Travel Writing

I've done a fair amount of travel writing over the years. I like to write about travel since I do so little of it. Writing about exotic places like Akron, Ohio or Tupulo, Mississippi is a release for me, since I have no way to actually see these places. Writing about incredible experiences like alligator wrestling or photographing the red-breasted titmouse is my only way to dream about getting out of town. And during this time of the year, I begin to dream of getting out of the prison called Indiana.

There will, of course, be no vacation for my family this Christmas. We are, unfortunately, snowbound with each other, and we are just waiting for Aunt Edna to die so we can strap her to the top of the car. I have the station wagon waiting in the driveway, and as soon as Spring pops up the daffodils I'm going to get the vacation-mobile running again. We'll take a trip to Plainfield and eat four pounds of ground beef at Red Robin. I might even strap the dog to the back bumper and save on the veterinarian's euthanasia bill.

One of my proudest pieces of travel writing was published in AAA Midwest Travel. I wrote about the Hawaiian island of Molokai (highest sea cliffs in the world) and then did a second piece on ocean kayaking for a sports magazine. Earlier this year I also wrote three rather esoteric travel articles about California wine country, including the boutique wineries of Clear Lake, Amador County, and Mendocino County. I skipped Napa valley all-together (too many big names and too many people for my sensibilities). But some day I hope to get back to the lonely California hills to complete my tastings and hike the paths less traveled.

After Christmas, I'll be making my plans for 2011.

Whenever I do vacation, I make it a point to go where the people ain't. If there's a destination that includes seeing other humanity, I'll likely run the other way. I'd rather spend my vacation with a book, a glass of wine, or a hike into the hills where I have to fend off mountain cougars or wild bears. I see another person, I get really angry.

Just ask my wife. She usually stays back at the hotel and sulks.