Of the few stores situated on Anguilla, I saw two that were named “Limin’,” and they were wildly different. One was a boutique that sold high-end, brightly covered beach apparel and jewelry. The other was a large, run-down grocery store that sold the likes of Spam, sweetened bread rolls and coconuts.

It took me longer than I care to admit to sound it out — “limin’” I thought, pronouncing it aloud with a short “i” like I was saying “Tim.”

“No, liiiimin’,” corrects my cab driver and native Anguillian, Lowell, while maneuvering his van along one of the few thin streets in the country. “You know. Call up your buddy, ask what they’re up to. They’ll say, ‘Nothing, just limin’.'”

Limin’ means hanging out. Chilling on a porch. Shooting the shit with friends. While the term is used throughout the Caribbean, on a recent visit to this tiny, 16-mile-long island located off the coast of St. Maarten, I realized that “limin’” is an ideal way to describe Anguilla.

“Here we sell a whole lot of nothing,” says Lowell, as we drive past scraggly overgrown yards that contain goats tied up on pegs, rusting cars and the occasional, brilliant bougainvillea vine.

He’s kind of right. While other islands in the Caribbean would have been packed with tourists over spring break, Anguilla seemed empty. Beaches were void of crowds and chatter. Nobody tried to sell me anything — not even a wooden trinket carved into a turtle or marijuana joints the size of cigars, like the onslaught of vendors I have endured on other islands that cater to the cruise crowd while “limin’” at the beach.

While you can definitely sprawl, cocktail-in-hand, on white sand for days, there is an unexpected energy to Anguilla that makes it a uniquely interesting place to visit. There’s a wildness to this island that complements rather than contradicts its cerulean seas, five-star hotels and fancy restaurants.

For example, time your trip right and you’ll experience Festival del Mar, a bustling seafood festival that takes place over Easter weekend. With over 15 vendors, this small but growing gathering of locals and tourists alike jives with folks noshing on fragrant seafood soup, johnny cakes (fried dough accouterments about the size and shape of small bagels) and some of the largest spiny grilled lobsters you’ve ever seen — brushed with spiced butter and plated with lemon halves.

Nobody serving rum punch, the island’s beverage of choice, seemed to know what it was actually made with. Maybe some sort of fruit juice? I never found out, something that would have bothered me in my food-conscious home city of Boulder. But, hey, I’m limin’ man. Sure, I’ll have a rum punch, pineapple from concentrate, be damned.

This is what Anguilla does to you. It prompts you to release. Just be. I whole-heartedly adopted this attitude.

One afternoon, my group and I aimed to have lunch at Scilly Cay, a miniscule island — we’re talking a shack and a couple palm trees, here — located within sight of Festival del Mar. To get there, guidebooks say to walk down to the end of the dock and wave your arms in the air “like an idiot” (that’s literally in the guidebook) in the general direction of the island. We did as told. Eventually, a small blue-and-white motorboat roared up and locals and tourists crowded in. At Scilly Cay, we ordered grilled chicken, more lobster, more snapper, pasta salad, garlic bread and yes, more rum punch.

There are fancier ways to “lime” while in Anguilla, too.

I spent the duration of my stay at the Sheriva Villa Accommodations, a collection of luxury houses that featured up to eight bedrooms each. When checking in, I found that my room is not a bedroom but a suite, complete with a king bed that overlooks the ocean, a kitchenette, a Jacuzzi tub and a shower that had several spouts (umm, even one that’s derriere high — what’s that all about?). In the morning, I practiced yoga on both (yes, there were two) private balconies.

If you really want to splurge, stay at the newly built Zemi Beach House, a gorgeous resort with 63 rooms and one of the most impressive open-air spas I’ve ever seen. Have lunch or dinner at Zemi’s 20 Knots restaurant, which dishes out freshly caught seafood served in a style I’ll describe as “sophisticated casual.” Think yellowfin tuna ceviche served with potato salad, and grilled corn mixed with feta and fresh herbs. The restaurant overlooks the award-winning Shoal Bay East, a beach praised by top travel magazines for its powdered-sugar sand, diminutive waves and textbook turquoise water. It’s impressive, to say the least.

Fancy accommodations and delicious meals are great, but most Caribbean islands have beautiful beaches and hotels and good food.

Anguilla is different because it makes space. The country gives you time to think.

It motivates you to sit at dusk and notice how you can see increasingly more stars at every passing moment. It gives you time to stand for an hour, as I did one day, looking at the ocean crash upon jagged rocks and unpack thoughts usually masked by work or errands or relationships. In Anguilla, I dove into the chasms of my own mind and thought about the person I wanted to be, not the person I’ve been told I should be.

Don’t visit Anguilla if you want to hike or run or mountain bike or rock climb. And don’t visit this island to read, either. Put down the book. Turn off your cell phone.

Instead, go down to the shore and stare into the brilliant blue-green sea. You’ll find your answers there.

Stay

If traveling in a group . . .
Sheriva Villa Accomodations
Villasatsheriva.com

If you’re a foodie fanatic . . .
CuisineArt Gold Resort & Spa
Cuisinartresort.com

If you’re looking for some serious R&R . . .
Zemi Beach House Resort & Spa
Zemibeach.com

Eat

For masterfully prepared Japanese food…
Toyko Bay
Cuisinartresort.com/Tokyo-Bay

For upscale fare with a beach-chic vibe…
Blanchards Restaurant
Blanchardsrestaurant.com

For authentic Anguillian brunch…
Tasty’s Restaurant
Tastysrestaurant.com

For French-Thai-Japanese fusion with a mind-blowing view…
Hibernia Restaurant & Art Gallery
Hiberniarestaurant.com

About the Author

By Jenna Blumenfeld /

Jenna Blumenfeld is a Boulder, Colorado-based writer and editor with a knack for creative and captivating storytelling. A deadline-driven wordsmith, she mostly covers food, travel, and outdoor sports. When not writing, Jenna can be found skiing, rock climbing or road cycling. Check out her work at JennaBlumenfeld.com.

The post Learning To Lime In Anguilla appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

Some say the remote mountain town of Telluride earned its name from the phrase, “To Hell You Ride.” Well, if this is Hell, I better start sinning.

About seven hours from Denver, Telluride is nestled into the fourteener-heavy San Juan Mountain range. The mountains are believed to be much younger than the Rockies, and haven’t experienced nearly as much erosion. You can tell.

The mountains are taller, steeper and more jagged than other mountain ranges in Colorado, making the ski area next to the town particularly attractive to expert skiers and riders.

Telluride was once a flourishing mining community. Head to the edge of town to see the old cemetery. Many headstones bear engravings of miners who perished during Telluride’s heyday in the late 1800’s.

Despite Telluride’s remoteness and high elevation of 8,750 feet, many local restaurants source their ingredients as sustainably as possible. Case in point, The Butcher and The Baker, a small breakfast and lunch cafe, uses peaches from the Western Slope’s Palisade, purple basil and fresh mozzarella to make a simple, elegant salad.

Wild mushrooms flourish in the mountains surrounding Telluride, and some chefs wild-forage them to incorporate into their menus. Late summer is prime time for mushroom harvesting. If there’s consistent rainfall, expect to bring back bags of mushrooms.

Here’s a perfect porcini mushroom, also called Boletus edulis.

After a cold, damp morning of mushroom foraging, Chad Scothorn, founder and head chef of the Cosmopolitan restaurant, fixes a grilled cheese sandwich with trumpet-shaped chanterelles, tomatoes and house-made mozzarella. Scothorn offers a huge variety of cuisines, ranging from sushi to risotto to filets.

The San Miguel River leading into Telluride is lauded for world-class fly fishing. New to the area? Hire a guide from Telluride Outside — they’ll show you the hot spots.

I actually caught a brown trout!

Telluride  is dominated by summer festivals and concerts. The outside venue provides a dramatic backdrop to hear bluegrass, funk or, in this writer’s case, Thievery Corporation. Plus, the venue is home to the world’s very best photo-bombers. Go there!

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com. You can follow Jenna on Twitter here: @JennaBlumenfeld, or via Google+.

The post 10 Gorgeous Photos From My Trip To Telluride appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

The Problem

After two years of living in Boulder, it’s easy (albeit somewhat embarrassing) to see how much I’ve imbibed in the Republic’s Kool-Aid.

Within a month of being in Colorado, I realized that I have nowhere near enough gear. Upon arrival, I immediately bought a road bike. I’ve been a proud owner of not one, but two Epic Vail ski passes. Furthermore, without proper camping gear, my social life would be nonexistent. I added a tent, a sleeping bag and a sleeping pad to my quiver of supplies.

I readily extol the virtues of Subarus, Birkenstocks, Australian Shepherds, kale and legalized marijuana to anyone who will listen.

Fueled by the plethora of Boulder-based startups and PhD candidates meandering about on Pearl St., I’ve also adopted a restless spirit of entrepreneurial distress. More than once I’ve woken up in a cold sweat, heart beating hard, wondering why I haven’t launched my own company yet, written a book or attained a degree in optical engineering.

Do you want to know my deep, dark secret? I feel a nagging pressure to be outstandingly amazing. It’s difficult to shake the feeling that there’s always something better — something more intelligent, more philanthropic — that I should be working towards. Along with the camping supplies, the Subaru and the bike, my dear Boulder has made me so friggin’ anxious about an unwittingly wasted potential.

The Result

So in true Boulderite fashion, I recently quit my gym and joined a yoga studio.

I had taken yoga before to get in shape — little else worked my arms and legs so hard. And being more flexible is beneficial for running, hiking, biking, etc . . . But after two months of taking yoga classes almost every day, something odd happened: I felt a shift. I didn’t just understand what my yoga teachers were saying during asanas, I embodied it. For example, chanting “om” at the beginning of class is no longer an embarrassing cliche that I try to avoid, but a grand, unifying gesture that severs the outside material world from the inner one — the world on my mat and the world inside me.

Practicing yoga helps me realize something higher that I have always known was there, but never had the avenue to access. I’m not talking about God. I’m talking about a deeper way of communicating with myself and with the natural world. (Oh my, if that sentence wasn’t forged by the mind of a hippie . . .)

Now I can’t get enough of yoga.

Next week, I plan to hone my new-found yogic zeal by attending the Wanderlust Festival, taking place at Copper Mountain. I’ll relax, I’ll meditate, I’ll hike, I’ll dance to music, and obviously I’ll take lots of yoga classes with names like “Groundation: You Have Arrived,” “Chakras In Action,” and curiously, “Slackline Yoga.”

There, I’ll report on what I see, what I eat, what I feel, what I hear and what I learn, even if my only revelation is that I’ll never be able to do yoga on a slackline, let alone stand on one. Check back soon for my reports.

[Photo by Lulu Lemon/Flickr]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post I’m Pretty Sure Colorado Is Turning Me Into A Hippie appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

You might assume that most global citizens have had enough of Psy, the infamous rapper who, if he didn’t invent his signature “gallop” dance, certainly resurrected it. You may think this genius of a man has been transformed into something even more obsolete than a teeny-bopper’s “so over” description: gasp, a meme.

Though Psy has garnered a record-breaking billion-plus YouTube views for his hit “Gangnam Style,” in a world of rapid turnover, this international superstar is a little dated, at least in the United States. However, in his home country of South Korea, Psy’s influence still reigns — even if his signature song isn’t constantly blared in every club, as was mandatory in Stateside bars when the song first caught on.

Love him or hate him, Psy has sparked worldwide interest in South Korea. What previously resided in American minds as North Korea’s progressive older sibling, South Korea is increasingly regarded as a bona fide hotspot for experiencing K-pop culture and luxury beyond what Las Vegas has to offer, particularly in Seoul’s storied Gangnam neighborhood.

“In Gangnam’s Apgujeong neighbourhood, K-pop stars are delivered to their entertainment companies’ headquarters in gleaming black Hyundai Starex people-movers with tinted windows,” notes the Sydney Morning Herald, “while Seoul’s super-rich worship at the flashy temples of luxury fashion lining a boulevard of dreams dubbed ‘yuppie street.’”

Endless mounds of fun seem to be had in Seoul. In the SMH article, the Gangnam District is described as home to trendy clubs to which only sub-30, super-rich glamazons may enter, karaoke-fueled bars and non-negotiable shots of soju paired with silkworm larvae snacks. Frankly, a Friday night in Seoul’s Gangnam District seems like a night I would like to experience at least once in my life. Of course I would be armed with a fistful of cash, an outfit akin to a disco ball and a well-rehearsed K-pop song primed for karaoke. When in Rome, right?

But there’s something about Seoul’s newfound attraction that’s unsettling. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth — what I imagine to be the flavor of silkworm larvae.

Are we so blind to the interesting, unique parts of the world that a stupid (there, I said it) pop song is the catalyst that places it on our radar? I confess, I didn’t give Seoul — let alone Gangnam — much thought prior to viewing Psy’s video an embarrassing number of times.

I suppose this phenomenon is nothing new. After Editor-in-Chief Matt Stabile’s favorite book by Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love, was published, Bali experienced a surge in tourism by “mostly 40-something female travelers who’ve arrived looking for their own spiritual enlightenment and time to put in on their own soon-to-be bestsellers,” as an earlier article on The Expeditioner reports. Likewise, Seoul had 11.1 million visitors in 2012, “a figure that was up 13.4 percent on 2011,” according to the country’s Culture Minister.

Maybe Seoul is the new Mecca for techno-loving, wealthy club kids. Let’s not forget that people have been traveling to far flung places they’ve never heard of on the basis of an idea and a somewhat-trusted tip. For example, The Lord of the Rings movie trilogy spurred a massive increase in travel to New Zealand. The Oregon Trail, the California Gold Rush, Columbus’s New World — this is not a new story.

So perhaps it’s unwarranted to be frustrated by this wave of Gangnam tourism. I implore you, book a flight if you wish. But for the sake of your own pride, at the very least, tell family and friends you’re going there for the culture — not to learn the gallop dance.

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post Psy Fans Gallop To Gangnam District (And Why I’m Not Happy About It) appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

The Himalayan Stove Project is one of those organizations that mediates a need most westerners don’t even know is an issue. Sure, we hear about world tragedies on the news: poverty, war and natural disasters. These are noteworthy, pressing problems in need of media attention and aid. But it’s rare that a nonprofit has the intelligence to not only address a dire problem (a problem that wouldn’t be on the radar of any #firstworldproblem twitterer), but also to offer a perfect, tried-and-true solution.

According to the World Health Organization (WHO), nearly 3 billion people cook meals on stoves using biomass materials, such as wood or animal dung. The majority of this cooking takes place indoors, especially in high-altitude, frigid regions such as, you guessed it, the Himalayas.

Byproducts of cooking stoves are dangerous when inhaled. Indeed, indoor air pollution is the fourth-most deadly ailment in the world behind malaria, unclean water and HIV/AIDs. And because they spend more time cooking inside their hut, yurt, tent or shack, women and kids are impacted the most. Some sources even estimate that indoor air pollution causes 900,000 child deaths per year due to respiratory illnesses such as pneumonia. That’s something you don’t have to worry about when firing up a Viking range.

While it’s a complex problem, the solution is quite simple, at least in theory: distribute a cooking stove that burns cleanly and efficiently. You eliminate indoor smog. You save fuel. You cook food faster. Bada bing, bada boom.

George Basch, founder (and self-described “Chief Cook”) of the Himalayan Stove Project oversees the organization, which distributes the high-tech-sounding Envirofit G-3300 Cookstoves to people living in mountainous Himalayan regions. Remarkably, the stoves reduce harmful smoke and gases by 80 percent, slash cooking time by up to 50 percent, and conserve fuel (a few hefty sticks of wood) by 60 percent. These outstanding statistics render the cookstove life-changing to families previously cooking with traditional campfires and stoves.

*

To date, the Himalayan Stove Project has delivered roughly 1,400 stoves to people living in Nepal — an impressive feat considering the logistical challenges in transporting the stoves to their recipients. “There are two stages in the delivery process,” explains Basch. “Getting them from our warehouse in Kathmandu to the road head (i.e., end of the road), and then from there to the villages and homes where they are installed.”

During the first stage, Basch and his team use trucks, or baggage on public bus systems, though some areas are accessible only by airplane or helicopter. Basch encounters other obstacles when transporting the stoves. “Road conditions, monsoon season and winter — roads in Nepal range from mediocre to horrible, and many are impassable for months at a time, so we have to deal with those issues as well.”

During the second stage of delivery, stoves are either gathered from the road head by the villagers themselves or carried on the backs of porters (each stove weighs as little as 6 pounds, but they are somewhat bulky to carry).

Yaks, however, are out of the question. “They are rather rambunctious beasts,” says Basch. “They have a tendency to bang their loads around, trying to show that they’re the boss (they usually are – big and a trifle mean) so to date we’ve stayed away from using them – we want to deliver the stoves undamaged.” Noted: No yaks.

After having seen the profound impact his stoves can have on a person’s quality (and longevity) of life, Basch has big plans for the future.

There are roughly 26 million people living in Nepal who could greatly benefit from the stoves. With families averaging four people, that’s 6.5 million stoves — a massive figure. “We’ll never accomplish that, at least in my lifetime,” admits Basch. “But we’re going to chip away at it. Every time we raise enough money for a full container, about $175,000, we’ll bring in another one.”

*

And you can help. This season, the Himalayan Stove Project is offering a Mount Everest Commemorative Poster to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first five American mountaineers to reach Everest’s summit in May 1963, shown below.

Designed by artist Elizabeth Mercuri, the poster’s Art Deco-style depiction of Everest would make one awesome gift for the crunchy granola outdoor enthusiast in your life. I particularly like how the snowy ravine, I believe it’s the Khumbu Icefall, up to the summit is reminiscent of a dragon (anyone agree?). This puppy can be yours for a donation of $250, all profits go directly into the Himalayan Stove Project.

To support the region that has rendered travelers speechless for centuries, order your poster here.

[The Himalayan Stove Project]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post How Giving Nepalis The Gift Of Clean Cooking Helps Save Lives appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

It’s what every ski nut waits for. After the biking. After the hiking. After the fourteeners. After the sailing. These summer activities, while fun, have really only been holding place for the addictive sport of the winter season: skiing.

Wax your skis and polish your goggles, because the Colorado ski season is officially open. Well, at least one ski area is officially open. Yesterday, Arapahoe Basin unleashed its floodgates to the teeming mass of Gore-Tex-clad shredders, carvaholics, and yea, plain ‘ol skiers too.

While conditions were manufactured (there was a good deal of snow-making action occurring at the mountain), it really isn’t a point of how many runs were open, or how gnarly the slopes were. Rather, this signals the commencement of the Colorado season. No more must we putz aimlessly around our houses, pining for the days we can strap slabs to our feet and slide down a mountain.

Check out these photos. And refrain from lamenting that you weren’t there.

So how will you get to A-Basin this winter? Check out some of these deals on the horizon.

Try buying tickets on A-Basin’s website. “Current lift ticket window pricing will run through December 21, 2012, with adult (19+ years) full-day tickets priced at $64, youth (15-18 years) window tickets priced at $54 and child (6-14 years) window tickets priced at $32,” according to a press release.

Alternatively, try visiting our fave ski site, Liftopia, a website that offers comparatively low prices — especially if you have the foresight to buy them before peak season.

Or, you can kick it dirtbag style and skin up the mountain for free — most resorts are on public land.

Tune back to The Expeditioner in coming weeks for exclusive Colorado ski-scene coverage and to get your fix for winter sports.

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post Time To Rejoice, Arapahoe Basin Is Open appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

In 1820, Nathaniel Palmer discovered Antarctica when he was merely 22. Palmer was the captain of sealing ship Hero, and when he was in the area seeking more seals to fill the insatiable New England appetite for seal skins, he spotted the Antarctica Peninsula. In addition to imparting all 20-somethings with feelings of inadequacy (what were you doing at age 22?), his discovery served as a springboard for generations of wanderlust souls.

Indeed, the world’s fifth-largest icy continent has attracted the hardiest explorers. In one of the greatest adventure stories of all time, Ernest Shackleton and his crew survived for almost a year and a half on Antarctica, eating seal, penguin and whale meat as sustenance until a small group embarked for South Georgia island for rescue. In 1990 Will Steger’s team of five men and thirty-six huskies traversed 3,600 miles of glacial terrain to become the first humans to cross Antarctica on foot. 2001 saw the first crossing of Antarctica on skis by two women, Ann Bancroft and Liv Arnesen.

More recently, Antarctica has experienced a surge of visitors due to increased access: cruises, climate research trips and educational expeditions have made reaching Antarctica no longer the stuff of dreams, but also reality. One organization, Students on Ice Expeditions, combines traveling to Antarctica with educational sessions.

“Each student expeditioner will undoubtedly return home as an ambassador for the Antarctic, with a new understanding and respect for our planet, and an broadened perspective of the Earth as a global ecosystem,” reads the Students on Ice website.

Indeed, getting to Antarctica isn’t as tough as it used to be, according to a recent article in the The Sydney Morning Herald. Nah, it can be quite a lovely experience — and may only take a day of your time. Antarctica Sightseeing Flights has started to offer flights over Antarctica, departing from Australia. Seeing Antarctica from 3,000 meters sounds like an incredible experience.

“Enormous white fragments are strewn across the surface of the water for hundreds of kilometres,” the article observes. “Directly below, a pack of orcas is breaching foaming surf. I’m not on drugs. I am on a long-range Qantas 747 on a sightseeing tour over Antarctica and my short-range brain is trying to make sense of the unusual circumstances.” Throughout the duration of the flight, a bonafide polar explorer offers educational tidbits over the loudspeaker. Two meals are served.

*

Frankly, it sounds amazing, and I certainly wouldn’t give up the opportunity to experience the 14-hour flight — if it was on someone elses dime, of course.

This flight is one pretty penny. “Prices range across seven classes of travel, starting at $1,199 for an economy center seat (no seat rotation) and rising to $6,999 for ‘ice class,’” according to the piece.

And the pricing options are somewhat peculiar: It seems as if the economy seats don’t have a good view of Antarctica at all. If the whole point of the flight is to sightsee the continent, why would you pony up over $1,000 for subpar views?

Undoubtedly, any person who could see Antarctica first-hand would develop a new appreciation for the planet. The stunning photographs alone are enough to transform even a Fox News pundit into a climate change activist. If more people were able to see this beautiful land, would more people want to protect it? Would there be more stewards of environmental preservation?

But I have a sneaking suspicion I would feel ripped off if I were to only fly over Antarctica. I would want to walk on it; see the vast expanse and loneliness of the place; feel the wind whip across my face. Were I to venture to Antarctica, I would want to travel by boat through the turbulent Drake Passage; experience the nauseating roll of the waves. Heck, I wouldn’t mind upchucking a few times to seal the deal. Antarctica should be an adventure, not a luxury, and it should be a chore to get there.

Ultimately, Antarctica is remote for a reason, and the kind of people who internalize its specialness are certainly not the ones with the fattest wallets, but the ones with the most steadfast resolve.

[Photos by State Library of South Wales and HamishM]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post Antarctica Is Just A Flight Away, What Are You Waiting For? appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

It was Thursday morning and my cell phone lit up. I had a text.

“Look up Crestone Needle and let me know if you have the balls for that one.”

It was from my climbing friend Nick. I typed “14ers.com” into my browser — the go-to website for all things pertaining to Colorado’s storied fourteeners — and balked at the terrifying photos of Crestone Needle on my screen.

A fourteener is, quite simply, a mountain with an altitude of at least fourteen thousand feet. Colorado has 53 of them (although the number is disputed by some), and since it’s one of the most athlete-saturated states in the country (and the thinnest), attempting to hike them all is a popular goal among those in the climbing community.

I already had nine of these behemoths under my belt, but after seeing what climbing Crestone Needle entailed, climbing it this weekend was out of the question.

Crestone Needle is commonly listed in the “Most Difficult” category of hikes of all the fourteeners in Colorado, but I had yet to venture above the “Moderate” category. Exposed and consisting of Class 3 climbing — characterized by scrambles over craggy rocks — climbing helmets were a necessity. I didn’t even own a climbing helmet yet. Reports said it was extremely easy to lose the route on your way to the summit, and while it’s 11.25 miles long (a moderate distance for a fourteener), hikers would be gaining an unprecedented 4,400 feet of elevation.

Crestone Needle was dangerously close to being a technical climb, and the other fourteeners I had successfully “bagged” were, although grueling and challenging, no more than a particularly arduous trek up a trail — a trail any fit Zumba teacher could survive.

I resolved to come to a decision: No way was I doing the Needle. I grabbed my cell intending to gently sway my friend into choosing a less challenging weekend hike.

“Hmmm, looks pretty scary,” I texted.

I would be insane — and frankly moronic — if I agreed to climb Crestone Needle.

*

Two days later, I woke at 3:15 a.m., five minutes before my alarm blared its tortuous sound.

The night had been sleepless. Notwithstanding the atypical sweltering Colorado summer night, which rendered my sleeping bag a claustrophobic furnace, the majority of my evening was spent cowering in my tent.

Outside the thin, nylon fabric, I had heard the low din of growling from several woodland creatures. It was almost certainly from a posse of raccoons, but my mind morphed these cute, rabid bandits into black bears who had caught whiff of the remnants from the previous night’s shampoo. In the dead of night, I was convinced these beasts were moments away from swiping at the flowery scented stuff with an outstretched claw, leading to certain death, or at least severe disfigurement.

I roused myself from my tent, hearing Nick stir at the same time.

A boisterous guy from North Carolina who spoke with a twangy, southern accent and a vocabulary of cuss words that would make a sailor blush, I had met Nick several weeks ago while climbing Mt. Columbia, another fourteener. He was a huge fan of Oklahoma football, and rarely walked out of his house without sporting the team’s colors (orange jacket and orange trail shoes made the cut today). He was a good climbing partner.

I prepared to leave, tearing down my tent and jabbing my contact lenses into bloodshot eyes. I stuffed my backpack with water, squashed Clif bars and a rain jacket. I clipped my recently purchased helmet onto the outside of my pack. In the darkness of the moonless night, I double- and triple-checked that I had packed my sunglasses.

Nick and I flicked on our headlamps and stepped onto the trail. It would be hours before we saw the first hint of sunlight peeking over the Eastern horizon.

*

In a 2005 commencement address given at Kenyon College, author David Foster Wallace said, “In the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship.”

I was never a deeply religious person, but after seeing the day’s first tendrils of sunlight snaking through the clouds, I had found it. I had found my religion. You must believe in a higher power, in something greater than yourself, when the sky morphs from hues of gray to rays of orange, to red to a brilliant, piercing view.

We paused from our quick clip and soaked in the light, gaining energy from the sun.

*

I stretched my arm and blindly pawed the rock wall in search of a knobby, cold handhold. My feet were straddling a crack in the cliff plunging hundreds of feet down. I wrapped my fingers around the side of a boulder and heaved myself across the gully, bracing my shoulder against the rock. I was completely vertical, and I tried hard to stop myself from thinking about the injuries I would sustain if I fell.

I had climbed much harder routes than this in a rock climbing gym — in a gym I frequently hang upside down — but out here was different. The moves are essentially the same but the stakes are much higher. I exhaled sharply and started climbing, hyperaware of my surroundings. The air was much cooler at 13,000 feet than it had been at camp and the sun was blinding. I worried my face was getting burned.

We crested the top of the first gully, and the Needle came into view. The jagged, granite cliff was terrifying. Striated gray and black granite speared the sky and wispy clouds clung to the mountain’s ripped edge. A dense fog raced across the summit, alternatively concealing and revealing the peak.

We continued to climb.

In Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer’s recount of the 1996 disaster on Mt. Everest when eight people died in one expedition, he wrote that “doing this had almost nothing in common with being on a motorcycle at 180 miles per hour. Each movement was calculated and careful.”

As I climbed, the quote ran through my mind over and over again, ringing dead-on accurate as I methodologically maneuvered my way up the rocks. I couldn’t even say that my adrenaline was surging. My movements were nearly Zen-like; I could have been underwater.

*

The trail narrowed before the push for the summit. It was almost unperceivable, and seemed to be forged by Lucifer himself. It was steep; very steep, and I questioned the wisdom of continuing. Caught in this limbo, I wanted desperately to reach the top. I had been climbing for hours and I didn’t want to let this peak slip away from me. But then I’d look over my shoulder and see what a sketchy time I would have climbing back down.

My thoughts branched out, as they had been doing frequently throughout this hike, but this time, I didn’t try to reel them back in.

“What am I doing up here? How did I come to be on this mountain anyways?”

I questioned this over and over. “Why am I in Colorado at all?” I didn’t have roots here really—I had only been living in Boulder for a year. Self-doubt clouded my thoughts, and I struggled to push through them.

I remembered the first night I spent in Boulder, lying awake on an air mattress in a strange house—jobless and friendless in this new city—so homesick and unsure of my decision to move from the East Coast that I could barely breathe. In the darkness of my subleased bedroom I had choked back tears, confused why I had felt such a palpable tug towards the West. None of it had felt right in the beginning, and every instinct I had told me to catch the first plane back to Connecticut.

But somewhere near the top of Crestone Needle—perhaps 200 feet from the summit—I gained speed. I scrambled over the rocks, climbing on all fours. The trail was even narrower now, a chute funneling down the seam of the mountain.

I could see the summit, and only a thin, rocky traverse separated me from the top. I climbed higher and higher, until suddenly there was nothing else to climb. The fog that had lingered over the mountain the majority of the day broke.

Inhaling the cool air, I set down my backpack, feeling my anxiety melt away. My racing thoughts dissipated like mist. I turned to look over the mountains, back the way I had come. I could see for miles, and felt amazed at the distance I had covered since leaving Boulder the night before.

Nothing had ever been so clear. Colorado was where I belonged.

By Jenna Blumenfeld

[Crestone Needle by David Herrera/Flickr; Crestone by ezweave/Flickr]

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post How I Found Colorado Atop Crestone Needle appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

Let’s all give a collective sigh of appreciation for the pure unadulterated joy of books. Let’s toast their smooth, creamy pages, their musty smell, their meticulously designed covers. Recall the weight of a hefty book in your hand— it’s much better than the overly bright, soul-sucking computer screen you’re staring at right now.

The best kind of book is the one where putting it down in order to accomplish such pleasantries like eating or sleeping or using the facilities would be akin to the apocalypse. (I confess, when each Harry Potter book debuted my family wouldn’t see me for three days until I emerged blinking in the sunlight, mumbling incoherently about Muggles, Diagon Alley, and the Sorting Hat.)

Books are even more beautiful to read while traveling. They provide you with a nuanced understanding of the place you are visiting. Regardless if it’s fact or fiction, history or travel-centric, a book offers a parallel narrative to your experiences. This narrative widens your perception of a city or country, allowing you to dive deeper into its belly, and (forgive me for the analogy), pry open its ragged shell to find the glowing pearl hidden within.

Expectedly, Smithsonian understands the power of reading when traveling, as evidenced by their recent article outlining great books and where to read them. I agree with most of the author’s suggestions, such as Homer’s The Odyssey in Greece and Bryson’s Notes From a Small Island in England. The article also recommends travelers read Krakaur’s Into the Wild while visiting Alaska — which, while fitting, has potential to scare you from ever venturing into the wilderness alone again.

When I road-tripped through the American Southwest several years ago, I recall reading Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal Dreams, an Arizona-based novel filled with cacti and adobe buildings, Native American themes and the natural landscape of red-hued mountains. It was a moving and memorable way to journey through the sometimes stark, sometimes breathtaking roads of Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and Colorado.

Simply put, books are transcendent. They change us even when we aren’t traveling, and their contents make us grow as human beings. We are better people because books exist.

So what should you do?

Rediscover your affection for books. Go to a bookstore. Borrow one from a friend. List your top travel book recommendations in the comments below (don’t everyone rush and recommend The Expeditioner’s Guide To The World at once.)  And for goodness sake, if you plan on reading Fifty Shades of Grey, for everyone’s comfort, download it to your Kindle.

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post In Defense Of Books appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

As if you needed another excuse to travel. A recent survey conducted by an Australian-based travel agency revealed that traveling may be the single most important attribute you should advertise on your sketchy online dating profile.

Apparently traveling is one of the most attractive traits for single coeds.

I mean come on, tell us something we don’t know. Of course we travelers are downright sexy. And we have the unparalleled humility to match.

Consider our qualities:

1) Our chiseled abdominal muscles (sculpted from hours of backpacking and sprinting to catch that unexpected on-time flight).

2) Our worldly up-for-anything attitude.

3) Our adorable, laid-back hair that seems to naturally dread after a week without proper washing or combing.

4) Our tanned (often wrinkle-free) skin.

5) Our abnormally high tolerance for alcohol.

Of course we attract members of the opposite sex like moths to a flame.

We’re the modern day pioneers. Lewis and Clark. Columbus. Marco Polo. Darwin. Shackleton. Peary. They have nothing on the global charisma our personalities offer. As modern travelers, we can get along with anyone, we can sleep anywhere, we can live on ten dollars a day and (we think) we can survive anything for the sake of a memorable story. Our sense of direction is unrivaled and our instincts — rock-solid. If these qualities don’t attract a suitable mate, I don’t know what does.

*

After mulling over the survey (and coming to the conclusion that it is positively correct in its assessment), I wondered why travelers are so alluring. Perhaps it’s their temporary existence. Consider Fleet Week in New York City, that late-May celebration which sends Sex and the City fans (yes I’m referring to designer shoe-crazed women), into an even further frenzy.

What makes these men so attractive? Are women drawn to their uniforms? Their prestige? No. I think we like their (no puns) fleeting nature. We know they can’t stick around, so the challenge of ensnaring them is presented.

When a traveler rolls through town, the chase is on — and that’s the key. The old adages are correct: The grass is always greener on the other side. We want what we can’t have.

And in those rare instances when that road romance actually works out?

My friends, that is true love.

[My Legs by Steffani S/Flickr]

[#TravelIsSexyDay]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post Top 5 Reasons Travelers Are Sexy appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

Campsites vary from the most primitive of settings to truly exceptional sleeping quarters. Some may only have simple pit toilets (nose-pinching and breath-holding required), while others have full-on hot showers, laundromats and convenience stores with coveted goodies such as Clif Bars and miniature bottles of bourbon.

While no summer road trip is complete without a little down and dirty camping (indeed, your vacation will certainly be enhanced by crashing in the parking lot of a super-sketchy truck stop at least once), you should plan to hit some of the exceptional campsites around the U.S. at some point.

You don’t have to succumb to creepy — not to mention pricey — motels to get a good night’s sleep. Here, in no particular order, are some of the best campsites the American Southwest has to offer.

1) Snow Canyon State Park

A truly memorable campground, Snow Canyon State Park offers sweeping views of rust-colored rocks; large but secluded campsites; cushy, sand tent platforms; and huge, shady bushes that shelter campers from the blazing noon sun. Choose a campsite that sits flush against one of the park’s many rock walls for a cozy enclosure.

If you must restock supplies, the nearby sprawling suburban town of St. George offers big-box grocery stores and dingy restaurants — admittedly not the most charming place. And remember that you’re in Utah, which means you have to venture into a government-owned liquor store to buy any booze or watered-down beer.

Thankfully, Snow Canyon lies far enough away from St. George to obscure city lights and noises from the night sky. Flush toilets and lukewarm showers offer convenience amid the wild desert landscape.

[Snow Canyon State Park]

2) South Campground, Zion National Park

Seconds away from the Zion National Park Visitor Center, South Campground resides in the green valley floor of Zion Canyon. Though the park has a desert-like climate, several large trees provide shade on hot afternoons. Due to the lack of electrical hookups, unsightly RV’s are kept to a minimum and are usually relegated to the more crowded Watchman Campground. Water and flush bathrooms are several steps away — a blessing during dark nights.

During the day hike Angel’s Landing, a beastly trail that sends you up a ridge that drops off hundreds of feet on both sides. Needless to say, this trail is not for the faint of heart.

At dusk the setting sun reflects off the valley’s walls, lending an enchanting and luminous light to dining campers here.

[South Campground]

3) Rancheros de Santa Fe Campground

When a campsite is equipped with free Wi-Fi, you know you are in for a relatively lavish night. A stone’s throw from downtown Santa Fe, Rancheros de Santa Fe Campground has all the amenities a roadtripper could possibly wish for: hot showers, water, electric hook-ups, full-flush bathrooms and laundry, all of which guarentees you’ll depart cleaner than when you left.

Equipped with a dog park, playground and free outdoor movies from May to September, kids and pets will be entertained and happy. The campsites themselves are large and roomy, are shaded by scraggly trees and have beautifully cushioned mulched tent platforms for a restful evening.

[Rancheros de Santa Fe Campground]

4) Natural Bridges National Monument

Forty-two miles west of Blanding, Utah — so, basically, the middle of nowhere. Good luck.

It’s easy to see why Natural Bridges National Monument has been designated an International Dark Sky Park: The nearest town is a whopping 40-odd miles away. But as long as you stock up on firewood and food prior to making the drive, you should have an exceptional night. Other necessities: small red flashlight, star chart and binoculars.

Though the park gets its name from the sandstone bridges carved by water millions of years ago, it’s the night sky that’s the main attraction. Spotting meteors within seconds of nightfall makes up for the lack of flush toilets, showers, electrical hookups and cell service.

The sites themselves are huge with hefty fire pits and picnic tables. Though the park is open all year round, the summers and winters have harsh weather. For the best stargazing, plan a visit around a new moon (a.k.a. no moon).

[Natural Bridges National Monument]

5) Lake Colorado City State Park

Featuring wide-open campsites with a great view of Lake Colorado City, this 500-acre state park is a fantastic place to spend an evening. Full-flush bathrooms and showers are close to the numerous campsites, as well as running water for each location. Swimming is allowed in the lake (no lifeguard) — a blessing on a hot Texas day. Try to snag a site with a view of the lake and you’ll be rewarded with a spectacular morning sunrise.

Bonus: If a thunderstorm is in the vicinity, you’ll be able to see lightning coming across the horizon for miles — a terrifyingly beautiful vision you won’t soon forget.

[Lake Colorado City State Park]

[Sipapu Bridge by Frank Kovalchek/Flickr ; Zion National Park by Stuart Seeger/Flickr ; Natural Bridge by Ted Percival/Flickr]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post 5 Great Places To Camp In The American Southwest appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

The locals of Door County, Wisconsin, sit across from me at the picnic table, dumping a colossal amount of melted butter over their plates, rendering their meal balanced to Wisconsin standards. The most important food group is dairy, I’m told, and until now this meal has been severely lacking.

Welcome to the Door County-style fish boil, a relic from the Scandinavian heritage of the cheese-head peninsula. What’s a fish boil, you ask? It’s Wisconsin’s answer to the New England Clam Bake, or the Deep South’s Alligator Fry (that’s a thing, isn’t it?). The mere mention of a fish boil makes Door Countyians squirm with excitement as they conjure images of summer days.

And pyromaniacs, rejoice. Because this meal involves fire. Lots of it.

Door County is a peculiar place. A peninsula sticking out into Lake Michigan, during the first few days of visiting there it seems like the archetypal summer vacation spot. And it partly is. The weather is pleasant, with a consistent breeze stemming from the open water of Lake Michigan to the east and Green Bay to the west. Small towns — where all people seem to know each other — dot the county, and each hosts old-fashioned kitsch ice cream shops, lakeside kayak rentals and frequent sidewalk sales. Independent galleries are abundant. There is a forested park, aptly named Peninsula State Park, which overlooks the bay and has a long bike path snaking through it, perfect for an idyllic sunset ride.

But there is quirkiness to Door County that reveals itself in the details of a visit. And you see this eccentricity only after it has slipped through the cracks of its touristy façade. To me, the fish boil represents this goofy and somehow nostalgic place.

In addition to cheese and fish boils, Door County proffers another tasty food: cherries. No, not the cloyingly sweet cherries muddled at the bottom of your poorly made Old Fashioned, but Montmorency cherries that are tart and rather horrible when eaten off the tree, but delicious when reduced into jam, or made into wine, ice cream or margaritas. They were even the subject of a musical entitled, Bing! The Cherry Musical!, produced by the American Folklore Theatre, one of the few outdoor original musical theater venues in the country. People here like their cherries.

But to really experience the essence of a fish boil, throw one yourself. Without further adieu, here’s how—regardless of your geographic location or your affection for cheese.

1) Head out to the nearest lake and catch a few pounds of whitefish. Find the biggest pot you own and fill it with new potatoes, whole white onions and more salt than you think is healthy. Fill with water and bring to a boil over a massive outdoor fire.

2) Call 20 of your closest friends and break out the tart cherry margaritas. Eat some cheese curds as an appetizer. Appoint a “boil master” — usually the host of the party — to douse the fire with inordinate amounts of gasoline.

3) Taking care not to singe your eyebrows, pour gasoline directly onto the fire. Watch the pot become engulfed in flames. The water will boil up and out of the pot and onto the fire. This is called the “boil over”. Your fish boil is ready. Strain out the fish, potatoes and onions. Serve with extra salt and melted butter.

4) For dessert, serve up the cherry pie. Pair with whipped cream, or if you’re feeling extra Door County-like — more cheese curds. Hey, this is Wisconsin after all.

[Photo by Jenna Blumenfeld]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post How To Throw A Fish Boil Wisconsin Style (Antacids Optional) appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

When Americans ski they should be prepared to experience discomfort for at least a portion of the day. While freezing temperatures, high winds and cracked goggles may contribute to this vexation, the largest travesty while skiing is usually in the ski lodge. Let us examine the sub-par cafeteria at a typical ski lodge.

You walk through the swinging double doors and meet an unruly crowd. Throughout the day your boots have slowly squeezed your toes into numb oblivion (the result of your insistence to increasingly tighten your boots for more Lindsey Vonn-like speed and control), so you loosen the buckles, letting them flop to the side as you scope out which packed table you can finagle yourself into. Rogue helmets, gloves and goggles continuously wander their way into your trayful of overpriced, under-seasoned food. Grease from your cheeseburger stains your fleece vest. Your ski-bum buddy grosses you out by mixing his frugal concoction of tomato soup (ketchup and hot water swirled together; stolen saltine crackers dunked into the muddy liquid).

Disgruntled skier, meet the 10th Restaurant at Vail Resort, Colorado — the new ski-in, ski-out restaurant located at mid-Vail mountain. It’s namesake pays homage to the 10th Mountain Division, the 1943-established group of the gnarliest soldiers ever: High-altitude skiing, hiking and climbing were their specialties. In Colorado, the logo of crosshatched skies signifies bravery, living in cahoots with nature and all around badassness. I have the utmost privilege (not to mention bragging rights) of being a descendent of the 10th Mountain Division (my grandfather was a ski instructor at the training grounds in Camp Hale, Colorado).

While the music playing in the ritzy bathroom of the 10th restaurant — “That’s The Way I Like It” by KC and The Sunshine Band — didn’t exactly channel my grandfather’s courageous spirit, the quiet beauty and sophisticated rustic interior of the structure sure did.

The building’s interior rivals any conventional ski lodge. Wooden rafters garnish the high-vaulted ceiling. A fully stocked, sparkly bar reflects light from a massive, glowing fireplace. Lofty windows offer diners spectacular views of Vail’s storied mountains. The bathrooms are pretty nice too — stocked with mouthwash, hairspray, hairbrushes, lotion and sunscreen. [Editor’s Note: Assuming our female reporter behaved herself, we can postulate that the male latrine is similarly impressive.]

A commendable aspect of the restaurant is the locker room, where tired and cold powderhounds can discharge their wet gear, unbuckle their boots and relax into the cushy comfort of complimentary slippers — real slippers lined with faux fur. In one fell swoop you relax into the Western opulence of the 10th.

It’s time for lunch.

*

Start your meal with the Caramelized Onion, Porcini Mushrooms, Caraway, Brie and Brioche Soup. This steaming bowl has a rich and earthy quality to it that when topped with slices of brie, toast, and fresh herbs, the dark and fragrant broth succeeds in warming up frigid and stiff bones. Pluck a roll from the your tasty bread basket and smear heavily-salted butter onto the bread; dunk into the soup. Eat. Repeat.

If you’re feeling famished, the Heritage Chicken & Pheasant Pot Pie with Heirloom Root Vegetables & Vermouth Cream is a point of pride for the restaurant. Served in a cast iron skillet, this beauty is topped with a golden crust reminiscent of your grandmama’s heirloom quilt. This meshes with the hot velvety stew laying underneath — like freshly-tuned skis on a powder morning. But eater be warned, this piping hot skillet-full is large enough to feed more than two frozen ski bunnies. Myself and my sister — who happens to work for a ski company (and the answer is yes, I do get free gear) — were stuffed out  of commission after just a few bites. This classic dish fills the soul, and perhaps your arteries, to the brim.

*

Unless your bank account looks like P. Diddy’s, the 10th Restaurant is not an everyday indulgence. If you are trying to beat the amount of vertical feet you ski in one day, lunch is far too leisurely for that. And despite the notorious prices in cafeterias, the 10th’s bill can add up even more rapidly.  But it is a place for special occasions. Where you can take a break from the chaos and crunchiness of the typical ski-day and morph your dirt-bag, bedraggled self into a citizen of true refinement. Just like Mr. Combs himself.

[Photos courtesy of Vail Resorts and the author]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post How Vail’s 10th Restaurant Will Make You Feel Like P. Diddy appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

Mealworm sushi from a past Explorers Club annual dinner.

If python, larvae, scorpion, jellyfish and yak were on the dinner menu, one may assume a night camping in an Amazonian jungle was in store. But don’t start stuffing your pack with teepee and GORP just yet, because this dinner is taking place in New York City — and you’ll need a tuxedo.

On March 17th the 1904-founded Explorers Club (whose members run the gamut from the late mountaineer Sir Edmund Hillary to astronaut Buzz Aldrin to marine biologist Sylvia Earle) will hold its annual black-tie member dinner at the Waldorf-Astoria hotel. As tradition dictates, the cocktail hour prior to the main dinner will feature an array of peculiar culinary curiosities.

Gene Rurka, 64, dubbed the culinary curiosities curator of the club, has been spearheading the dinner for over a decade. “We’re getting a little soft with our eating habits,” he said in an interview. “The rest of the world has a larger variation of proteins. Americans primarily eat factory-raised chicken, beef, and pork. I hope these unusual appetizers will broaden people’s minds.”

Explorers Club members are no strangers to roughing it in subpar conditions. For example, Danish explorer and club member Peter Freuchen (1886-1957), whose portrait hangs on the sixth floor in the club’s renowned Trophy Room (vegans stay far away — this room is lined with vintage taxidermies) was once trapped by ice in Baffin Island, Canada. Finding himself with no means of escape, legend has it that Freuchen ingeniously pooped (yes, you read that right) in his hand, waited until his fecal matter was rock-hard frozen, and used his homegrown “shit knife” to chip his way to freedom.

As reported by ExpeditionNews.com, Freuchen later wrote, “Repulsive as the thought was, I decided to try the experiment. I moved my bowels and from the excrement I managed to fashion a chesellike instrument which I left to freeze. This time I was patient, I did not want to risk breaking my new tool by using it too soon.  At last I decided to try my chisel, and it worked! Very gently and slowly I worked on the hole.”

So it’s only natural that the most crusty men and women on the planet should feel right at home during the gala dinner.

What can members look forward to this year? “I source animals that are normally considered inedible or pests,” Rurka explains. “This is an experiment in sustainable, alternative forms of food.” For example, Python Patties and Stir-Fried Jellyfish will make an appearance at the party.

“The python population is out of control in Florida — it has nearly wiped out the raccoons. And jellyfish normally aren’t thought of as a food source, even though they are overabundant on the East and West Coasts.” Jellyfish can also be dehydrated, shipped to hunger-stricken third world countries, and re-hydrated for sustenance, says Rurka. “Here, the shipping carbon footprint would be pretty low.”

Rurka plans on soaking the jellyfish in a marinade of white soy sauce (a dark soy sauce would splatter and stain the ladies’ evening gowns, he thoughtfully explains), sesame oil and vinegar. “It will look like a small, flat noodle.” Scorpions, earthworms and cockroaches will also be made into appetizers.

While these ingredients may sound downright disgusting in their original state (although with their low-fat content and sustainable farming, bugs are projected to be the super-protein of the future [we have a lot to look forward to folks!]), many say they are delicious. “Part of the fun is walking around to each station, and seeing people actually like the food, despite its foreignness,” says Rurka. What is he particularly excited about this year? Tasmanian leatherwood honey. “This a great ingredient, it has a distinct flavor — I’m infusing big, juicy Madagascar hissing cockroaches with it. I raised these guys myself.” For the majority of the year, Rurka runs a farm 45 minutes outside of Manhattan.

While it’s fun to imagine people in fancy clothes eating bugs, the culinary curiosities table has a more complex rhetoric at play. With Earth’s 7 billion-plus population, the unusual appetizers are actually a commentary on world hunger. Our current methods of factory farming and genetically engineered crops (whose very nature promotes massive increases in herbicides and pesticides) are not only unsustainable, but also detrimental to our well-being and to the health of our planet.

At the dinner this Saturday, as black-tie- and-gown-clad men and women mill about, it won’t be a surprise that what were once considered throwaway parts will now be coveted components of the appetizer list. Food sources that were common 50 years ago are now exotic, if not extinct. Rurka explains even organ meats are foreign now. “You used to be able to get a good tongue sandwich in New York. Now a tongue sandwich is 30 dollars!”

 [Photo by Jeff Blumenfeld/ExpeditionNews.com]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post Waiter, There’s A Bug In My Appetizer appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

The Expeditioner sits down (virtually) with Co-Founder Kevin Creusy Of BackpackMojo.com for a chat on how backpackers can travel better, what it’s like founding a startup and why Mars is the next Laos for backpackers.

Imagine a scenario: You have a measly 12 vacation days off from work and the possibilities are endless. Your plans are like an open book, a spinning globe, a blank slate . . . you get the idea. All you know is that you pine to leave the ho-hum predictability of the daily grind (regardless of how much you enjoy your job) and embark into the adventure-ridden abyss of backpacking.

So what’s the next step?

Do you peruse the dusty old shelves of the local used bookstore, kick it old school and open up the travel section of the city newspaper, or fritter away an inordinate amount of time on Wikipedia? French travelers Kevin Creusy, 23; Antoine Heber-Suffrin, 26; and Pierre Margueritte, 22; are the co-founders of BackpackMojo.com — a website offering trustworthy travel information from in-the-know intrepid backpackers.

In addition to featuring an adorable monkey as a mascot (who looks peculiarly like an ewok) the fledgling website serves as a platform for members of the “backpacking tribe” to both connect and confer on trip planning.  A departure from the overused Lonely Planet model, BackpackMojo.com allows wanderlust souls to glean travel information ranging from the balmy climate of San José to the windswept tundra of Australia.

*

I had the good fortune of talking with Creusy, and was able to coax him to dish about why—and how—he launched the website, his advice to similar entrepreneurs and where we would teleport to (you know, if that was possible and all).

The Expeditioner: Tell me the basics about Backpack Mojo, and why you decided to start it in the first place.

Kevin Creusy: Backpack Mojo is a unique concept of self-edition platform for all kinds of travelers that enables them to create their own travel guides.

We came up with this idea while we were traveling in Indonesia. We realized that out of the 1,000 pages in a Lonely Planet guidebook, generally we just use a hundred of them, and waste all the rest. This was the first real observation we made. What came next was the thought that if everyone shared their unique tips and tricks about all the trips they did in the past, we wouldn’t end up on the same “travel guide road” and would have a much wider range of travel options at any time.

We started looking for a better way to share travel information a platform that would make it easy for all travelers to share their insights in an itinerary-based manner.

We really believed that well-organized, easy-to-access content would be a game changer in the e-travel industry.

The Expeditioner: Ideally, would you like Backpack Mojo to function more as a social media site or a travel site?

Kevin: Well, we are ambitious! We want Backpack Mojo to be the ultimate place of exchange for travel knowledge. So in that sense, our travel guides are a potent tool, but not the only one available on the website.

We also have a social media feature called “Tribe” that enables users to follow other people’s adventures by joining their groups. Once you join a traveler’s tribe, you receive his updates on your own “Tribefeed” and can communicate with him or her directly. It’s a way for travelers to stay in contact with each other on a backpacker-dedicated social network.

On the other side, Backpack Mojo is also the only site online today that can answer the question: “I am going to Japan for 20 days, what can I do?”.

An itinerary is often the fruit of a long labor on many forums, travel websites, as well as hours spent questioning friends. Our website automatically highlights the most relevant travel guides for travelers in quest of inspiration.

The Expeditioner: Tell me about the monetary compensation. I understand that backpackers can get paid for the guides they provide?

Kevin: Absolutely! In the near future, all travel writers on Backpack Mojo will have their own “author shop” on the website and on our mobile apps. Every travel guide written on Backpack Mojo can be bought by travelers searching for inspiration and unique travel tips. A travel guide is sold for 20€ (around $25) on Backpack Mojo, and out of this the author gets a 25% commission. This also allows readers to help support those authors’ travels.

Today, thanks to hours of hard work, we can deliver these travel guides within 10 days worldwide.

Our pending mobile app will also allow users to access travel guides, but the principle is slightly different. All travel guides will be free by default, but an author can choose to sell his travel guides for a price of his choice. Again, the author gets a 25% commission out of the price paid by the reader.

We focus as much as possible on being fair with travelers. This is also the reason why we chose to offer them their own printed travel guide once it is complete.

The Expeditioner: What other benefits do travelers have to using your website? Why is it better than using a guidebook?

Kevin: Well this is a tough question — we have a completely different approach to classic guidebooks. While they focus on giving the widest possible information about a country, we focus on specific itineraries and unique information gleaned from real traveler experience.

In a Backpack Mojo guidebook you will find very little information about the country itself, but a whole lot regarding the road you decided to travel. Specific tips and tricks, hotspots, and transportation information hold the most important place in our travel guides.

Furthermore, because of the huge range of destinations they cover, classic guidebooks have a hard time keeping their travel information relevant and up-to-date. A Backpack Mojo travel guide, because it’s created by a recent traveler, is a recent and reliable source of travel information. Regarding older Backpack Mojo travel guides, the date at which the author traveled is present on every page, a way for the reader to evaluate the relevance of the information he is reading.

The Expeditioner: What are the challengers to starting your own site? 

Kevin: Definitely web development. It was necessary to build a team with both the skills and passion for travel to run such a complicated project. Once the platform was finished we only needed to spend a few thousand hours developing and coordinating the project!

Acquiring the techie-skills was a challenge for everyone, whether it was about community management, web development, or finance and accountability, every aspect was a challenge but everyone rose to the task.

The Expeditioner: If you could go back in time 5 years and give advice to yourself from the future, what would it be?

Kevin: Invest in Apple? More seriously, I think I would have chosen to take a more “technical” education. I would have loved to specialize in web and software development. This would have been (and would still be) very useful to Backpack Mojo.

The Expeditioner: Do you have any advice for other entrepreneurs looking to start their own online business?

Kevin: Start a business you are passionate about. It will require such intense devotion that, if it’s not the case, you might have real difficulty to find the determination necessary to succeed.

The Expeditioner: If teleportation existed, and you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be, and what activity would you be doing there?

Kevin: I would teleport to Mars and do a little backpacking there. I would probably try to hike The Olympus Mons, the highest mountain in the solar system . . . if I had an oxygen tank and solar-suit of course.

The Expeditioner: Besides The Expeditioner contributing editors, who are your favorite travel writers?

Kevin: I won’t lie if I say that my favorite travel writers are all on Backpack Mojo. I start everyday of work by choosing a random travel guide and reading it. It is my own personal way to travel while I am stuck at the office.

There are of course many bloggers (EuropeUpClose, GoSeeWrite, etc . . .) and travel magazines I really like to read from such as The Expeditioner. As you might have guessed I spend almost all my free time reading about travel.

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post BackpackMojo.com Wants To Pay You To Help Others Travel Better [Q&A] appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

If you’ve ever found yourself on a flight longer than eight hours, you have undoubtedly experienced the travesty of the modern airplane meal. While shorter flights do the courtesy of refraining from dinner service, or providing the tasty, yet utterly unhealthy “Snack Pack” (Pringles and M&Ms for supper anyone?), longer flights are often plagued by what can only be described as lukewarm goop.

As a courtesy to hungry travelers everywhere, Huff Po recently outlined the best and worst airlplane meals. While no means a comprehensive or complete list, the article gave some insight into what kinds of food are currently being served.

What topped the list as the best? Singapore Airlines takes the cake with finely-crafted meals, such as the “crab curry patta, [with] an infusion of coconut and mint chutney with pot-au-feu beef.” Doesn’t sound too shabby, does it, especially at a cruising altitude of 30,000 feet?

On the contrary, United/Continental found itself at the bottom of the food chain (ha, puns) with a hodge-podge of different items, including mini muffins, super-sugary yogurt, and a canned fruit cup. Horrifyingly, one Continental flyer was served, “pan-seared turbot fish and grilled shrimp with lobster Newburg sauce.” What’s that? You think that sounds good? Well, do you know how hard it is to keep fish fresh? The airline is just setting itself up for failure with that one.

Perhaps we should be easier on airlines. After all, everyone knows they are suffering economically, despite the amount of baggage fees we pay. And it must be difficult to serve a decent, warm meal in tight quarters for potentially hundreds of people. But airlines should keep it simple; think café style, or think fruit and cheese plate. I’d take a well-made grilled cheese paired with a bowl of chili over fish of questionable freshness any day.

Unequivocally, your best option is to bring along your own grub. Not only will you save cash for tastier endeavors in your destination city, but you will be spared a sub-par dinner.

Here’s my suggestion: Take one toasted Portuguese roll, layer it with sliced fresh mozzarella, chopped basil and tomato, then wrap it tightly in tin foil and stash it in your carry-on. Unwrap your tasty morsel mid-flight and chuckle diabolically at your poor seatmate relegated to the Newburg Sauce.

[Photo by dtobias/Flickr]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post The Worst Airplane Food (And What You Can Do About It) appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

Every gung-ho winter sports fanatic has a ski or snowboard bucket list memorized, if not stitched into the lining of their jacket.  For some, flying down the runs of Whistler, British Columbia — jagged mountains towering above — could be numero uno on their wish list. For others, the gnarly off-piste chutes of Mürren, Switzerland (accessible only by cable car), may be the crème de la crème. Some skiers may even covet a day spent attempting to keep up with Olympic racer Lindsey Vonn (good luck with that).

But while these goals and locations are commendable, and undoubtedly contain some of the best snow in the world, genuine powderhounds agree that the true golden egg of skiing resides in the elusive sport of heli-skiing — the act of being carried to remote backcountry runs by helicopter.

What’s so great about heli-skiing? It carves out the most desirable aspects of slope-side fun and eliminates the worst (lift lines, out-of-control beginner skiers, icy terrain and pesky snowmaking machines don’t exist). While I regret to inform you that I’ve never had the luck of participating in this activity, like thousands of other skiers, the mere thought of heli-skiing has me shaking with excitement in my (ski) boots.

In a recent Financial Times article, one fortunate writer had the opportunity to combine heli-skiing, ahem, I mean heli-snowboarding with a snowy destination few people even dream to place on their bucket list: The Himalayas. Sheesh, and you thought Killington’s Superstar was the epitome of snow sport fun.

Despite battling altitude sickness, the ever-present threat of avalanche and a sun strong enough to form the dreaded raccoon eyes within minutes, snowboarder Ekow Eshun describes the 1,000-meter run as “exhilarating,” and the powder as “untrammeled.” For sure, a true bucket list ski adventure.

But at just under $9,000, a week’s worth of Himalaya heli-skiing (not including your flight to Delhi) is definitely not budget travel. So don your snowpants and head to the nearest ski resort — even Indiana has one, Google it — because you’ll be saving for this trip of a lifetime for longer than one season.

[Heli-ski by ISML /Flickr]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post Add Heli-Skiing To Your Bucket List appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

Having just received my brand new passport in the mail, I flipped through the blank pages and saw endless possibilities. The stamps are gone, the airplane tickets are yet to be purchased and the stories not yet told. What will the future be for this little document? And what’s in store for the awkwardly-photographed owner of it? Perhaps, this is the time to finally leave my stamp on this world by becoming the greatest traveler in the history of the universe.

Okay, so that may be a bit out of reach for me at least. I mean, I’ve got a dog to care for; she’s not much for air travel. But those stories — those possibilities — have been recognized by a long line of people throughout the history of, well, the universe.

So, in true Expeditioner fashion, we offer you the inspiration to venture into the world. Jenna and I have teamed up to ransack The Expeditioner’s in-house library. Our results have become the ultimate list ever created: The greatest travelers of all time.

Before you start to carve up those we’ve deemed “the greatest,” just remember, there are still stones unturned.

Without further adieu, in no particular order, we present to you the greatest travelers in the history of the universe.

1) Christopher Columbus

The Italian navigator/explorer is probably the best failure in history. The first explorer to sail across the Atlantic in search of Asia, he fell a bit short when he ran into the Americas.  Not only did he pave the way for European exploration there, he was also a very astute businessman, giving the natives yellow fever, measles, typhoid (among others) in exchange for syphilis. Not sure who fared better in that deal.

2) Reid Stowe

This intrepid traveler recently completed the longest, unsupported voyage at sea in the history of mankind: 1,152 days aboard his schooner Anne (shattering the previous record of 1,067 days by a Norwegian ship in the 1890’s). It takes a special kind of person to sail solo for three years and not return having conversations with fish, but Stowe is both a dreamer and a romantic. “I was never lonely once in the whole voyage,” he said. “Being alone in the wildness and beauty of nature is an enlightening experience.”

3) Kira Salak

Her resume includes traveling solo to almost every continent including Madagascar, Borneo, Rwanda, Burma and the Democratic Republic of Congo; named 2005 National Geographic Emerging Explorer; first to kayak solo 600 miles down West Africa’s Niger River; first woman to traverse Papua New Guinea; Ph.D. in English; Author of three books; but most importantly, she has been called the “real-life Lara Croft.” ‘Nuff said.

4) Cat Videos

Ahhh, yes, the rigorously tested technique to ensure your Youtube video travels to all reaches of the internet: insert “cat” in the title. Seriously, you ask? Yes. They consistently have had views in the millions. Some, such as the beloved “Funny Cats” are blessed with over 62 milion views.

That’s a lot of people in a lot of places streaming rambunctious kittens and clueless felines into their homes. My take? Sure, it’s cute. Cats are adorable and they do amusing things. But 62 million? President Obama’s illustrious speech after winning the presidency on November 4, 2008, has brought in just over 5.6 million views. Inspiring and encouraging, it triggered a dormant feeling of patriotism across the United States, but no cat. Cold, hard proof that any political speech will reach more people if a kitten stumbles off the podium.

5) Sylvia Earle

Dubbed “Her Deepness” by such publications as The New Yorker and The New York Times, Sylvia is not only one of the world’s leading oceanographers — logging over 6,000 hours underwater — but she also holds the record for the deepest solo dive ever: 380 meters (1,250 feet) down. At 76 years old, Ms. Earle is still the chief steward of ocean conservation and founded three companies that design and build deep-sea submarines for ocean research. Groovy.

6) Waldo

Whether at a beach, banquet, museum, circus, mall, grocery store or ski resort, Waldo has the audacity to assimilate with the local inhabitants of his travels while simultaneously being persistently searched for by wanderlusting whippersnappers at bedtime across the globe. Waldo also maintains a composed, calm demeanor despite the claustrophobic, crowded situations he frequently finds himself in. For hygiene’s sake, let’s hope that this famous traveler has more than one change of that red and white striped shirt in his backpack.

7) Dwight Collins

How would you like to spend 40 days in an 850-pound, 24-foot tube-shaped boat outfitted with little more than freeze-dried Fig Newtons? This guy was down with the idea, and succeeded in making the fastest human-powered crossing of the Atlantic Ocean. Peddling his rig an average of 19.5 hours a day, Collins battled sea-induced ailments like boredom, sleep deprivation and curious 12-foot long sharks. On the completion of his journey in Plymouth, England, Collins tossed a champagne bottle into the sea with a note inside reading: “To whoever finds this bottle — may you have the courage to pursue that which means the most to you.” Spoken like a true Expeditioner.

8) Will Steger

New Zealand had Hillary, the English had Mallory, and Americans have Will Steger. Strong advocate for the global climate crisis, Steger has spearheaded multiple expeditions across both the North and South Poles. His first trip involved him leading seven men and one woman across the North Pole by dogsled without resupply.

After 55 days of minus 70-degree temperatures and grueling work, six members were able to complete the crossing. As if that wasn’t enough, several years later, Steger embarked on a 220-day journey to traverse Antarctica — on foot no less. The International Trans-Antarctic ’89-90 Expedition team of six used both sled dogs and skis to complete the journey, battling the very limits of human endurance. Think about that the next time you’re zip-lining through the Costa Rican jungle.

9) Michael Palin

Starting his career as a member of Monty Python, he reinvented himself as a traveler. Proving there’s still hope for many of us. This guy accepted the BBC’s challenge to travel around the world in 80 days, Jules Verne style. He finished the adventure in 79 days 7 hours (airplane-less), which became a television series; pretty much pioneering the concept of getting travel into people’s homes.

10) Rolf Potts

The Jesus of traveling on a budget, he is probably best known as a true vagabonding advocate with his first book, and his more recent book sticks it to another traveler on our list: Marco Polo Didn’t Go There: Stories and Revelations From One Decade as a Postmodern Travel Writer. He also has a tendency to travel the world with no luggage: an airliner’s fantasy passenger.

11) Arctic Tern

And you thought Aunt Edna’s efforts to avoid winter ruled. This little guy is the king of all migrators. They spend their first summer in their breeding grounds in the Arctic, and when it gets a bit too nippy, they head south to their “wintering grounds” in Antarctica. These dudes chalk up roughly 45,000 miles annually under their own power — the human equivalent of walking to Jupiter.

12) Xuanzang

This Chinese monk basically went on the mother of all pilgrimages in search of the origins of Buddhism. Not only did he travel through China, the Indian subcontinent and Afghanistan, he found time to document it all, making him one or the world’s first real travel writers.

13) Captain James Cook

Cook likely discovered more of the earth than anyone else, circumnavigating the globe twice and charting damn near every inch of it. Though known as having a bad temper, his logs indicate a genuine interest in other cultures. That is, until he was clubbed to death in Hawaii. Regardless, his philosophy of going “farther than any man has been before me,” should be inspiring to us all. Just watch your back in Hawaii.

14) Mark Twain

The pen name of Samuel Langhorne Clemens of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn fame, the book’s widespread reading and criticism has provided an opportunity for people to contemplate the nature of differences and freedom — the ultimate theme of traveling, really.

15) Jack Kerouac

His influential book On the Road details spontaneous road trips across America in search of, well, anything.  It not only defined the Beat Generation, it showed you raw America and added to the lure of road tripping. I’ve heard it described as an American version of The Odyssey. That’s pretty good company.

16) The Tarahumara Tribe

Barefoot running shoes may be marketed as a new technology designed to make your feet look suspiciously like those of a gorilla, but the Tarahumara or “Running” people in the northwest canyons of Mexico have been jogging sans-Nikes for 500 years, and they make a marathon look easier than an amble from your Laz-E Boy to the fridge.

It’s said that one particularly ambitious tribe-member completed 435 miles in two days — the equivalent of running from New York to Cleveland. What’s the secret? Among other things, homemade corn beer called tesguino is purported to aid in the phenomenon. The Tarahumara: Putting armchair travelers to shame since the 1600’s.

17) Santa Claus

The jolly old fat man has an army of “elves” that trick out his “sleigh” so that he can travel to every house in the world on Christmas. Imagine what the airline industry could save by way of fuel costs if they just employed a few reindeer.

18) African Wildebeest

These animals are a part of the dwindling great migrations left in the world. The spectacle includes 1.5 million wildebeests migrating about 1,800 miles annually, from the Serengeti plains to Kenya, in search of some grub. Never, ever, complain about your two-block walk  to the store again.

19) Bill Bryson

No, Bill didn’t finish hiking the Appalachian Trail in his book A Walk in the Woods, and he’ll be the first to tell you how damn hard it was. This uppity writer has made traveling more doable than anyone in history, and he’s not so bad at telling about it all either.

20) Anthony Bourdain

This snarky s.o.b. is a chef, author, drinker and traveler that holds the Travel Channel’s scrotum in his back pocket. He has made travel cool again through his shows No Reservations and more recently The Layover.

21) Sir Edmund Hillary

Hillary is fond on standing on things. He reached both poles, the top of New Zealand’s highest peak, and in 1953, he was the first to stand on top of the tallest mountain on earth:  Mt. Everest. In fact, the most famous picture taken on the summit is that of his Nepalese Sherpa, Tenzing Norgay. Apparently, Hillary was standing on top of Norgay, but that was eventually Photoshopped out.

22) Lewis and Clark

These guys are America’s ultimate pioneers. A government-funded exploration of the American frontier sent them into, well, no one knew at the time. Two years later, with the ass-saving skills of Sacagawea, they walked out of the wilderness as the gnarliest travelers on the continent.

23) Yuri Gagarin

I’m not sure we’ve seen the true impact of Yuri’s travels quite yet, since space tourism is still considered a joke. He was shot into outer space in little more than a tin can in 1961, beginning his reign as the man who took the greatest leap into the unknown since Columbus. Ironically, he died in a crash on a routine training flight in 1968.

24) Ibn Battuta

This traveler provided the world insight into the Muslim world of the time. The 14th-Century scholar survived muggings, pirate attacks and hiding in a swamp for weeks without food to travel in over 44 countries — from Shangai to Timbuktu. And you thought your last pass through customs was tough.

25) Marty McFly

Three words: DeLorean time machine. The talented skateboarder and wicked lead guitarist of the Pinheads, McFly broke into the world of travel during his accidental trip back to 1955 at the age of 17. While other teens are more engulfed in the world of acne prevention, Marty manages to get back to 1985—1.21 Gigawatts!—with side trips to 2012 and 1885. I’d like to have his frequent flyer miles.

26) Marco Polo

While working for the great Kublai Khan, Polo took off on a 24-year ramble through Asia. He came home to a war, was imprisoned and used that time to dictate his journeys to his cellmate. Unfortunately, he also spent that time inventing that annoying call-and-response game still used by children in every backyard pool to this day.

27) Vasco DeGama

DeGama can really only claim navigating a rickety old ship around the Cape of Good Hope and opening up European trade with India . . . in 1497 . . . without a GPS. His trek from Lisbon, Portugal, to Calicut, India, and back is a longer distance than the entire equator.

28) Flat Stanley

Stanley, a paper cut-out of a boy, is used in elementary schools all over America to teach geography and culture. The premise: Send your Stanley to someone; they report back to the student, writing in Stanley’s diary and taking pictures of his time there, before sending him on to someone else. Makes you wonder what kind of shenanigans ol’ Stan isn’t sharing with his diary.

29) Charles Darwin

In our mind, this dude’s undying curiosity overcomes his ship’s sissy name: the Beagle. Really, Chuck, a Peanuts reference? His studies took him across the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, most famously to the Galapagos Islands while developing his theory of natural selection. Often overlooked are his explorations through the Peruvian desert and Argentinean plains. Darwin is a bad-ass traveler that changed the way we looked at the world from then on.

30) Sir Richard Francis Burton

Considered the first modern anthropologist, his motivation was understanding how communities operate. While most of us struggle using our native language, Burton knew 30 languages and is probably the closest human to fluently speak monkey. True fact, that’s what happens eventually when you end up devoting your life to wandering the world.

By Jon Wick and Jenna Blumenfeld.

About the Authors

Jon lives in Butte, Montana, spending most of his time on skis or bikes; sometimes both. He began travel writing while teaching in Korea and is currently pursuing his Master’s Degree in Technical Communication at Montana Tech. Jon has begun writing his first book, The Story of Will, whose movie rights are still (very) available. Catch more of Jon at TheJonWickproject.wordpress.com. (@ExpedJon)

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Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. You can see examples of her fine cookery at OvenZest.com.

The post The 30 Greatest Travelers Of All Time appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

I knew I was in the right place when I saw the lean and muscular people milling about outside Boulder Theater — hair dreaded and Patagonia-clad. They had that relaxed, slightly stoned look that comes only after hours of swinging from rocks — and just maybe from some extracurricular chemical activity too. But these Boulderites were actually rock climbers who had come to see the REEL ROCK Film Tour in Boulder, Colorado — the agreed upon Mecca of climbing in the U.S.

Having the good fortune of obtaining a coveted ticket to the show, and an enthusiastic (although quite incompetent) climber myself, I was thrilled to see the premier of the tour. Comprised of six separate stories, the films featured exceptional athletes such as Andy Lewis, a slack-liner commonly referred to as “Sketchy Andy”, who apart from BASE-jumping in the nude, is depicted “free-lining”— slack-lining sans harness — over a canyon. A 9-year-old climbing prodigy, ice, and speed climbing is also highlighted, among others.

Never heard of the tour? You’re in the minority. REEL ROCK has a huge, international following among both the rock-climbing community as well as outdoor enthusiasts alike — and rightly so. The films are justly outstanding. They are masterfully shot, and capture not only the physical, hardcore aspect of climbing, but the true ethos behind the sport as well: Documenting the expansion of both mental and physical human limits.

After a bit of coaxing, I was able to coerce filmmaker Josh Lowell, co-founder of Big Up Productions, to sit still long enough to talk about the 2011 REEL ROCK Film Tour, and adventure filmmaking in general.

The Expeditioner: How did you get started making rock-climbing videos?

Josh: I’ve been climbing for 23 years. After college I spent three years traveling and climbing full time, working as a guide in Aspen in the summers,  at a climbing gym on the east coast in the winters, and traveling in the spring and fall. In the spring of ‘97 I was in New York doing a lot of bouldering in the Shawangunk Ridge (also known as “the gunks” in climbing speak) when I injured my finger pretty badly and couldn’t climb.

I decided to bring a video camera out and film my friends instead. I spent a few weeks editing the footage and had a little party for the local climbers and showed the video. People were so blown away by the result of this just-for-fun project that I started to wonder what I might be able to do if I obtained a better camera and took it seriously. Since then I’ve made over a dozen climbing films.

The Expeditioner: So what exactly is the REEL ROCK Film Tour, and how was it formed?

Josh: The REEL ROCK Film Tour is an annual screening tour that brings the year’s most exciting climbing and adventure films to audiences around the world. I founded it six years ago with my college buddy, Peter Mortimer from Sender Films, which is based in Boulder. We both ended up filming climbing, so we decided to band together to create the tour.

REEL ROCK events are high-energy celebrations of the shared passion for climbing, adventure and the outdoors, including appearances by featured athletes, gear giveaways, and fundraising for local and national non-profits.

The Expeditioner: What’s the aim of the festival?

Josh: Our goal is to entertain and inspire. We want people to laugh, cheer, sweat, think and walk out of the theater ready to tackle their own adventure, whether it’s a big climb, or any personal goal. We think climbing is an amazing metaphor for life, and that any person watching it can relate to the stories, from experienced hard-core climbers to an average Joe.

The Expeditioner: What advice do you have for young people who are looking to break into the adventure film industry?

Josh:  Make a film. Right now. Filmmaking has never been more accessible than it is today. You can get incredible quality out of affordable gear, and you can have your work seen by millions on YouTube if it’s good or unique enough. Make something short, put it out there and see what people think. Think out of the box and try to create something different to get it noticed. This will be a test to see if you have the vision and creativity to potentially become a force in the game.

Also, get involved with industry leaders. Whether or not you’re a creative visionary, many people are involved in all levels of adventure film production. Intern for an established production company — the best route is through editing. If you have expertise in Final Cut Pro or other editing/post-production software you could get in the mix in a very hands-on, valuable way.

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REEL ROCK Film tour is shown worldwide, and runs through February 2012. More information can be found here.

[Photos courtesy of Reel Rock Film Tour]

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

The post How To Become An Adventure Filmmaker: Q+A With Reel Rock Film Tour’s Josh Lowell appeared first on The Expeditioner Travel Site.

There is a restaurant called Post Corner Pizza in Darien, Connecticut, not far from where I grew up. Essentially it is a Greek diner, offering everything from monstrous grinders to stuffed grape leaves to good ‘ol fashioned spaghetti and meatballs, and per the name, pizza too. The ‘za is decent — some may call it satisfying — but it is nothing exceptional.

I continue to frequent Post Corner Pizza when I visit, but not because of the food. And not because of the atmosphere, which is slightly tacky in that endearing, cozy way diners are. I patronize it because it is the place of team dinners, celebratory 3rd-grade dance recitals, and exciting, co-ed middle school birthday parties (where the parents chaperoned a whole table away!). There are memories associated with the food served there, which in turn renders the mediocre taste of the pizza perceptively, well, outstanding.

So I was initially apprehensive over Lonely Planet’s list of tastiest food spots in the world, which declares the best places for numerous items, including gelato, truffles, tea and spices. These places may be notable due to their history, bustle, and quality of products, but there is no question that food is both a sensory and emotional experience.

We are influenced not only by the tangible taste and smell of a food, but also the circumstance surrounding it. For example, why do PB&J sandwiches taste ordinary most of the time, but are on par with filet mignon (or in my case a tasty tofu scramble) when rapidly inhaled at lunch while skiing?  When skiing, you are tired, starving, and so elated that a cardboard box would taste, at the very least, palatable.

But after combing through the list, Lonely Planet provides an enviable directory of places fit for a foodie heaven, causing this writer to add a few more lines to her travel bucket list. My most coveted destination? The labyrinth of natural Mont Combalou caves in France, where Roquefort cheese has been aged for centuries. Venturing to San Miniato National, the white truffle market in San Miniato, Italy, wouldn’t be a travesty either.

But while these locations would certainly be memorable, extraordinary, and positively brag-worthy, if I had the choice a small part of me would rather head to that neighborhood diner with a group of old friends, where we would squeeze into vinyl booths, scarf greasy pizza, and drink cheap Chianti long into the night.

By Jenna Blumenfeld

About the Author

Jenna Blumenfeld, (Jenna Ogden Blumenfeld when she’s in really big trouble) hails from the wee state of Connecticut. Although her childhood dream of becoming a bug doctor — with a specialization in ladybugs — has gone unfulfilled, she is content writing about travel, cuisine and culture. A vegetarian, she currently resides in the food hub of Boulder, Colorado. Read more of her food-centric writing at NewHope360.com.

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