Toronto/Boston Road Trip Part One: Red River Gorge

When Michael approached me about road tripping to Boston, he knew me well enough to know that I would be a guaranteed "yes." The semester was over and I didn't have any finals left other than some papers I needed to turn in. I took a chance and figured I could write them on the road, which luckily didn't completely backfire. The deal was that Michael's younger sister Sarah goes to MIT and she wanted her car for the summer. So, we were driving up to Boston to deliver it and then flying home whenever. Michael and his girlfriend Carolanne had already booked their flights for Saturday, May 4th, but I decided to wait. Greek Orthodox Easter was on May 5th this past year and my family always has a huge celebration in New York that I have never been able to attend. I figured that I ought to go, since I would already be in the Northeast and I had become accustom to riding the bus between Boston and New York City. 

The day after our last day of classes for the semester, I met Michael at his apartment in Gainesville. We packed my stuff into his car and headed across town to pick up our fourth. Her name was Rhea and I had never met her before. I had some reservations about Rhea because I had never met her before and we were going to be traveling together for over a week. As soon as I met her, however, all my concerns disappeared. Her cheerful disposition and her ukelele both won me over instantaneously. Carolanne also joined us and we headed for Panama City. The plan for the entire trip was to go to Panama City, where Michael's parents live, to trade his car for his sister's, and then drive to the Red River Gorge in Kentucky to meet up with another OAR trip for some climbing. We went to the beach in Panama City and it was beautiful. The sand was pure white and the waves were lapping the shore gently. Rhea immediately collapsed in the sand, soaking up the sun and taking a nap. Michael and Carolanne explored the shoreline and I wandered aimlessly in circles before joining Rhea on the sand. Soon thereafter, we ventured to Michael's parents house, where we were welcomed with an incredible dinner and generous hospitality. We enjoyed our time their so much we ended up staying until close to 10 PM. We piled into the Corolla and headed toward Kentucky. 

One important note about this road trip is that Sarah's car is a stick shift. Michael was a competent manual driver and he had taught Carolanne how to drive stick over a year before. Unfortunately, she hadn't had the opportunity to practice since then. Rhea could also somewhat drive stick shift but she struggled with getting the car into first gear. To quote her, she either "peels out or stalls out," which was fun to experience at 3 AM. I can also drive manual cars but I had only learned a few months before, when Mike took an afternoon to teach me. I had been driving my mom's car around Gainesville for a few months for practice but it was the only car I had any experience with. We also picked up an Auburn student in Georgia who had sent out an email to OAR, wanting to join the Red River Gorge trip and needing a one way ride to Kentucky. He had the most stick experience, learning to drive stick shift as a valet. Commence road trip.



The drive to Kentucky was a nightmare, merely because it is about a 12 hour drive or so and we started after 10 PM. I took one of the first turns driving and I was grateful for the opportunity to sleep during the worst shift of all: 3 AM to 7 AM. Luckily, the rest of the world doesn't tend to drive around at these hours, so our lack of manual driving skills were mostly unnoticed. We arrived in Kentucky at 11 AM and met up with the rest of the OAR group. We headed off to climb shortly thereafter. By the time we made it to the wall, however, I was exhausted. I curled up under a tree and passed out. I never actually climbed anything at the Red, which is a shame because the climbing there is famous and fun. That night, we returned to the camp ground at Miguel's Pizza and I split a weird pizza with Nina. It had potatoes and a bunch of other odd ingredients on it but it was still delicious. I also connected to the wifi and attempted to work on the 20 page research design that I had to finish by the following Monday. I had done very little for it and was trying to find some decent pdfs to download so I could work on it sans wifi. 

The next day, unfortunately, it was raining. We decided to forgo climbing and go for a hike instead. We discovered some interesting trails nearby and happened upon a natural bridge as well. I was still tired and thus began my cycle of sleeping and consuming coffee that dominated the trip. Carolanne joked that I was like a puppy because I would run around for a few hours and then tucker out, bouncing between high energy and no energy with little in between. We then headed north again, toward Cincinnati and Buffalo. 

Events occurred: April 25-27, 2013

Florida's Torreya State Park

My first official OAR trip of the semester was a glorified potluck a few hours from Gainesville. Nina led a leisurely hiking trip to Torreya State Park, home of the endangered Torreya tree and some of Florida's only elevation changes. As typical of Florida in January, it was very hot outside and I ended up shedding my flannel and sweatshirt layers instantaneously. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera on this trip but there were about 40 others to compensate. The hike was simple and easy. We completed the loop before dark and set up camp around the yurt that Nina had reserved. Yurts are really cool but difficult for me to explain. Essentially, it was a giant circular tent. Usually, they are collapsable but the ones in the park are not. These also had air conditioning and beds, an OAR luxury. Everyone started cooking dinner and sharing with everyone else, potluck style. I personally ate enough for three, maybe four people and felt kind of sick. Bevin, Kelsey, and I also brought our ukeleles and attempted to play something together. I mostly just strummed mine for fun and barely picked at any chords. I ended up sleeping in the yurt and was lucky enough to secure part of a bed. Unfortunately, my sleeping bag was too hot but the air conditioning was too cold, so I was uncomfortable temperature-wise for a majority of the night.

The next morning, we started another hike and then a group of us turned back for a picnic area, where we set up slacklines and played frisbee. I am terrible at frisbee. Mike and Kelsey have both tried to help me with throwing but my aim is abysmal. I improved somewhat over the duration of several hours but this was marginal. We all lounged around the picnic area until the rest of the group returned. Then, my car decided to go to the beach at St. Joe's. It was out of the way but watching the sunset over the horizon with dolphins jumping in front of us made the drive worth it. We ate dinner at a local pizza place we found on the side of a minor highway and it was delicious. They told us up front that they weren't used to having UF students in FSU territory but we had a peaceful exchange regardless. We returned home at a reasonable hour, another unusual OAR occurrence. 

Events occurred: January 12-13, 2013

MLK Weekend: How about El Salvador?

One of my favorite OAR traditions is the stalking of Spirit Airlines' deals. Spirit's hub is in Fort Lauderdale, FL, a mere five hours drive from Gainesville. Spirit also has a program, called $9 Fare Club. It costs about $70 a year and gives it's members exclusive access to very cheap flights. My first Spirit experience was one of the most stressful moments I have ever had in OAR. I learned about the trip through the list serve and emailed the trip leader, Danny, immediately. I also convinced Christopher, who was still on winter break, to come. The flight was the following week and we had limited time to buy tickets, so I impulsively decided to go to Central America for the first time for only about $130 roundtrip. Danny and I emailed back and forth about buying tickets. I decided to get the $9 Fare Club membership and thus, I was responsible for buying everyone's tickets. He sent me the list of names and email addresses of those who had seemed interested and I had until midnight to buy or the deal would run out. I tried contacting everyone to get their full legal name, date of birth, and passport number. One of the guys was with a friend in the mountains and had difficulty getting cell service. He also couldn't locate his passport number. Time was running out and I had to make the decision to buy. I got the tickets around 11:45 PM, just short of midnight, for 6 of us: Danny, Chris, a girl I had never met named Darby, and two other guys I had also never met, both named Jan. Steven bought his own ticket and emailed me about it later. One of the Jans, nicknamed Johnny, was meeting us in the airport since he was flying back from Mexico, and the other Jan was Danny's roommate. 

One week after buying the tickets, Steven, Darby, Chris, and I headed down to Fort Lauderdale for our late night flight at 11:40 PM. The drive down was the first time I had been to south Florida without my parents and without just taking i95 all the way down. The concept of toll roads in Florida was a foreign concept to me. We also left more the 12 hours in advance, just to be on the safe side, so we were able to stop for a lengthy lunch on the way down. Darby invited us to her parents' house just outside of Orlando and we got to the opportunity to meet her family. They were very welcoming and they seemed to be as intrigued by the Spirit deals as I was and still am to some extent. The odd thing about Spirit, however, is the cost of luggage. As cheap as most OAR kids are, we refused to pay the carry-on baggage fee, taking with us only a small personal item: a backpack with all of our clothes, toiletries, money, passport, etc... shoved inside. While this may seem annoying to the average traveller that prefers having a large rolling suitcase and a duffel bag, I actually prefer travelling abroad with just a small backpack. I can keep it with me at all times without any issues and I tend to prevent myself from overpacking (a habit I developed from road tripping to New York with my family every summer). 

Arriving at the airport several hours before take off is always perfectly ok with me. A somewhat seasoned traveller, I prefer waiting at the gate for an extra hour or more rather than missing my flight. I'm also usually too excited to sit at home for any amount of time the night before any flight, especially going somewhere I've never been. We met Danny and Jan at the airport, spotting them almost immediately. However, the group became concerned when we hadn't found Johnny, whom none of us had ever met before. We were sitting near a young guy wearing a large black and white striped poncho and a hat. He started talking to us in thickly accented English and we soon realized that Johnny, a UF international student from Slovakia, had been sitting next to us the whole time. I wish I could remember the flight itself but I fell asleep almost immediately, our group spread out around the nearly empty airplane, each taking our own row to sleep in. When we arrived in San Salvador, the capital, I wasn't sure what to expect. Danny had arranged private transportation through our hostal, so once we paid for our visas and had our passports stamped, we located the sign with his name on it. The group piled into a large passenger van and my first impression of the country was speeding through in the dark on unpaved roads surrounded by a thick growth of trees and tropical plants. 

Our hostal itself was by far the best I have ever been to. Owned by a British man, Darren, and his Guatemalan wife Seka, the hostal was in Playa San Diego and called El Roble. I have heard that it has since closed because Seka was diagnosed with lymphoma, but I recommend perusing their website, 
http://elrobleelsalvador.blogspot.com/. 
The hostal had two swimming pools, a fire pit, and hammocks sprinkled through out. There was also giant jenga, a ping pong table, and a bar that offered its guests a free welcome drink. Breakfast was also offered every morning and you could buy dinner there if you wanted. My favorite part of the hostal was the abundance of local flora and fauna, giant palm trees in particular, and the large words of welcome painted across the walls in different languages. Since we arrived around 1:30 AM, we our first hours there sleeping. 

The next morning, we arranged for the hostal to take us to a local volcano, Santa Ana. We decided to hike to the top with a large tour group. The tour was in Spanish, so I relied on Steven and Chris to translate everything for me. The weather was a wonderful change from the cold winter break I had spent in Europe, with highs in the 90s. On the drive to Santa Ana, we stopped to take a group shot overlooking a large lake with mountains in the background. There were some locals selling fruit but I was too nervous to try, which I regret now. The start of our volcano hike was shady, the trees thick and bright green. We could also see an active volcano across from the one we were on. As we headed up, the landscape became more barren and more difficult to ascend. Apparently, we did not hike up the actual path and went a more difficult way but we reached the summit all the same. It was incredible. The crater of the volcano was filled with a blue-green lake that appeared to be thick like molasses. It was also very windy and I was afraid that I was going to be blown off the side and swept into the volcano's depths. I preferred sitting, my center of mass closer to the ground and more stable. Chris and Danny took another approach, heading to the far side of the volcano until they were small specs, barely identifiable. I actually got in trouble with the tour guide because I was waiting for them to come back rather than heading back down the volcano with everyone else. When we reached the bottom, I was thirsty, sunburned, exhausted, and also extremely happy. We ventured over to a playground and spent some time climbing all over everything in our sights. 

For dinner, we decided to treat ourselves. The best part about El Salvador is the usage of American currency. We didn't have to exchange anything and pocket change went a long way. Darren recommended a boat restaurant on the lake we had seen from the top of Santa Ana. The boys decided to rent a jet ski and took turns zooming off across the lake while I sat with my feet dangling off the edge of the boat, enjoying the cool water and the beautiful sunset. Johnny decided to do flips and dives off the second story of the boat, drawing an audience of locals who applauded even more than we did. After dinner, we returned to the hostal and relaxed around the bar. We also went swimming in the pool and built a fire in the pit. We took advantage of all the hostal had to offer, including several rounds of ping pong and a few games of giant jenga. 





The next morning, we decided to go to the local beach in La Libertad, known for its surfing at Punta Roca, or "point break." We took our chances on local transportation rather than relying on the hostal. Only ten cents a ride, the bus are old American school buses that have been painted in bright colors and decorated with various images. We got off in the middle of a random street, heading towards the waves. Danny, Jan, and Johnny seemed most insistent on renting a surfboard and hitting the water. They found a local shop and spent the day fighting waves. The rest of us ventured down the beach, checking out small shops and the pier. The pier was most interesting to me, filled with vendors selling fish and other foods. Chris bought some green mangos, covered in a red chili sauce, and let me try them. They were delicious, unlike anything I've ever tasted. I expected them to be more like regular mangos but they were sour and the chili sauce added an extra burst of flavor. The boats were all brightly colored, the same way the rest of this town seemed to be painted. I also went out to the rocks and climbed up to a ledge several feet off the ground, like it was meant to be bouldered. The rest of my day at the beach was spent near a little restaurant where we ate lunch and hung out. The chairs were in the shade, which felt much cooler than being out in the blazing sun. The guys came in from surfing and joined us. Johnny continued his tradition of jumping off of high point and doing flips for an audience, leaping off the balcony on to the sand. Then, we started a small game of toss football with some El Salvadorian children. That was another highlight of this trip, engaging in a game with these kids. Even though I didn't speak their language, we could still play ball together. I also loved hearing little bits of their squeaky-voiced Spanish, which I found very endearing. Soon thereafter, we decided to head back. 

The goal was to get back to the hostal before dark. Even though I didn't feel unsafe at any point in El Salvador, I didn't feel the need to take any chances. Jan and Johnny, however, took off for the pier while we were waiting for the bus. We sent Chris after them since he speaks Spanish and neither one of them do. The rest of us returned to the hostal and when they hadn't arrived by 6, I started to panic. My worst fears about kidnapping and murder began swirling around my head when I heard the front gate open and saw the three of them, each with a large goofy grin on his face. They had gotten a large fish to grill up for dinner and couldn't have been more pleased with themselves. Another group had also arrived at the hostal and we befriended them, playing volleyball in the pool and hanging out in hammocks. 

Our flight home was at 2:05 AM on Tuesday morning, another typical nuance of Spirit flights: the odd hours. We decided to stay up and leave around 11:30 or so. I fell asleep in a hammock, exhausted from the previous two days of adventuring. By the time I was woken up for the ride to the airport, I was in such a groggy state that I hardly remember getting to the airport and going through security. The next thing I knew, we were sitting on the plane. Johnny had purchased some alcohol from the duty free shop in the airport and didn't understand that he wasn't allowed to open it. Instead, he made friends with everyone sitting around us and poured shots for the random strangers around. We almost all got kicked off the plane for this and stranded in El Salvador, but luckily we made it home. Overall, El Salvador was one of my favorite OAR trips of all time. 

Events occurred: January 14-17, 2012