Diary of a Mad Baby Boomer

Diary of a Mad International Solo Traveler

Dear Diary, I did it. I traveled solo internationally to the south island of New Zealand and came back both mentally and physically intact. Well, as intact as a mad baby boomer can be. Whatever. I know it wasn’t a huge stretch. New Zealand shares an ocean with my homeland of California, it’s language is one I speak (except with a way cooler accent), and the crime rate is pretty much at a “sleep…

Get Mad About It

Just get mad. That’s what I tell myself when I feel like I can’t go on. Can’t take the next vertical step, can’t row another single stroke to move my kayak, can’t push one more pedal to keep my bicycle upright. And it works. I’m not proud of the amount of cussing that went into the last 1/2 mile of my first backpacking trip. It was solo, so nobody got injured from my verbal tirade except maybe my…

Bodie, California – A Wild West Wonder

Dear Diary, It started out so predictably. We would go and see the ghost town of Bodie, California, and then check it off of our bucket list. But it was so much more than that. Whether it was 150 years ago or today, I don‘t think anyone is able to walk out of Bodie the same way they went in. Bodie piques an interest that will never be sated. It stirs feelings that will never be described. As a…

Wallowing in My Bliss

Dear Diary, I know it’s been awhile, but I’ve been busy conquering a mountain. A mountain you say? Yes. I conquered a mountain. From the time I was old enough to look out of the window and take note of what was outside, Cucamonga Peak has loomed large over my very small life. For 57 years, this mountain has given me assurance that some things are unchanging. And when I am gone and come back,…

That Time I Got Hit by the Crazy Train

Dear Diary, I broke a bone yesterday. It’s ok though, the bone is a small one. I know what caused it too, I got hit by a train. Even though I got hit by the Crazy Train 9 months ago…the physical manifestations of a hit that hard take a long time to show themselves. Remember when I wrote about disembarking the Crazy Train back in October? No? You can read it here…Disembarking the Crazy Train.…

My Love Letter to America

Step aside Diary, this post is a love letter for America. My Dearest America, You know how much I love you. Since I took my first breath in your bosom of the mid-west, to the coming of age of realization that I was a person on the beautiful shores of Hawaii, to now having lived most of this life in your incomparable California, I have loved you. I am you, and you are me. I could no more stop…

Piute Springs – A Trek Through Time in the Wild West.

Dear Diary, How appropriate that on the last day of 2015 we took a trek back in time to the real wild west of old. To a place so far off the beaten path that one feels like they might be intruding on unseen activities going on has they have for a thousand  years. We continued our quest of following sections of the old Mojave Road. We headed out to explore a place just off the “old government…

Hole in the Wall, Mojave National Preserve California

Dear Diary, Some of the most memorable trips are those that you decide to take on a whim. This is one of those. And very far off the beaten path. In fact, this one is so far off the beaten path I questioned our sanity on the way there. I definitely questioned who in their right mind would want to live in such a harsh and unforgiving environment. But that would be a rhetorical question,…

Paralyzed Between Pleasure and Pain

Dear Diary, I’m so sorry I have neglected to update you on my most recent adventures off the beaten path, but ever since the Paris tragedies I have been paralyzed between sharing the pleasures of my small little world, and the horrors of the larger one. I was actually at the Inland Regional Center a few years ago at a Christmas party for San Bernardino’s foster children to hand out the gifts that…

A Summer Without Makeup OR This is Me Kicking Mixed Connective Tissue Disorder’s Ass

Dear Diary, Dearest, you took these journeys with me in posts this summer 2015, but pictures are worth a thousand words. This is me pushing beyond the fear, the doubt, and the pain to conquer them all. If I can do it, anybody can. In order of appearance; Crystal Cove (So Cali), Icehouse Trail, Mt. Baldy (So. Cali), Toroweap Overlook, North Rim of the Grand Canyon (Arizona),  Pink Coral Sand Dunes…

Hello My Name is Chris and I Am…

Dear Diary, Hello, my name is Chris and I am an alcoholic. That’s what I would say in front of a crowd of like folk if I were an alcoholic. But I’m not. In fact, I don’t even drink (except about twice a year to remind myself of why I don’t). I generally make such a huge fool of myself when I drink that the regrets linger far too long to make it worthwhile. But that’s a post for another day. What…

Disembarking the Crazy Train.

Dear Diary, Seven years. Seven years is how long it takes for me to think if I try hard enough, I CAN achieve that Norman Rockwell visit with my mother. Seven years is how long it takes for me to forget that we can’t hope for Norman Rockwell, because we are more of a Norman Bates clan. Remember that trip I took to the Redwoods earlier in the summer? I invited my mother to come along. In most…

Supai/Havasu Falls Trip – And How I Survived the Flash Flood of September 2015

Dear Diary, There are moments in time that forever alter the course of your life. Some are planned, some sneak up on you like a thief. This one was the latter, but what this thief took was all of my preconceived notions about FOMO (Fear of Missing Out), judgments of other peoples based on my own lifestyle bias, what a vacation may or may not be all about, and left me awash with a much different…

Dear Diary, I know everybody has pre-vacation rituals. I happen to have at least 3 lists going at once to manage every bit of the what, where, who, when, and how for the time period before, during, and after our vacation. It’s a sickness, I know. When all of the items have been ticked, the bags are packed and in the car, the dog sitter has been paid in advance and left with a long list of…

The Next, Next Big Thing

Dear Diary, I seem to be sensing a pattern that some of my poorest decisions are made on the spur of the moment. Without THINKING them through. This last one was SO poor, it has cost me my next big thing. What could have possibly been so bad that it would cost me so much? What could be so bad that it could not have been easily fixed for something so important? Easy. Blisters. I had gone to the…

This time, I am not writing to my diary. I am writing to you.  You who so inspire me with your wisdom, heart, and bravery. As I read the blogs from those who are willing to bare their souls, I see a level of self awareness that is unprecedented in generations past.  I sense not only a drive to overcome lifetimes of being told “girls can’t play outside” (especially the solo female travelers), but…

The Next Little Thing

Dear Diary, I did it. This city girl backpacked. In the wild. Alone. With wild animals. I knew that I had to pull the trigger on backpacking just so I could answer the question, “am I able”? How can I proceed onto The Next Big Thing if I’m not able to backpack one night alone on the mountain that’s practically in my own backyard? Obviously I survived because I am writing this post. But just…