restaurant (unknowingly bypassing a lengthy line of waiting people). Sitting there, in the raised booth overlooking downtown Toronto, is a moment frozen in my mind. I get relaxed just recalling it.

I would love to go back to Toronto. I’d love to spend more time there checking out more sights. I’d also like to see a Maple Leafs (an original NHL franchise) game.

I would also encourage anyone to visit our neighbor to the North. Just remember to bring proper identification (or else drop in and see Bob).

-John Wroblewski, distribution specialist

I have always loved celebrating the New Year. And after 2008, a year that brought much bad news, I was ready to welcome 2009!

I took a small road trip to Connecticut for the New Year. My friend Kate and I left early afternoon on Wednesday and braved the snow and lots of traffic to meet my friend Beth in New Haven, CT. A trip that normally takes about 3-3.5 hours took almost 5.5 hours. After a short stop in New Haven, we further braved the high winds and snowy conditions to venture to Mohegan Sun, a casino on an Indian reservation. We checked into our hotel. Thanks to last-minute preparations, we were staying at a Holiday Inn for $300 a night — just a slight price hike, huh? Anyway, we finally got ourselves all decked out and into the casino.

Mohegan Sun is huge! There are multiple restaurants, clubs, stores (tax free!) and casinos. There was a ton of activity to choose from, and we had a great time noshing on Mexican food, trying our luck at the slot machines, watching the ball drop and more. New Year’s or any time, there is a lot to do at Mohegan Sun and Foxwoods, just a few more miles up the highway and home to the recently opened MGM Grand Hotel.

The New Year brings with it new starts. Over 20 years ago, family feuds tore apart my father’s side of the family. Being one of eight, my dad’s family is full of aunts, uncles and cousins. Last Tuesday, we all met and had a big dinner together. Step one towards a reconciliation and, in my opinion, a wonderful, fresh start to 2009!

-Kimberly Krol, eFlyer editor, circulation and public relations executive