Categories
Afternoon Adventures

Hiking Multnomah Falls in Portland, OR

Vacation always tests my willpower on eating healthy and keeping up with a semi-regular exercise routine. Actually, deep fried snacks, dark beers, endless sweets, and melted cheese always win. Portland in particular is like a direct assault on my waistline. If I’m not out trolling all of the delicious food trucks or taking home a hefty sampling of Voodoo Doughnuts, I’m partying myself into oblivion while chowing down on beer and cheese dip. Though this time was slightly more tame in the partying sense (hey, I’m getting older), I vowed to be a bit more active to cancel out the gluttonous amounts of food I was consuming.

My friend Jessie and I took her pup Maya for a walk up Multnomah Falls. Greatly unfamiliar with the Pacific Northwest, I’d actually never heard of the falls but I jumped at the chance to do something outdoors that didn’t involve concrete, skyscrapers, or Times Square.

Maya. How could I say no to this cute puppy face?

We settled in the car for a 40 minute drive East along the Columbia River. With the serene views and wide-open spaces, I found myself deep in thought wondering why I haven’t been able to break free from my love-hate relationship with city life on the East Coast. Then Maya farted. And it stunk, bad.

From some angles the two drops don’t look like much, but I’ve heard it’s the second highest year-round waterfall in the US at a total height of about 620 feet. I forgot my tape measurer so I can’t really back that up, nor have I seen any other falls in person. Nope, not even Niagara Falls. I’m slacking.

Standing at the base of Multnomah Falls

We thought twice about hoofing it the entire way to the top and just going up to the bridge instead. That was until I heard some severely overweight—okay obese—mother tell her four-year-old daughter they’re not going on the trail. “You can see it from here” she scolded from the coffee stand near the parking lot. Then she explained to the barista how they’d just finished an exhausting hour of mall walking, and ordered what seemed like one of every pastry on the menu for lunch. I looked at my thighs, acknowledged the feeling of my jeans pressing into my gut, looked at Jessie, and we headed for the trail.

 

Looks like a fun ride
The wannabe photographer in me trying to snap a decent shot

The path was narrow but paved and it wasn’t overly crowded. That meant we were able to maintain a leisurely pace without disgruntled assholes passing us by every ten seconds. So much different than the streets of NYC. It’s just over one mile of back and forth zigging and zagging, surrounded by moss-covered  trees and other green stuff. There were a few crazies running past us at full speed in their running gear, but those people are just insane. And by insane I mean insanely in shape and I am totally jealous.

Along the winding path
Bad place for mold allergies
Everything was covered in vibrant green moss

For that mile we were accompanied by the welcome scent of crisp air and wet pine, and only a few of Maya’s rotten egg tainted farts. The sounds of the cars below were replaced with sounds of the falls at every turn. And there were plenty of views of the Columbia River and the snow-capped mountains of Washington peeking through the trees.

Two states, one picture
The water streaming towards the falls

At the top there was a small, circular gated-in deck for people to take pictures on. But the only thing I wanted to do was jump in and ride the falls back down to the bottom. Unfortunately this wasn’t a safe option, so we just snapped a few pics and made our way back down.

Looking down from the top

As soon as we returned home from our hike we negated any calories burned with a delicious Mexican fiesta. All in all, another perfect day in Portland.

There are few things I love more than a DIY taco station
First plate. Homemade pork and bean tacos with guac and green sauce. OHMYGODgood.
“Yo dog, who invited this guy?”

Categories
Afternoon Adventures New York

Popping My Pilot Cherry: Flying a Plane Over Long Island

I’m a doer. If there’s a way to do something I want to do, then I’m doing it.

My whole life I’ve wanted to fly an airplane but I never thought it was possible without spending like $10,000 on flight lessons or training to become a pilot. Or losing a ton of weight and undergoing plastic surgery to become some old rich dude’s trophy wife and taking his private jet for a spin while vacationing in the Caribbean. So you can imagine how stoked I was to see a $179 Living Social deal for a one hour beginner flight lesson out in Long Island. Once I read the words “…you will actually get to take off, land, and fly the airplane for one hour…” I was filling out my debit card information.

A couple of weeks ago I cashed in on this deal, convincing my friend/work partner Marcus to tag along as my official photographer. I thought maybe the world could benefit from some glorious shots of our plane going down in a rain of fire and metal. We took the LIRR for about an hour from Penn Station to Farmingdale, then walked 40 minutes through suburbia to Republic Airport.

What kind of beads are we talking here?

Faced with the possibility of failed aeronautics, we stopped at an awful choice for our possible last meal—Chili’s. Then we trekked onward towards the watch tower but there was this massive obstruction called Walmart in the way. They had their entire property fenced off for as far as we could see, but just a few yards past that fence was the airport. We only had ten minutes to get over there so we started calculating our fence height to climbing skills ratio. Luckily this nice stranger, Jimmy, overheard us and offered to drive us around this Western Wall of China. I was hesitant about getting into a car with a complete stranger, but I was with a guy so I figured we’d be okay, right? Then I looked in the car and saw a car seat. Ahh, he had kids! He had to be a genuinely kind stranger just helping us out, right? That or he’s an expert kidnapper with a keen eye to detail.

We gave him the benefit of the doubt and got into the car. But I had a plan just in case he was trying to kill us. Before Marcus even opened the passenger door I jumped in the back and pretended that my jacket was caught in the door, so I opened it again just to make sure it didn’t have child-proof locks so that I could tuck and roll at a moment’s notice in case he did try to kidnap us. Thanks Mom for embedding paranoia into my brain for the past 26 years of my life. But you should feel proud that I at least have a plan B when taking chances, and know that we got to the airport unharmed AND untouched.

I was late for my lesson because I stopped to take pictures
The Piper PA-28 Warrior I flew, isn’t she a beaut?

We were a few minutes late so we went right out to the plane to get started. I turned the key to what felt like an airplane prototype—the single engine roared as the entire thing rumbled and shook. Then the instructor had me run through a checklist of buckling up, checking the fuel gauges, basically making sure everything was in working order. Honestly I had no idea what I was checking but I was having a blast playing with all of the buttons.

What idiot trusted me in charge of this thing?
Marcus and I pre-flight
One last Facebook update before hitting the air

After a few minutes of flipping switches and pressing buttons, it was time to drive the plane out to the runway. There was a yellow line I was supposed to keep the nose of the plane centered with. But on this plane there was no steering wheel. Instead I used foot pedals to accelerate, brake, and steer. It was weird getting used to it because unlike a car the pedals are big, you use both feet, and each pedal has two controls for each side of the plane. For instance, if you press on the bottom of the right pedal, the plane will turn right, but if you press on the top of the right pedal, the right side of the plane will brake. And the same goes for the left side.

Some twists and turns later we found ourselves waiting in line behind several planes, listening to all of the ATC correspondence on the headset. We pulled up behind a significantly larger plane and the instructor started talking about catching the backdraft, which made me start to wonder “am I going to be following this huge plane into the air?” and I started having visions of being sucked into the engine Canadian Goose style.

Before long we were sitting first in line, and at this point there were about 6 small airplanes in line behind us. The instructor told me to turn left around the corner to the runway, and then push the throttle as far as it can go. Then once we hit 60 knots, pull back on the steering and we’ll lift right off the ground. It all seemed far too easy, but just like that we were in the air.

The lineup of planes waiting for me to take off
Me trying to reassure Marcus that I’m not going to kill him. Yet.

The ascent. Talk about an amazing feeling. I could hardly see over the dash, but the nose of the plane was pointed to the sky so I knew we were going in the right direction. The feeling of the ground disappearing below was even stronger in the pilot’s seat, and every tiny wind or air pocket threw us several feet and shook us just enough to remind me that I’m only partially in control. Finally it was time to pull the throttle back and level out. Then I had to arm wrestle this giant lever attached to a heavy wheel between the seats to get it to click into place to adjust the trim and maintain a more level flight without having to sit with my hands on the wheel. After that it was smooth sailing, and there were definitely a few moments that I was so fascinated with the scenery that I forgot I was the pilot. Marcus on the other hand, well let’s just say that he suffers from anxiety.

Me straining to see over the dashboard
Marcus having a minor anxiety attack in the back seat

We flew over the Long Island Expressway and headed up towards Connecticut, then we turned out over Fire Island when I finally realized what the compass did. The instructor would turn this dial and a yellow triangle would move to a coordinate on this numbered gauge that I hadn’t even looked at until now. Apparently this is where the plane is guided to, so every time it started turning automatically I kept thinking we were flying crooked and I needed to level out. So essentially I was steering against the plane this whole time.

I should’ve stunt-landed on the beach

Landing was probably the most challenging part because it was slightly unnerving to pull the throttle back and decrease the speed so quickly. Suddenly it was like we were in slow motion, and that was the first point where I realized just how fast we were going in the air. Before long we were aiming down over the Long Island Expressway with the runway in sight which was pretty amazing. It looks just like in the videogames. The lights on the runway signaled that I was coming in a bit high, so we continued to descend quickly until eventually we were hovering above the runway, then boom—contact. The wheels hit the ground and I think we all breathed a sigh of relief.

Coming in for a landing
Touchdown!

Overall I was very comfortable with the whole experience, if not completely enthralled. My mind began to race a bit while trying to level out because I couldn’t help but wonder if those jolts and drops were just turbulence. I began to think about how small the plane was, and noticed how easily the wind seemed to move us. But the feeling of being in control that high off the ground, looking down on tiny New York below us made me feel extremely at peace.

As a bonus, these lessons are good for life and I’m now one class closer to earning my pilot’s license. Maybe one day I’ll be “Pilot Kim,” galavanting the globe one maxed out credit card worth of fuel at a time!

Categories
Afternoon Adventures

The High Line: An Urban Garden in NYC

Are you planning a trip to New York on a tight budget? Or perhaps you’re a nature enthusiast who finds yourself overwhelmed in the concrete canyons of Manhattan? Or maybe you’re a New Yorker with only lint in your pockets after paying rent on an apartment even the Smurfs would feel claustrophobic in. Well you can forget about dinner at The Mercer Kitchen or shopping on Fifth Avenue.

One of the great things about New York is that you can experience it on foot. Translation: for free. But depending on which neighborhood you end up in, sometimes you want to see something a little more scenic than a street full of trend setting hipsters (note the sarcasm here), or smears of dog poo on the sidewalk. If a stroll through a recycled railway garden sounds like a nice afternoon to you, check out the High Line on Manhattan’s West Side.

The High Line is an elevated garden between 10th and 11th Avenues, running through the Meatpacking District and Chelsea. Right now it is only open from Gansevoort to 20th Street, but once it’s completed it will be a mile and a half long elevated park extending all the way to 34th Street. The High Line is built on the former elevated freight railroad track for the West Side Line, but now serves as an urban garden for Manhattanites.

Along the aerial garden’s concrete walkways are lush, green vegetation designed by landscape architects James Corner Field Operations and architects Diller Scofidio + Renfro. You can still see the tracks weaving throughout the plants, but near 14th St they have these great fixed and movable seats on the them for guests to enjoy the afternoon sun.

Although you feel like you’re in a desolate part of the city at times, you’re only thirty feet above some of the city’s best restaurants and bars at any given moment.

This time of year the greenery looks more like a wild brushfire hazard than anything, but the experience is not all about the plants. You’ll see views of the Hudson River, New Jersey, The IAC building by Frank Gehry, and the Empire State Building, while peering down the bustling streets of Manhattan.

There’s even an “urban theater” over 10th Ave at 17th Street- a set of stadium style seating enclosed by glass windows for a unique view over 10th Ave.

Who knows, maybe you’ll see some sort of art exhibit while you’re up there. Or just a corner full of a color that catches your eye.

The High Line is open daily from 7a-10p. Check out their website for more information and upcoming events scheduled. And just a friendly tip: the restrooms are only slightly above what you’d expect in a public park, so plan accordingly ladies.