The upcoming trip to NASA for the Cassini space mission celebration has me thinking about my favorite space and aviation books. Which books most intrigue me? I am inclined towards adventure and travel, rather than machinery. I tend to enjoy the role of women in aviation because I relate to their experiences. Given those biases, here are a few favorites. Join me in getting into the mood for adventure with some space, aviation and exploration reads and film.
Before film there were books. Before space, there was aviation. So in that order:
Aviation and Space: My Favorite Books
The first three books are about Beryl Markham who I find to be one of the most interesting characters in the history of aviation. The first is in her own words; the second a biography; and the third a historic novel. All are great reads.
One of my favorite adventure/history/travel/aviation books ever! It’s a beautifully written story of the remarkable life of aviatrix and adventurer Beryl Markham.
From Amazon:
“Markham is often described as “the first person” to fly the Atlantic east to west in a solo non-stop flight, though most now dispute this claim. When Markham decided to take on the Atlantic crossing, no pilot had yet flown non-stop from Europe to New York, and no woman had made the westward flight solo, though several had died trying. Markham hoped to claim both records. She took off from Abingdon, England. After a 20-hour flight she crash-landed at Baleine Cove on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia. In spite of falling short of her goal, Markham had become the first woman to cross the Atlantic east-to-west solo, and the first person to make it from England to North America non-stop. She was celebrated as an aviation pioneer. Markham chronicled her many adventures in her memoir, West with the Night, published by BN Publishing. After living for many years in the United States, Markham moved back to Kenya, becoming for a time the most successful horse trainer in the country.”
And a short excerpt to give you a sense of the wonderful prose:
Africa is mystic; it is wild; it is a sweltering inferno; it is a photographer’s paradise, a hunter’s Valhalla, an escapist’s Utopia. It is what you will and it withstands all interpretations. It is the last vestige of a dead world or the cradle of a shiny new one. To a lot of people, as to myself, it is just ‘home’. It is all these things but one thing-it is never dull.
If you only read one travel/aviation book (hah! who can only read just one!) this is it.
Mary Lovell is an accomplished biographer with an easy to read style. This is probably the definitive biography of Ms. Markham and a great read.
From Amazon:
“Born in England and raised in Kenya, Beryl Markham was a notorious beauty. She trained race horses and had scandalous affairs, but she is most remembered for being a pioneering aviatrix. She became the first woman to cross the Atlantic Ocean and the first person to make it from London to New York nonstop. In Mary S. Lovell’s definitive biography, Beryl takes on new life—vividly portrayed by a master biographer whose knowledge of her subject is unparalleled.”
Author of The Paris Wife about Ernest Hemingway’s early days and first marriage in Paris, Paula McLain is a New York Times best selling author. This book was named one of the best books of the year by NPR and is a fictional story, well told.
“In McLain’s confident hands, Beryl Markham crackles to life, and we readers truly understand what made a woman so far ahead of her time believe she had the power to soar.”—Jodi Picoult, author of Leaving Time
“Enchanting . . . a worthy heir to [Isak] Dinesen . . . Like Africa as it’s so gorgeously depicted here, this novel will never let you go.”—The Boston Globe
“Famed aviator Beryl Markham is a novelist’s dream. . . . [A] wonderful portrait of a complex woman who lived—defiantly—on her own terms.”—People (Book of the Week)
“Circling the Sun soars.”—Newsday
“Captivating . . . [an] irresistible novel.”—The Seattle Times
“Like its high-flying subject, Circling theSun is audacious and glamorous and hard not to be drawn in by. Beryl Markham may have married more than once, but she was nobody’s wife.”—Entertainment Weekly
“[An] eloquent evocation of Beryl’s daring life.”—O: The Oprah Magazine
“Markham’s life is the stuff of legend. . . . McLain has created a voice that is lush and intricate to evoke a character who is enviably brave and independent.”—NPR
“Bold, absorbing fiction.”—New York Daily News
“Paula McLain has such a gift for bringing characters to life. I loved discovering the singular Beryl Markham, with all her strengths and passions and complexities.”—Jojo Moyes, author of Me Before You
I have always been fascinated by seaplanes, particularly amphibians. And the era of flying boats intrigues me to no end. I think it’s the romance and possibility of unique adventures that resonate with my soul. I actually flew in a restored World War II Dornier and did splash and goes in Lake Tahoe. That was an amazing experience! Here is a link to a recent film of a Dornier unfortunately experiencing the water equivalent of a ground loop!
This book captures the essence of the glamor of travel by flying boat:
From Amazon:
“When the China Clipper shattered aviation records on its maiden six-day flight from California to the Orient in 1935, the flying boat became an instant celebrity. This lively history by Robert Gandt traces the development of the great flying boats as both a triumph of technology and a stirring human drama. He examines the political, military, and economic forces that drove its development and explains the aeronautical advances that made the aircraft possible. To fully document the story he includes interviews with flying boat pioneers and a dynamic collection of photographs, charts, and cutaway illustrations.”
Can you imagine taking a flying boat across the Pacific? This next book is written by an engineer who worked with Pan Am to make this aviation/travel miracle happen.
I found this book in a used book store somewhere, and it’s a find. This 1936 account of trans Pacific passenger flight is out of print and worth searching out. It’s a first person story by the man who helped Pan Am lay out their flying boat ocean routes. Sites include Guam, Wake and Midway Island. There is a reproduction of the book from digital images from the University of Michigan Library. This link takes you to the reproduced book.
For the flying boat history fans in the audience, this is a marvelous book. It’s one of the books I always had at hand for a quick browse when I needed a bit of vicarious aviation adventure.
From Amazon:
“The flying-boat represents an important chapter in this history. Used in modest numbers at the outset, this beautiful craft was later to be developed and exploited significantly by Pan American – indeed, no airline company made more of the water-based aircraft, nor used it to greater effect, than this world-renowned company in the first twenty years of its operational life. This book is testament to that use. Through the carriage of mail and then passengers, Pan American built an ocean-crossing network using a fleet of flying-boats which became famous as the Pan American Clipper Ships. In the process of this development, aviation records were constantly set, ranging from the first airline to cross the Pacific, the first to encompass South America in its routes, and the first to offer fare-paying, scheduled services across the North Atlantic. The new service offered travelers, government officials, and even heads of state, unparalleled levels of comfort and luxury, and such innovations had to be accompanied by a good share of business acumen, promotional skill and high regard for passenger comfort. Revealing portraits are presented here of the key pioneering figures who pushed the technology ahead, and ultimately laid the foundations for the global air transport network and passenger services that we know today. The Pan Am Clipper Ships belong to one of aviation history’s most inspiring and magical periods. Illustrated with over 100 archive photographs, this impressive book is a tribute to a technical wonder that continues to fascinate and captivate today and which, in its time, was the toast of international air travel.”
“Powder Puff” was a misnomer. The women who flew this race were great pilots with a lot of guts. The lack of navigation facilities compared to today is almost unbelievable. Ask yourself if you’d be willing to take on a race under these same conditions. Many of us, I believe, would pass. This is a truly inspiring story of early aviation and the women that shaped it.
(A Full 5 Stars!) From Amazon:
“The unforgettable true story of the 1929 air race that legitimized female pilots.
In 1929, nineteen women set out from Santa Monica, California, in flimsy, propeller driven planes, with a mission-to be the first to cover the 2,759 mile course to Cleveland, Ohio. Dubbed “The Powder Puff Derby” by humorist Will Rogers, who covered the race, the competition was aggressive and dangerous.
A thrilling narrative, The Powder Puff Derby of 1929 tells the story of the first major female airplane race, whose contestants included Amelia Earhart, the most famous female pilot of her time. Many of the women flew in open cockpits, with no air controllers to help them and often only primitive airports to land on. Yet by facing the hazards with skill and determination, the racers thrilled the nation and pioneered a new future and respect for female aviators.
The Powder Puff Derby of 1929 tells the stories of these first female pilots, gutsy and colorful adventurers who flew in air circuses, set altitude and speed records and fought for the right to become part of the male-dominated world of aviation. The book also includes various artifacts of the groundbreaking race, including priceless, never-before-published black and white photos, as well as Air Force maps of the terrain over which the women flew.
An inspiring story of confidence and persistence, The Powder Puff Derby of 1929 captures a defining moment in the history of aviation and women’s rights.”
No look at aviation, the space program and NASA would be complete without including this remarkable man who was a force in pushing the limits of aviation into space. Chuck Yeager was the first man to break the sound barrier and is a key character in Tom Wolf’s story about NASA, The Right Stuff. In the movie, Yeager makes a cameo appearance in one of the Happy Bottom Flying Club scenes. This book is sheer inspiration.
From Amazon:
“General Chuck Yeager, the greatest test pilot of them all — the first man to fly faster than the speed of sound . . .the World War II flying ace who shot down a Messerschmitt jet with a prop-driven P-51 Mustang . . .the hero who defined a certain quality that all hotshot fly-boys of the postwar era aimed to achieve: the right stuff.
Now Chuck Yeager tells his whole incredible life story with the same “wide-open, full throttle” approach that has marked his astonishing career. What it was really like enaging in do-or-die dogfights over Nazi Europe. How after being shot over occupied France, Yeager somehow managed to escape. The amazing behind-the-scenes story of smashing the sound barrier despite cracked ribs from a riding accident days before.
The entire story is here, in Yeager’s own words, and in wondeful insights from his wife and those friends and colleagues who have known him best. It is the personal and public story of a man who settled for nothing less than excellence, a one-of-a-kind portrait of a true American hero.”
The Happy Bottom Riding Club was the name of the bar where the NASA Mercury 7 wannabes hung out in the California desert, run by aviatrix Pancho Barnes. This is a terrific story of the end of one aviation era and the beginning of another, told through the life of a most interesting and remarkable woman.
From Amazon:
“Pancho Barnes was a force of nature, a woman who lived a big, messy, colorful, unconventional life. She ran through three fortunes, four husbands, and countless lovers. She outflew Amelia Earhart, outsmarted Howard Hughes, outdrank the Mexican Army, and out- maneuvered the U.S. government. In The Happy Bottom Riding Club, award-winning author Lauren Kessler tells the story of a high-spirited, headstrong woman who was proud of her successes, unabashed by her failures, and the architect of her own legend. Florence “Pancho” Barnes was a California heiress who inherited a love of flying from her grandfather, a pioneer balloonist in the Civil War. Faced with a future of domesticity and upper-crust pretensions, she ran away from her responsibilities as wife and mother to create her own life. She cruised South America. She trekked through Mexico astride a burro. She hitchhiked halfway across the United States. Then, in the late 1920s, she took to the skies, one of a handful of female pilots. She was a barnstormer, a racer, a cross-country flier, and a Hollywood stunt pilot. She was, for a time, “the fastest woman on earth,” flying the fastest civilian airplane in the world. She was an intimate of movie stars, a script doctor for the great director Erich von Stroheim, and, later in life, a drinking buddy of the supersonic jet jockey Chuck Yeager. She ran a wild and wildly successful desert watering hole known as the The Happy Bottom Riding Club, the raucous bar and grill depicted in The Right Stuff. In The Happy Bottom Riding Club, Lauren Kessler presents a portrait, both authoritative and affectionate, of a woman who didn’t play by women’s rules, a woman of large appetites–emotional, financial, and sexual–who called herself “the greatest conversation piece that ever existed.”
This Tom Wolfe classic captures the macho and bravado of the early NASA days as we transitioned from jet aircraft into the space program. Readers get an insight into the impact of Sputnik; the race to space; the intense competition to make the final NASA cut. This is one of Tom Wolf’s best books and a close up look at what it actually feels like to have The Right Stuff. It’s epic, it’s historic, it’s a must read.
From Amazon:
From “America’s nerviest journalist” (Newsweek)–a breath-taking epic, a magnificent adventure story, and an investigation into the true heroism and courage of the first Americans to conquer space. “Tom Wolfe at his very best” (The New York Times Book Review)
“Millions of words have poured forth about man’s trip to the moon, but until now few people have had a sense of the most engrossing side of the adventure; namely, what went on in the minds of the astronauts themselves – in space, on the moon, and even during certain odysseys on earth. It is this, the inner life of the astronauts, that Tom Wolfe describes with his almost uncanny empathetic powers, that made The Right Stuff a classic.”
I am embarrassed to say that I didn’t know about The Mercury 13 and their role in NASA until I visited the Seattle Museum of Flight. Here in this book is their amazing story:
From Amazon:
“In 1961, just as NASA launched its first man into space, a group of women underwent secret testing in the hopes of becoming America’s first female astronauts. They passed the same battery of tests at the legendary Lovelace Foundation as did the Mercury 7 astronauts, but they were summarily dismissed by the boys’ club at NASA and on Capitol Hill. The USSR sent its first woman into space in 1963; the United States did not follow suit for another twenty years.
For the first time, Martha Ackmann tells the story of the dramatic events surrounding these thirteen remarkable women, all crackerjack pilots and patriots who sometimes sacrificed jobs and marriages for a chance to participate in America’s space race against the Soviet Union. In addition to talking extensively to these women, Ackmann interviewed Chuck Yeager, John Glenn, Scott Carpenter, and others at NASA and in the White House with firsthand knowledge of the program, and includes here never-before-seen photographs of the Mercury 13 passing their Lovelace tests.
Despite the crushing disappointment of watching their dreams being derailed, the Mercury 13 went on to extraordinary achievement in their lives: Jerrie Cobb, who began flying when she was so small she had to sit on pillows to see out of the cockpit, dedicated her life to flying solo missions to the Amazon rain forest; Wally Funk, who talked her way into the Lovelace trials, went on to become one of the first female FAA investigators; Janey Hart, mother of eight and, at age forty, the oldest astronaut candidate, had the political savvy to steer the women through congressional hearings and later helped found the National Organization for Women.
A provocative tribute to these extraordinary women, The Mercury 13 is an unforgettable story of determination, resilience, and inextinguishable hope.”
This book is a “picture book” accompanied by some great stories. And it’s a book that means a lot to me. I bought it early on in my flying career and was immediately captivated by the scenes of western flight. Helmut Reichmann was a world class pilot and world gliding champion who co-founded the tournament with Barron Hilton. Reichmann died soaring the French Alps in 1992. Barron Hilton is a long time aviation and space supporter. Both men’s legacies live on in the amazing sport and this wonderful book. An excerpt:
“For thousands of years, man could only dream of soaring like an eagle, gliding effortlessly with the wind…Through a careful blend of high-tech aircraft design and instinctive pilot skill, man is able to capture the sensation known only to the birds of the hair. Managing invisible updrafts of air to gain altitude. Gliding at high speed in a gradual descent for hundreds of miles. All in a plane without an engine. A craft fueled only by the mind of the pilot.”
A craft fueled only by the mind of the pilot. Now that’s aviation!
This book was wildly popular when it was released and it stands the test of time. As does the movie (below). It seems especially fitting that the Discovery One is on a mission to Saturn, as I prepare to go to celebrate the end of an actual Saturn mission, Cassini.
From Amazon:
The classic science fiction novel that inspired Stanley Kubrick’s immortal 1968 film and changed the way we look at the stars and ourselves.
“From the savannas of Africa at the dawn of mankind to the rings of Saturn as man ventures to the outer rim of our solar system, 2001: A Space Odyssey is a journey unlike any other.
This allegory about humanity’s exploration of their universe, and the universe’s reaction to humanity lives on as a hallmark achievement in storytelling. The story follows the Discovery One and its crew as they embark on a mission to Saturn. Controlling the Discovery One is the HAL 9000, an artificially intelligent supercomputer that manages the functions of all systems of the spacecraft. A masterful feat of human engineering, HAL is capable of the highest level of cognitive functioning that rivals—and perhaps threatens—the human mind.
Grappling with space exploration, the perils of technology, and the limits of human power, 2001: A Space Odyssey continues to be an enduring classic of cinematic scope.”
Aviation and Space: My Favorite Films
The history of space exploration is inherently inspiring. It involves vision, daring and risk. It involves grand topics on grand scales. What’s not to love? Here are a few of my favorites, starting with Lindbergh crossing the Atlantic.
The Spirit of St. Louis
Charles Lindbergh was an important part of aviation history. The first man to cross the Atlantic, his feat of daring changed the perception the possibilities of aviation in its time. Years later, his wife, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, would accompany him on numerous flights and become an accomplished writer that among other publications, chronicled their trip to the North Pole, in North to the Orient.
Jimmy Stewart stars in this classic film about the history of aviation, bravery, risk and reward.
This movie stars Spencer Tracy and Irene Dunne. A remake, Always, starring Richard Dreyfus and Holly Hunter, features Audrey Hepburn in a cameo appearance in the film. The movie is worth watching for this alone.
This is more of a love story than an aviation film, but I include this movie because anyone who flies has had some close calls. And sometimes it seems as if there is someone there watching out for us. Pilots are connected by this magical experience of flying, and who knows how deep the connection may be.
This World War II classic follows the every day workings of the Eighth Army Air Force through the experience of the Memphis Belle crew. The men who flew these missions experienced the highest casualty rate of all the armed forces during this war.
This is an inspiring classic that will remind you of the incredible acts of selflessness from this incredible generation. In addition to the recent movie, a 1943 war film was also made about the crew of this B-17.
This is a classic that’s worth rewatching, particularly in view of the modern day use of artificial intelligence, bots and other technology.
From Roger Ebert:
“The genius is not in how much Stanley Kubrick does in “2001: A Space Odyssey,” but in how little. This is the work of an artist so sublimely confident that he doesn’t include a single shot simply to keep our attention. He reduces each scene to its essence, and leaves it on screen long enough for us to contemplate it, to inhabit it in our imaginations. Alone among science-fiction movies, “2001″ is not concerned with thrilling us, but with inspiring our awe.“
“Interstellar is Nolan’s best and most brazenly ambitious film to date. Doubling down on the Kubrick comparisons, he’s made his own sweeping space odyssey in which a team of astronauts, led by Matthew McConaughey’s stoically smouldering Coop, venture into the great beyond in search of a new home for humanity. Starlight whirls, planets rock on their axes, and spacecraft cartwheel through nothingness, all soundtracked by a reverential Hans Zimmer score that’s equal parts Johann Strauss and Philip Glass…
But the aim of Nolan’s film is.. to set quantum physics and love on an equal footing, as two densely complex, destiny-steering forces his characters learn to surrender to without ever fully fathoming.”
One of the best speeches of the movie is from Michael Caine as he recites Dylan Thomas’ Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
“Apollo 13” inspires many reflections, and one of them is that America’s space program was achieved with equipment that would look like tin cans today. Like Lindbergh, who crossed the Atlantic in the first plane he could string together that might make it, we went to the moon the moment we could, with the tools that were at hand…
Apollo 13″ never really states its theme, except perhaps in one sentence of narration at the end, but the whole film is suffused with it: The space program was a really extraordinary thing, something to be proud of, and those who went into space were not just “heroes,” which is a cliché, but brave and resourceful…
Ron Howard’s film of this mission is directed with a single-mindedness and attention to detail that makes it riveting. He doesn’t make the mistake of adding cornball little subplots to popularize the material; he knows he has a great story, and he tells it in a docudrama that feels like it was filmed on location in outer space.”
This movie version of Tom Wolfe’s book is just as good as the book. It so captures the alpha aviation culture of test pilots; it’s a historic resource in terms of commemorating the start of the NASA space program; and everyone is so well cast. It’s one of my favorite movies of all time. If you haven’t seen this for a while, it’s worth watching again. And if you’ve never seen it, what are you waiting for?
It starts with Chuck Yeager’s breaking the sound limit and chronicles the early days of the Mercury space program at NASA. It integrates the human, political and social issues of the space race. And the real Chuck Yeager makes a cameo appearance in the Happy Bottom Riding Club, which is also depicted in the movie along wth Pancho Barnes played by Kim Stanley . The story is epic; the music is epic; the acting and casting are terrific. This is a film that motivates, inspires and remains incredibly human, all at the same time. This belongs on every aviator’s favorite list.
Be prepared to laugh, to cry and to just love this movie about a group of never-got-to-space astronauts who get a second shot at space flight. Great script, great cast, great movie! This is a clip from the close of the movie:
Love this movie or hate it, it’s a bit of a classic. It was one of the early movies to use a music video format and it was wildly successful. The flying shots are great fun, and the music captures that relentless, dangerous essence of military flight. I have to admit whenever I see the opening sequence, I’m mesmerized. My favorite vignette is all the pilots watching (and rating) the landings as they come in. No matter what you fly, or where you fly it, some things never change.
I’ve always been inspired by space exploration and learning to fly has been one of the most remarkable experiences of my life. To all who went before me, thank you for your daring, bravery and vision. To all those that pushed the limits and continue to do so, my hat is off to you!
Man must rise above the Earth — to the top of the atmosphere and beyond — for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives. — Socrates
See you at NASA. I’ll be on both Twitter and Instagram.
What is #CancerRoadTrip and how did it come to be? Read this post to get the backstory!
I recently stayed at a place that had a local paper delivered every morning. I’d open the paper and see the news from the night before. It had a certain charm, and it made me stop.
The idea that the news was lagged a day was very, well, quaint. The notion that I was just receiving the information and taking it in in a delayed fashion seemed so at odds with our modern world. If this were 15 or 20 years ago, I would leisurely read the paper, browse the various topics, share the news with people throughout the day, hear their thoughts and form my own. The leisureliness of this process of distilling information and thought is so very appealing. Imagine! Time to actually think and let things unfold a bit!
Instead, today, we move in a world that wants instant reaction and opinion, often at the expense of some thoughtful inquiry. Rather than browsing disparate topics, letting something offbeat catch our attention, our information is narrowed by search topic and trends. We are addicted to devices that bring little satisfaction, but much distraction. Distracted, we can’t be in present moment. We become ghosts in our own time.
I was in the supermarket the other day and a young mother and her daughter were practically running through the to-go food section. They spoke in staccato bursts, rather loudly, as if in their own little bubble. They grabbed pre-formed packages of food and scurried to the register. I couldn’t help but think that this was life as usual in their world, not an aberration.
Watching the clouds
What ever happened to taking the time to watch the clouds go by? Seriously. No matter what your age, your mind and imagination need some free reign, to be idle, to wonder and to dream. Your iPhone can’t do this for you and chances are your social media networks actually in inhibit this type of psychological and even spiritual evolution.
Perhaps I was sensitive to this because I feel as if I’ve been tethered to my machines for the last day or two, dealing with the vagaries of Twitter rules and it’s bizarre enforcement. Apparently a sixty year old woman with cancer (me) is some sort of threat to this behemoth because they’ve ghosted me. That means, they aren’t allowing my tweets to show up in a hashtag search. I think. And who knows what else. For who knows what reason. I don’t really understand any of it. They don’t communicate with you; they just make you disappear. They “ghost” you.
I only discovered this because I wanted to look into running an ad for the free #CancerRoadTrip giveaways that we’re working on. Some of my younger, techie friends explained what was happening to me. And that I needed to grovel to Twitter and hope and pray to the Twitter gods-that-be that I would be un-ghosted.
I just don’t understand.
And of course, there is no customer service. Such a passe idea! You can appeal to a bot.
So I’ve appealed to the bots and I’ve not had a response. Nothing. Nada.
I shall appeal again after the Labor Day holiday. Surely bots work weekends! Or do they?
Without any direct contact with their own customers, even through their bots, how is it that Twitter makes these decisions that impact people’s businesses and lives? The on line thought police seem to have the mistaken notion that my get-healthy-meditate-travel-have-some-fun philosophy is threatening to the stability of their matrix.
The Matrix–great movie!– looks at mind control by creating false realities. Here is an excerpt. It’s a bit dark, but it does get the point across. (If you haven’t seen this classic film, it really is a must watch.)
“No one has ever done anything like this.”
I sense trepidation from my young techie friends that I would dare challenge the system. Be nice, the on-line guides say. Grovel, I am repeatedly told.
Really?
This is a blog about life and cancer!
This isn’t my first run in with Twitter and it probably won’t be my last. So I decided to peacefully vent a bit, here in my blog. (No digital guns–per the movie–just words. Oh my!)
Whatever happened to the ability to have some civil discourse? Whatever happened to tolerance? Who are these on line thought police that are declaring thugs in black sheets to be acceptable and 60 year old health oriented travel bloggers are not? Not to mention Google arbitrarily closing down all the accounts of a statistics professor running a charitable site promoting math education. Or Twitter suspending the account of a man that shall we say, (the bots may be listening), “ended” the life of a mosquito. Yes, a mosquito.
Really?
Really?
In the film clip below, consider substituting the logos of name-your-tech-firm for the phrase “the flag”, and try substituting Twitter for “Bob Rumsen” in this diatribe from The American President:
A note to the bots: Please note that this is a movie. (Movie: Digital rendering of scenes involving actors and storylines, used to inform, amuse and distract humans.) I am not in any way recommending anyone burn flags, logos or incite any violence!
And let us not forget Patrick McGoohan in the The Prisoner, a great, if short lived, 1960’s TV series. It’s about a spy who isn’t allowed to resign, but is instead is “ghosted”: kidnapped, and exiled into a Potemkin Village, with bizarre and arbitrary rules, that are undisclosed and enforced at will, with no reason, explanation or warning.
Here’s a link to the first episode for a bit of nostalgia. The musical theme to the series’ predecessor, Danger Man, should ring a few bells for anyone of a certain age.
Looking back is fun, but looking ahead right now is a bit disturbing. The recycling of these themes is, according to William Strauss and Neil Howe, part of the cycle of history. They tackle this topic of generational recycling of ideas and trends in their book The Fourth Turning. It’s an interesting read for the history buffs in the audience.
What each of these films (and this book) have in common is a desire for freedom and a historic (and futuristic) perspective on human political evolution and repression. It is not about political party. It’s not about personalities. But it is about freedom. Having our peaceful, non-threatening speech arbitrarily edited by Google or Twitter is just wrong. Who are these nameless people, or are they (most likely) just ghost bots?
And how’s it working out for them?
FANG Stocks
Pretty well so far, at least for the high flying “FANGs”. The financial bots seem to be tech friendly. Collusion? (Bot joke!) Although the trend line might be changing. One never knows what lies ahead.
Let’s look at Twitter who apparently is not part of this elite tech group:
Twitter stock price
Hmmm. Not so good.
I realize that I’m out of date and obviously out of cinque with this bot driven world, but some ideas have stood the test of modern time and some have not. Those that have been utter, complete, total and costly failures include attempts to limit free speech and/or to dictate societal norms. (see Nazi Germany, the former Soviet Union, The Prague Spring, Easter Europe under the “Iron Curtain” etc., etc, etc.).
Man never changes. His hubris guarantees this.
End of rant.
Please don’t see this as political. It’s not. I’m part of the “none of the above” crowd these days, but it seems like I just can’t express it. At least not on Twitter where I tweet about the travel and health and adventure of a life well lived and all sorts of apparently threatening topics.
Nestled in Puget Sound, north of Seattle, is Whidbey Island. I have heard wonderful things about this island and something draws me to it. I’ve learned to pay attention to these intuitions, even if I don’t always understand them.
I reserve an Airbnb, and after my last experience, I keep my expectations low. It’s late in the season, and I suspect that whatever is left isn’t up to snuff. But whatever happens, it’s ok. My goal is simply to experience this island. And I’m only here three nights. I just need a place to sleep and shower, and here on an island in the Puget Sound, the temperature should be comfortable.
Map of Samish, north of Ox, en route to Whidbey Island
En route to Whidbey, I leave Route 5 South for the rolling country of coastal Skagit Valley and for Ox, Washington. Why this small town? Because just north of it, on the water, is Samish and in Samish is the Taylor Shellfish oyster farm where you can shuck your own oysters seaside. Actually, its estuary side, because oysters need tidelands and time to grow.
The history of Taylor’s dates back to 1895, when Washington’s Legislature passed the Bush Act and the Callow Act, both of which allowed for sale of tidelands into private ownership. This private ownership of the tidelands, which is unique to Washington, is the foundation of the state’s very successful shellfish industry and provided the launch point for Taylor’s to grow to be the largest oyster raising company in North America, with hatcheries and nurseries in Hawaii, California, Vancouver and a pearl farm in Asia.
Moving the young oysters from bin to bin to help their growth
Different oysters grow in different conditions, at different depths, but the basic process is the same. Three to four week old larvae settle onto suitable materials (“cultch”) such as old oyster shells. Here they will grow to maturity. They may be suspended in the water, placed on the floor of the water, or in floating nets where they are shaken (not stirred). It all depends on the oyster. The entire process takes up to three years before they are ready to go to market.
Workers at Taylor’s Oyster Farm in Samish, WA
On this perfect summer day at waters edge as I watch the workers nurture and harvest oysters, I am reminded that most of the year is damp, drizzly and grey. Paraphrasing Frank Perdue, “It takes a tough man to raise a tender oyster”. I order a dozen assorted oysters.
Various oysters at Taylors Shellfish Farm
I am hopelessly un-mechanical and it rapidly became evident that I’ll maim either myself or perhaps those around me my own shucking oysters. So Taylors also offers a shucking service. (Thank you!)
A plate of briny perfection, “seaside”.
I settle into a seat at an outdoor wooden picnic bar overlooking the tidelands. The man who brings my oysters starts to chat and tells me the history of this operation and the process of raising oysters. I’m stunned at the work involved, and the two to three years needed to raise a single oyster. All of a sudden $2-$3 an oyster isn’t sounding so expensive.
The man continues his story. He is retired and this is his fun job. If it ceases to be fun, he will cease to work. But he’s been doing this for nearly a decade and there doesn’t seem to be any retirement in sight.
I think this would be an amazing retirement job. People from all over; a bit of conversation; undoubtedly good deals on the freshest of fish. And of course oysters. Under these conditions, I’d learn to shuck my own!
The roadway to Taylor’s Oyster Farm. It’s a working farm, on the water, next to the railroad.
Taylor’s is a very laid back locale. The road to the farm is a one lane offshoot of the main road. It descends to sea level, parallels some train tracks, then ends at the oyster operation. No need to dress. Just come hungry!
In addition to oysters, mussels, crab and other seafood is also sold, depending on availability. Get here early for the best selection.
***
I hearby name “Pacific Northwest Blue” an official color!
The countryside is Pacific Northwest beautiful. Mountains in the background (on a clear day); lots of land and crops; and goats.
Goats? Yes, at Gothberg Farms. Forty acres of farmland in the Skagit Valley produces farmstead goat cheeses. From their website:
“You can taste the essence of our Valley: the sea breezes, the grasses, & the surrounding farm activities.”
And it’s true. The cheese has a freshness and lightness that is remarkable. The yogurt is dense; it needs to be scooped out as if it were ice cream, frozen hard. But in spite of the denseness, it is so fresh and clean on the palate. I’m a goat milk yogurt fan, and this blew me away. Similarly the chèvre is dense and while it has that traditional tang I so adore, it’s subtle. The incredible quality of the milk shines through in each and every bite, of each and every product. As owner Rhonda Gothberg points out, the goats only get the best. She’s had a grain blend customized for their diet; they have beautiful pastures to roam; and the utmost care is taken in crafting their milk into cheese.
In addition to the soft cheese and yogurt, the farm produces an array of hard cheeses as well–cheddar, dill havarti and more. Some are aged for several years-you may have to request these. The rest are simply placed in an outdoor refrigerator, under a metal canopy adjacent to the barn, and it’s self serve. Just jot down what you’re taking, tally it up, and self pay.
***
Whidbey Island
The afternoon is waning and Whidbey Island is not far away. The drive becomes somewhat less scenic as I get on 20 west toward Fidalgo, as gas stations and small shops appear roadside. Refineries just up the road seem the antithesis of the rural splendor I’d expected.
The bridge at Deception Pass, at the northern end of Whidey Island
Then I turn south on 20 towards Deception Pass and that first impression is gone. Winding roads sweep through deep forest and open to the bridge at Deception Pass. I stop. A young man is flying a DJMavicPro drone, just like the one I plan to buy. We chat.
“It’s easy to fly”, he reassures me. “Watch.”
He hits the home command. The drone is out of sight, but the compact flying machine settles itself perfectly onto a small landing zone where it had taken off from.
“Can I pick it up?” I ask. I’m curious about both the weight and bulk.
It’s so light. The arms and propellers fold and it’s small enough I could put it in my purse. This is definitely on the wish list. But for me to include drone footage in the blog, I need a commercial drone rating. And it occurs to me that some insurance might not be a bad idea either.
It’s getting to be late afternoon, and I’d like to check in and get the lay of the land a bit before darkness falls. The Airbnb is not far from here. I head off to see what I’ve gotten myself into this time.
At the intersection, Google instructs me to turn. I note an RV park. At least it’s not a trailer park, I think. The countryside is beautiful, so as long as the place is reasonably tolerable, I’ll be fine.
Maybe more than fine.
Because this time, it’s absolute
Nirvana
The door to the guest quarters. You can see the jasmine through the window pane.
A small blackboard welcomes me by name and flowers decorate the entrance. The guest house is separate from the main house and accessed through a windowed door marked “cottage”.
The door opens to the smell of jasmine climbing a trellis and a small private deck that overlooks the water. Seats with throw pillows and the sound of gentle chimes moving with the breeze welcome me. The room has a small frig (for my goat cheese yogurt!) and food area, a nice bed, and a small table where I can write. And, of course, wifi.
The sunset from my private deck.
The sunset the first evening on Whidbey Island was repeated again and again, with slightly different hues and cloud formations. Mornings could be clear or a bit foggy. Either way, the location was spectacular. As were my hosts.
Sunset n Whidbey Island
Jeff and Margi are a bit older than I am. For years, they raised apples on their land east of the Cascades. And they had an apple distribution business. Until one day, Meryl Streep declared on a network TV show that all the produce coming from that valley was tainted (it wasn’t) and consuming the apples would poison you (it wouldn’t). But their business tanked and they found themselves facing paying back nearly a million dollars in loans, with no business to back it. They managed to pay back the loans and with a strong entrepreneurial spirit, went on to a variety of different businesses.
My hosts were nothing short of wonderful. The first evening they took me out to show me the best trailheads; the walk to the former ferry landing; and other landmarks that would make my stay so much easier by knowing the lay of the land. In addition they had great island restaurant and touring recommendations.
Whidbey Island, Anacortes to Coupeville
The following day dawns cloudy. It’s a good day to do an island tour I decide. So I set off first for Anacortes, then south towards Langley on a Whidbey Island tour.
Whidbey is about 60 miles long, which provides for diversity without being too large to navigate. Anacortes is actually on Fandalgo Island just to the north, and is a great base for reaching the San Juans, as well as for whale watching. The town has a
The inside of GereDeli in Anacortes.
well restored downtown with plenty of shops and restaurants. One, recommended by my hosts, was GereDeli. I had breakfast (a wonderful artichoke quiche) and got a vegetarian sandwich for lunch to go. Both were terrific.
Whidbey Island has numerous towns and neighborhoods. Oak Harbor is the main town for the Naval Air Station Base which is located on the island. Depending on your location, the flight pattern may be part of your Whidbey experience. The occasional flyovers in the pattern didn’t bother me. On the contrary, I wanted to watch the touch and goes!
I had pictured Oak Harbor rather differently; more quaint perhaps. It’s more of a charming but practical center for the military stationed on the island. Which means good supermarkets and other support industries, as well as restaurants and a weekly farmers market.
South of Oak Harbor is Coupeville, located in Ebey’s Landing National Historical Reserve which harbors this historic area. Interestingly the Reserve is an unusual combination of federal, state and private property, administered by a local trust that was started 1978.
In addition to the downtown historic district, Fort Casey and Fort Ebey Parks are also included in this trust. Ebey was established as a coastal defense port during World War II. Fort Casey dates back to the late 1800’s when it was established as a part of a trio of defense fortifications, to guard the Puget Sound entry.
Main Street in Coupeville, Whidbey Island
Coupeville was welcoming from the start. The man in the tourist information shop was happy to share some “must do’s” on the island. And just across the way is the museum. The man at the desk shared his life knowledge as well. And what a remarkable set of stories he had to tell.
What struck me so strongly was the incredible cultural loss we are facing as the World War II vets leave us. This is a generation that sacrificed and prospered as their generation rolled through the population. These are men of their times; who experienced personal risk and reward; who have given the rest of us such a precious cultural legacy. The knowledge that lives in this generation is priceless. How do we preserve it, for ourselves, and for our children and grand children?
“Those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it.”- Edmund Burke
“You should write a book, or do a blog,” I said to the museum man. “Your life is an amazing story; your children and grandchildren will really want to have those stories.”
“I’d have to go back to Germany, go to the top of a mountain, to get into the right mindset to do that,” he replied thoughtfully, thinking back over decades of personal history that intertwined with that of the world. Thinking of his wartime experiences that started him off on a most remarkable life path. After the war he pursued a career in technology that took his to many interesting places with many prominent people. It’s the story of a lifetime, and of a life well lived, and I hope he writes it down for his grandchildren. It’s a precious, priceless legacy.
Coupeville is rich in history and resources. And Penn Cove mussels which grows and distributes mussels, clams and 27 varieties of Pacific Oysters!
Boats stored outside the museum in Coupeville, Whidbey Island
Coupeville, Whidbey Island
Boat on the dock at Coupevvlle, Whidbey Island
***
Langley, Whidbey Island
Like all of the Puget Sound, Whidbey’s earliest settlers were native people who depended upon the rich regional resources for their survival and livelihood. Vancouver and subsequent explorers opened the area to the west. Today, Whidbey is being populated by retirees, Seattle commuters and urban refugees, particularly on the south end of the island where the mainland is an easy ferry ride away.
Main Street Langley, Whidbey Island
Langley is a town on the south end of the island overlooking the Sarasota Passage that sports urban quality art galleries in a beautiful island setting. Again, it is the kindness of the people that strikes me. A woman in an art gallery takes the time to chat and talk about life on the island. She tells me about a woman who moved here from Napa and points me to a small development of cottages at the edge of town to get a sense of island life. Another talks to me about her health and her decision to become a functional medicine coach. Everyone has a story.
Walkway to an art gallery in Langley, south end of Whidbey Island
Plus wonderful art galleries, restaurants, and more line the street. If I had more time here, I’d like to stay a while and get a sense of this lovely town on the southern tip of Whidbey Island.
Here are a few pictures. Follow me on my Instagram account (@CanncerRoadTrip) where many more will be posted.
Sculpture outside an art gallery on the main street, Langley
Closeup of sculpture outside gallery in Langley on Whidbey Island
Bronze sculpture surveying the scenery, seaside, in Langley, Whidbey Island
***
Whidbey Island, Deception Pass
Deception Pass was named “Deception” because the land it appeared to be a peninsula, not an island, and finding the straight was at first difficult. In addition, varying depths made for eddies and funky currents, neither of which assisted in the early navigation and mapping of the island.
Today two bridges span the Juan de la Fuca Straight, both of which are on the National Historic Register. My hosts have recommended a boat trip through the straight and into the sea for views of the passage as well as wildlife. This is my mission this morning: to get on the water.
The tour, by Deception Pass Tours, can be booked online, or at a small roadside on the east side of Route 20. The boat leaves from the dock at Deception Pass State Park, just down from the Airbnb where I’m stayng. Captain Brett is a U.S. Coast Guard certified captain and he guides the tour in an Island Whaler which offers 360 degree views.
Wildlife, ranging from porpoises and seals to the occasional whale are pretty typical. A massive eagles nest hangs in the fork of a tree en route through the passage. Here are a few of the views I enjoyed during the tour:
Seal enjoying a salmon dinner at Deception Pass, Whidbey Island
The Deception Pass bridge to Whidbey Island viewed from the water
The boat launching area, Deception Pass Park
Gorilla Rock, a rock outcropping near Deception Pass, as seen from the sea (Can you see the “gorilla”?)
And a few of my favorite photos of Whidbey Island, where I will most certainly be returning:
My favorite Whidbey Island evening walk down to the old ferry landing
Flowers along the roadside to the old ferry landing
A view of the distant mountains from Whidbey Island
Sunset on Whidbey Island, Deception Pass
I have to say that I’m totally taken by Whidbey Island. I’m tempted to come back during the winter when it’s grey and raining to see how I feel about it under those conditions. Because this is a place that resonates with my soul. From the fresh open air to the stunning sunsets, Whidbey is special. But most of all it’s been the friendliness of the people that have really turned my head. But then again, in a setting like this, perhaps the world can slow a bit, enough for people to take the time to chat and visit and care. My thanks to everyone on the island whose kindness and care made this a very special visit.
Follow @CancerRoadTrip on Instagram for many more pictures!
In Vancouver, I awake at dawn, as the sky starts to light, ready to make my getaway to the mountains, to Whistler. It is early Sunday morning and Chinatown is quiet. It’s rained, leaving a fine mist on the sidewalk. Tents from the street fair the day before still line the streets, and two police chat at the bottom of the blockaded road, keeping an eye on things. Other than an occasional pedestrian walking , it is still.
I dread the bill at the parking garage. There is a Parking Meister who stalks the over night parkers, even though overnight parking is allowed. I suspect he is an older Chinese man, fit from walking the parking garage, who methodically goes from floor to floor, exerting his authority. He leaves pink slips with notes on the windshield, even though the parking ticket is visible on the dash. I don’t understand why he does this. Nor does the ticket taker at the gateway out.
No matter. The smoke from the British Columbia fires that has blanketed the Pacific Northwest is breaking and I’m desperately in need of some sleep which I hope will be inspired by the mountain air in Whistler, as the winds shift. I walk down to the garage, take the elevator up two floors to may car. I throw the bags in the back seat, depress the clutch, turn the key and the car starts. Even at her age, the sound of her engine inspires.
I wind my way down to the ticket taker. But it’s early and she isn’t at the station yet. So I try the autopay machine, which failed to take my ticket upstairs. But it accepts it here at the exit to the garage, and now I discover why the Parking Meister has been stalking me. Without the pink slip which he leaves on the windshield and which I obediently give to the ticket taker, the machine only charges me for a few hours!
The heat and the smoke are dissipating.
I’ve unwittingly outwitted the Parking Meister!
Life is looking good.
Onto Whistler.
The Sea to Sky Highway is aptly named. Highway 99, it’s numerical moniker, does not do it justice.
Highway 99, Sea to Sky, from Vancouver to Whistler
It’s a highway sandwiched between the sea and the mountains. It broadens into a highway, then narrows in places to a winding two way road. Vast metal netting hangs over the cliffs to trap the falling boulders as nature works her way with the earth. It’s a road worthy of attention, both for the scenery and for the winding, fun drive. My trusty BMW, a 2002 all wheel drive station wagon, has a five speed stick, and she loves these roads. As do I.
It’s a moody day with low hanging clouds and spritzes of drizzle. Clouds linger over mountainous islands that seem to grow from a turquoise sea. The land is clearly living, almost as if it’s breathing as it arises from the sea. The views from the drive are beyond stunning.
Whistler, site of the 2010 Winter Olympics, is an easy hour drive north of Vancouver. Four wheel drive in the winter, but on a summer’s day, you simply get to enjoy. The road morphs from highway to two lanes and back again as it navigates a narrow path between the sea and the mountains. On this rainy day, clouds settle atop the mountains, so sightseeing along the way may be limited.
Which suits me just fine. I have my eye on some hiking and an afternoon at the spa when I get to Whistler. I want to enjoy the peace of the mountains after a hot, smoky week in the city.
***
I arrive early, too early to check in, so I park in one of the common lots. Ten dollars for the day. A bargain compared to Vancouver where parking one day cost $60.
Except that the machine charges me $50.
Is this some sort of parking karma for eluding the Parking Meister in Vancouver? I try to shrug it off, but I’m tired from a week of no sleep. I come to the wise conclusion that it’s Sunday, so nothing can be done anyway.
Given the weather, a visit to the Audain Museum seems like a good idea. The 56,000 square foot modern building is sleek and it settles into the land as if part of it. Inside glass corridors look out onto forest. It’s peaceful and stunning. Michael Audain, philanthropist and collector, built this $30 million dollar building to house his collection of almost 200 works of British Columbia art from the 18th to the 21st century. The building was designed by the award winning Patkau Architects of Vancouver. Lead architect John Patkau explains some of the challenges involved:
“To respond to primeval forces like floods and snow in the context of a west coast forest’, explains John Patkau, ‘we had to make a strong and simple design that fit into the site and drifted into apertures in existing trees.”
I enter and share my petty parking woes with the young woman at the desk. She tells me to contact the municipality. “I’m sure they’ll take care of it,” she reassures me. Like so much of my Canada experience, she seems fresh and polite, positive and kind.
I realize that my lack of sleep is seriously interfering with my perspective just now. I take a deep breath and let it go. Little did I know I should be prepared to take an even deeper breath when I entered the gallery, because the Dancing Screen in the first room will take your breath away.
The Dancing Screen, Audain Art Museum, Whistler, BC
Close up of the Dancing Screen
This screen fills the room. Intricate carvings, creatures and aqua gilded fish are immediately captivating. I am told that part of the screen opens to reveal a doorway through.
In addition to this magnificent piece of Pacific Northwest art, the museum displays 39 different First Nation masks created by the Coast Salish, Haida, Nisga’a, Haida, Tsimshian, Kwakwaka’wakw, Nuxalx, Gitk’san, Tlingit, Heiltsuk, Nuu-chah-nulth, and Nuxalk nations.
It also houses works of renown Canadian artist Emily Carr and contemporary photographer Edward Byrtynski’s series The Scarred Earth.
This collection of First Nation art is just as stunning as the Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coastal Art. It is truly a world class collection. Between runs on the ski hill, or trips to the spa, be sure to put this amazing collection on your Whistler itinerary.
First Nation Mask
***
Whistler Village
Whistler Village is thoughtfully designed. Like most ski towns, it’s a combination of shops and restaurants strategically placed around plazas, with lodging above. But Whistler did an exceptionally good job in designing this outdoor “mall”. The architecture isn’t too heavy. It’s on the eclectic side, with contemporary tones which, to me, feel much better than the heavy mountain designs of some ski villages that, in time, I think will feel dated. There is plenty of open space and vistas of the surrounding mountains. And the unexpected addition of outstanding art offers interest beyond the outdoors.
But the outdoors is what Whistler is about. This weekend there is mountain bike race and the crowds gather around the finish line at the base of one of the hills.
Bikes for rent in Whistler Village
From the 2010 Winter Olympics, a look at this phenomenal ski town in its winter element:
Whistler is beyond beautiful, but for me it evokes mixed feelings. I look at daring ski runs that I won’t ski and it brings back many ski memories from other mountains. I was a very good skier. I once had someone stop me and comment on how graceful I looked skiing a mogul field. And I loved moguls. Not the nearly vertical Volkswagen sized bumps, but the more moderate fields where you could choose a line and follow it through the terrain. There is a certain grace and elegance of being in the flow as you navigate the slope. I’m lucky to have experienced it, but I also feel the loss.
Whistler/Backcomb ski runs
There is something about the mountains that I just love. The towering rock descending to water. The wild abandon of a river coursing through the woods. I think its the primitive experience of the elements and the outdoors that touch me so. I fell in love with the Sierras my first night at the Truckee airfield so many years ago, and that mountain love is part of my heart and soul.
Normally hiking is high on the agenda, but this trip is short, and I need to adjust to the weather, welcome rain, that is clearing the skies of soot and smoke. I scale back my ambitions and head to Green Lake.
My urban walking poles go almost everywhere with me.
My Urban Poling walking sticks come along. I have really fallen for these things. They keep me upright; provide a bit of balance and support. and help create a brisk tempo for my expedition. I like to walk under any circumstances, but I love walking with these.
The area is full of easy walking paths and campgrounds that line the river. Signs warn of bear-safe camping. And not far away is Green Lake. The area sports a golf course, restaurant and (best of all!) a seaplane base. I have a thing for seaplanes. Part romance (think Pan Am Clipper or the Dornier WW II amphibian , a DO-24ATT, in which I did splash and goes in Tahoe!), part adventure, if it has floats (or is amphibian), count me in! :
Seaplane taking off on Green Lake
The seaplane base for rides of the valley and the glacier
A view of Green Lake from the walking path
From here, it’s a short walk to the entry of Scandinavie Spa:
Normally I’m not a spa person, but this afternoon I need the relaxation of moving from hot to cold and back again; from pool to sauna; from a chair around the fire, to a deep massage. Sitting in the warm sunshine, in the cool mountain air. I leave feeling wonderfully relaxed and rested.
As an aside, my parking overcharge was gracefully and swiftly handled by the municipality. (So kindly Canadian!) Apparently this happens often. So I can rest assured it’s not a personal parking karma thing!
Karma once brought me to the Sierras where I spent eighteen wonderful years. I first moved into a rented condo in Incline Village, and then down to southwest Reno, where my house looked up at the Sierras. I’d watch the sun rise and her light spread from the top of the hills down to their base. I’d watch the wave clouds form, presaging a frontal weather passage. Snow hugged the peaks during winter and created a raging Truckee River for tubing during the rest of the season. Mountain areas are wonderful.
While I love mountain towns, I have to wonder if this phase of my life has passed me by. The excitement of the Whistler Village after a long day on the slopes is no longer mine. The crowd is the age I was, not so long ago. Our elders always talk about how time passes, but it’s not until we experience it ourselves do we realize the brevity of this experience. Part of my heart will always live in this terrain, and part of my soul will always ski bumps and will always fly airplanes. I consider myself lucky to have these pieces of my soul in my heart, now and always.
“There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your own heart. So you’d better learn the sound of it. Otherwise you’ll never understand what it’s saying.” -Sarah Dessen, Just Listen
I had considered writing a long post, about all the different oysters I’ve tried at various places. I’ve conscienciously jotted down all the names and my thoughts on each. But let me simply cut to the chase.
There is always a trade off between price, ambiance and quality. I love a dive bar with great food. I love to save a bit of money, particularly on the road. But there are times when the most upscale, seemingly expensive establishment is the way to go. And it may be no more expensive than many other options.
After nearly a week of smoke and heat, combined with stale cooking odors and no sleep, I desperately needed some self care, and for me that often involves a good meal. I’d scoped out the seafood restaurants in town and had at least a mental list of those that I’d like to try if they worked into my itinerary.
YEW Seafood + Bar was one of them. And it just happened to be located in the Four Seasons, just across the way from the Gallery with the Monet exhibit. And it just happens to be wonderfully air conditioned and a refuge from the smoke outside.
The downstairs lobby is busy with people coming and going. An escalator leads up to the main lobby, and tucked discreetly off to the side is YEW. Their mantra:
Modern. Coastal. Social.
Yew’ll be hooked.
And hooked I am.
Oysters at YEW Seafood + Bar, Four Seasons, Vancouver BC
I sat at the bar (what’s new!) and perused the menu. But of course, oysters to start. If this is to be a decadent take-care-of-myself-luncheon, it calls for oysters.
Six perfect oysters with lemon and mignonette. I need this. I feel the soot and the heat that have settled in my throat. But the cool brininess is taking over, one oyster at a time, and life is feeling good again.
It’s beautiful; it’s cool in the restaurant. The bartender is friendly and helpful without being intrusive. The restaurant has the hum of a well run, happy establishment.
It’s not inexpensive, but not overly expensive either. Either way, on this hot, smokey day, I do not care. It gives me respite from that nasty condo where I am supposed to sleep.
After six perfect oysters, leaving is still not on my agenda. I’m hungry and it’s hot and smokey outside.
I order a Salade Nicoise.
Salade Nicose for me is both health food and comfort food. It has many of my favorite elements: greens, eggs, green beans, Mediterranean olives, potatoes, and of course tuna. Perhaps a hint of anchovy. To sing, it needs to have the ingredients drawn together with just the right touch of richness and tang in the dressing. Each item has to shine, yet happily compliment all the others.
This salad can be bold and peasanty, or more elegant and refined.
The Four seasons version of the salad arrives. It is beautifully constructed and arranged. It falls somewhere between the peasant version (which I usually make at home) and Riviera elegance. I dip my fork into the greens.
Perfection.
Salade Nicoise, Four Seasons, Vancouver BC
The egg is perfected boiled, a bit on the soft side; the black olives are pitted and not too salty; and just the smallest bit of perfect white anchovy is interspersed in the greens.
Four large pieces of barely seared tuna sit atop the salad.
I realize I am starved. With each bite, I get another combination of lovely ingredients, prepared and presented perfectly. The quality of the tuna is outstanding It’s so fresh, and fork tender. I consider repeating this meal every day until I leave for Whistler.
The perfect end to the perfect lunch at Yew, Four Seasons, Vancouver
I finish off lunch with an espresso with lemon peel. Just the way I like it. It’s real espresso, done right.
Life is good again.
I love nice surroundings. I am comfortable there. I recall the vast sitting areas in the Madrid Ritz with the glass ceiling high above; the (formerly) shabby chic of the Algonquin; the grounds overlooking the Aegean at Lagonissi, where I spent many a summer.
Then it hits me.
Hard.
I haven’t done this for a while. Since, well, cancer.
This simple meal speaks volumes to me. About my life trajectory, my expectations and my experiences of recent years.
The stock market and real estate market tanked, just as I was starting my first round of treatment. I went from a paper net worth of millions, to not so much. Out of fear and a need for cash for cancer treatment, I pulled money from the market. My investment advisor fired me. I realized later that he didn’t make a commission on anything that sat in cash (and his “firing” me was probably illegal). I should have known that, but at the time I was consumed with a diagnosis of incurable cancer. I faced an uncertain future on so many levels. The antics of my investment advisor who had just lost half of my portfolio were hardly my major concern.
Like most cancer patients, I felt helpless. Helplessness over the uncertainty of the entire situation; helplessness over the outcome of treatment and the after effects of the drugs; helplessness over the mounting costs; helplessness as the tech creeps walked off with my hard earned intellectual property.
Sitting in the Vancouver Four Seasons having this perfect meal, I realize that I deserve many more perfect meals. I deserve a different life trajectory than the one of recent years.
A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
The Price of Perfection
I also realized that by “indulging” in this perfect meal, it cost me no more than many not so perfect meals of late. Some of the establishments that I visited pitched dollar oysters, then did a bait and switch. The type of oyster offered for a dollar was hardly a Kumamoto. I often ended up with a plate of very mediocre oysters that cost me nearly as much as this perfect lunch.
So where’s the moral in the story? To paraphrase the famous Cyndi Lauper song:
“And girls they wanna have lunch Oh girls just want to have lunch…”
Preferably at the Four Seasons.
To the Four Seasons Vancouver and Yew, my heart felt thanks on many levels!
Inspiration, joy & discovery through travel. Oh, did I mention with supposedly incurable cancer?
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CancerRoadTrip is about making lemonade out of lemons.
As you read my story, you may want to start at the beginning to "grok" how CancerRoadTrip came to be. You can click here to start at the end (which is actually the beginning) and read forward! The posts are chronological, with the most recent posts appearing on the front page.
From Amazon:
Straight on Til Morning: The Life of Beryl Markham by Mary S. Lovell
From Amazon:
From Amazon,
China Clipper: The Age of the Great Flying Boats by Robert Gandt
From Amazon:
The Pan Am Clipper – The History of Pan American’s Flying-Boats 1931 to 1946
From Amazon:
(A Full 5 Stars!) From Amazon:
Yeager: An Autobiography by Chuck Yeager and Leo Janos
From Amazon:
From Amazon:
From Amazon:
From Amazon:
From Amazon:
The Spirit of St. Louis
The Spirit of St. Louis
A Guy Named Joe
Interstellar
Apollo 13
Space Cowboys
Top Gun
Looking back is fun, but looking ahead right now is a bit disturbing. The recycling of these themes is, according to William Strauss and Neil Howe, part of the cycle of history. They tackle this topic of generational recycling of ideas and trends in their book 
Then I turn south on 20 towards Deception Pass and that first impression is gone. Winding roads sweep through deep forest and open to the bridge at Deception Pass. I stop. A young man is flying a 
