Categories
Adventure Brazil Colombia Guide Outdoor Peru Solo Travel South America Tours Travel

Ten Days in the Amazon on a Budget: Part 1

Part of the reason I chose to do an extended trip through South America was because I couldn’t choose where to visit first on a short vacation: Machu Picchu, Rio de Janeiro, Patagonia, or the Amazon. So naturally, I decided to do them all, plus a bunch of other awesome things in between.

As part of my budget adventure, I planned on taking the three-night slow boat through the Amazon from Leticia, Colombia to Manaus, Brazil because this would only cost me $75 with all meals included, as opposed to the $700+ to fly internationally from Colombia to Brazil (more on this coming soon, stay tuned!). So naturally, it made sense to fit my Amazon experience in during my time in Leticia or Manaus.

(Aside from the cost breakdown at the end, this post is all about the two-day tour I took from Leticia. More info about the other seven days in Leticia, Manaus, and the three-night boat journey coming soon.)

My initial search for Amazon tours brought up a ton of options from Manaus. But they also seemed a bit expensive, and seeing as Manaus is a city of nearly two million, I thought it might be an odd place to go off the grid and spend some time in the secluded depths of the Amazon. Luckily when I arrived in the small tri-border town of Leticia, I met three other solo travelers who wanted to do a tour from there. Since there were four of us it ended up being about 1/3 the price that I was budgeting for one from Manaus, at 240,000 COP (roughly $100 USD). Sold.

We chose the two-day, one-night Javari tour from La Jaganga Hostel, and it was everything I wanted in a quick trip to the rainforest. We considered the three-day, two-night trip, but it really didn’t seem to offer many more activities than the two-day.

The trip took us on the Javari River which separates Peru and Brazil. The idea of an organized Amazon tour was really off-putting to me at first, but it’s pretty much the only option unless you want to end up lost in the Amazon by yourself. Luckily, this didn’t feel like a tour at all. Instead it was just us four and our guide, Francisco, and it felt like we were hanging out with a friend who was just showing us around. We didn’t see another tourist until we were heading back to Leticia on day two.

Francisco
The man, Francisco, and his machete after chopping down some tree branches that once stood in our way

Here’s how our two days went:

DAY 1

We left the hostel around 8:30am in a ten-minute taxi ride to the port across the border in Tabatinga, Brazil, where we met with Francisco. With his round belly and beaming, gummy smile, we all instantly loved him. The five of us jumped in the wooden, canopied boat as Francisco turned in three different directions, pointing out Peru, Brazil, and Colombia. After crossing over to Peru for a quick, yet crucial beer run, we took a leisurely boat ride alongside pink and grey dolphins, brown water, and lush green trees.

Amazon Crew
L to R: Max the German, Josh the Aussie, Francisco the Colombian guide, and Susannah the Colombian

Canoeing through the Amazon

The perfect companion for an Amazon boat ride: rum

About three hours into the ride, we passed a house and waved at the kids as we zoomed past. Next thing we knew, Francisco was turning the boat around to take us for a visit. We climbed the stairs to the wide-open room that hovered over the water on stilts. The family of about nine kids and four adults sat inside, grating and cooking yucca, and spoke Portuguese despite being on the Peruvian side. The kids were in charge of peeling and cutting up the yucca before handing it off to the women to press through a machine and then grating it by hand. Then the man cooked it in a giant pan over a fire, and us gringos ate it by the handful. 

House on the Amazon

Making grated yucca

Cooking the yucca

After our afternoon snack, we continued down the river to another house which was one of only a couple that we passed during the whole 3-4 hour boat ride. Like the last, this house was also on stilts. Since it’s rainy season and the forest is flooded we weren’t able to find dry land to hang up the hammocks, so we stayed the night in this house. It was basically two separate “houses” joined by a short outdoor walkway. One was a fantastic, huge kitchen complete with hammocks, a portable cooktop, a wooden table and bench seats. The other was two stories high, and the main sleeping quarters. The top floor appeared to be for the family, and us guests were split up into rooms: boys in one, girls in the other. Each room had two mosquito-net covered beds and mesh windows that looked right out at the river. The three bathrooms each had a refreshing shower that used rainwater from a tub on the roof, and for the most part you felt like you were showering outside. Quite honestly, it was kind of like a wilderness dream house.

An inside shot of the main sleeping area of the house we stayed in. The downstairs had several different rooms and three bathrooms which you can see into there in the back.

My bed

The kitchen
The ginormous kitchen and baby Victoria who was very curious about my camera

Kitchen

View from the front door of the house. The room in the back is the kitchen area.
Neighbors
I think the family owned this house too, right next door

I unloaded my bag in the room and went for a quick swim because I couldn’t resist playing with the most adorable puppy ever who was climbing on some scraps of wood in front of the house. The water was only about thigh-high, a further reminder that the flooded area around the house is actually dry land during the dry season. Totally unimaginable.

Puppy
Baby puppy! The family pet was walking around on some floating boards trying to figure out how to get back up to the house. I just HAD to jump in the water and play with him!

The family prepared us food which was surprisingly phenomenal. I thought it would be a lot of bland rice and beans like most tours, but again, this was nothing like a normal tour. We had yucca, potatoes and beans, lentils, arepas, pork chops, eggs, fish, piranha, pasta, cucumber and onion salad, carambola juice, camu camu juice, spaghetti, and a few other things I didn’t really recognize but loved the taste. It was like eating at an old friend’s mom’s house; they fed us well and there was a ton food every time we sat down.

Dinner plate #1

Dinner plate #2

The family was so friendly. Apparently they live in town, but they built this house as their kind of getaway house, and to host tourists for an extra income. My only regret is that I didn’t speak more Spanish or Portuguese so that I could’ve conversed with them more like the two in our group who were fluent in Spanish.

After we ate, we set out on the boat again to visit a wildlife conservation area, which looked just like another house on stilts in the middle of the rainforest. When we pulled up in the boat two monkeys immediately ran aboard, climbing on our heads, curling up in our laps, and almost instantly finding and devouring the bag of camu camu berries we’d just picked. The whole time we wandered the property, the monkeys followed us around curiously, hanging from the trees while snacking on fruit and watching our every move.

Pepe, the rambunctious monkey

Monkey Business

Monkey
My flash accidentally went off (seriously, I never use a flash) and this monkey jumped and ran after me while screaming. Scariest moment in the Amazon so far.

Then we got the chance to play with an anaconda that was contained in a wooden shack. Snakes don’t scare me, so I wasn’t so much worried about it biting or choking me as I was about not being strong enough to lift it or take it off without dropping it to the ground and pissing it off. Turns out, with a little help, it wasn’t as heavy as I’d thought and I managed to get a photo with it.

Anaconda
Nevermind the snake, look at this guy’s adorable smile.
Prehistoric Turtle
I think this was called a Mata Mata Turtle, some sort of prehistoric turtle that’s only found in the Amazon region

En español, we learned a bit about the gigantic nearly-extinct arapaima fish and some pretty awesome looking turtles, when suddenly we heard this loud, barreling train-like noise, and looked over to see a wall of rain pouring down about a half mile away and a rainbow forming right in front of us. With my camera and lenses in my hand, two of us sought shelter under the house along with a dog and her pups, a few chickens, and a little girl, while everyone else went up into the house. 

Rainbow

After the brief rainstorm, the sky cleared and we headed to a lagoon to watch the sun set while pink dolphins swam around us. It was definitely one of those “holy shit I’m in the Amazon Rainforest” moments, where my dreams as a third grader were finally fulfilled. Now if only I could figure out a way to see dinosaurs and make it to outer space, third grade Kim would be so jealous.

Amazon Sunset

Sunset on the Amazon

We went back to a delicious candlelight dinner when I realized, and revealed, that this was my first candlelight dinner ever. I think everyone laughed at me. Afterwards, Max and I headed out on a canoe to search for some of the nocturnal animals of the Amazon with the neighbor. This guy had a flashlight that could easily illuminate trees fifty feet away as he searched for the different creatures of the night. It was all kinds of awesome just paddling around this wide open lagoon under the light from a nearly full moon and hundreds of stars. We floated around to the choir of jungle animals as our guide pointed out the different sounds of monkeys, tree rats, frogs, and other Amazonian creatures.

Every so often he’d spot a pair of red eyes and paddle closer. Before I knew it he was pulling small caimans into the boat, letting us hold them before throwing them back in the water. They seemed to freeze up as soon as you touched them, and when we threw them back in the water they swayed their body back and forth like they were still in shock before disappearing.

We also saw a snake swimming through the water, a wide-eyed owl perched on a branch only a few feet away, a tarantula clinging to the side of a tree, and I nearly bashed my face into a bat that was hanging on the side of a branch before it got startled and flew away. It was a truly amazing experience that I couldn’t believe the other two had missed out on by going to bed early.

When we got back, Francisco was partying down with some cachaça caipirinhas he’d mixed up. I tried one but it was a bit too sweet for me, and since I was the only non-Spanish speaker still in the room, I got ready for bed and retired for the night by 10pm.

DAY 2

It started getting light out at the absurd hour of 430AM and the family started stirring about just as early. I looked out the window to see grey skies and decided there wouldn’t be a great sunrise so I went back to sleep.

At a slightly more reasonable hour (about 7AM) I finally got up and showered. After another delicious breakfast, we set out in a canoe to go piranha fishing, which was probably the most hilarious experience of the entire two days. Five of us piled into what probably should’ve been a three-person canoe, without life jackets, and set out again with the neighbor guy. The water was about an inch from spilling into the boat and flooding us out, as we cautiously turned our way into the jungle. Every slight move tipped us to the side as I regretted bringing my SLR on board, so I shoved it in my waterproof bag for safe keeping. After about a half hour we ended up in a pretty strong current, which had us bashing into branches, careening straight for a tree. Josh, the Aussie in our group who was paddling in the front, looked for direction on which way to go but the tide carried us much quicker than the guide could direct us. We crashed right into the tree as Josh calmly stood up, quietly mumbled some profanities, and jumped into the water without even rocking the boat. I knew something had happened, but the slow rate at which he calculated his next move and jumped out without capsizing us was rather impressive. Just as quickly, I realized that he’d just ran right into a swarm of wasps when I saw at least a hundred of them flying around a grey nest. Both Josh and the paddle were being pushed downstream with the current and we kind of just sat there watching as the guide backed us up away from the wasps. Josh eventually climbed back on board with stings all over his face and neck, and I held off on making fun of him until later in the evening.

About an hour and a half after setting out, we dropped our poles (sticks with fishing line and a hook tied on, baited with fish) into the water right in the middle of some shrubbery. Almost immediately I could feel the piranhas biting, but the first few times I pulled the hook up those bitches robbed me of my bait. 

Now you should know that I’m a fairly poor sport. I’m fiercely competitive when it comes to dumb shit. I learned early on that I suck at sports and it’s a waste of energy to get pissed because I suck at soccer, basketball, kickball, running, etc. I just do what I can and have fun. But when it comes to things like bowling, beer pong, Mario Kart, tejo, and apparently fishing, I get livid when things don’t go my way. I focus intently and the only words to leave my mouth are usually curse words. So you can imagine the scene as we all sat quietly in a canoe while the piranhas stole my limited bait right off my hook.

Then the guide caught one.

Then Josh caught one.

Then I got pissed. 

Using that anger, on the next nibble I yanked the hook right from the water and voila—a piranha! I shouted a few obscenities, took some pictures, and to add insult to injury to the piranha, the bait was still in tact when we took it off the hook. I dropped the line back down into the water and felt another bite. Again, I pulled a second piranha up less than 20 seconds later, with the same piece of bait. Talk about killing two fish with one piece of bait, suckersss! 

Lunch! My first piranha catch

 

I was on a roll. At this point, Josh had also caught two and stopped for a smoke, Susannah had given up a long time ago, and I put another piece of bait on my hook. We only had a couple of pieces of bait left, and after my adrenaline wore off I realized what a dick I was for baiting up again when Max had yet to catch a fish and was still trying. After another piranha robbed me of that piece, I reluctantly put the pole down and decided to chill out and let Max try to wrangle one in with the last pieces of bait. He didn’t, by the way.

The ride back to the house wasn’t nearly as dramatic as the ride in, as the guide took the helm and guided us through a calmer area full of giant Amazon water lilies. We returned for our last delicious lunch which also included the freshly prepared piranha. They don’t have much meat on their bones, but piranha meat is delicious. It’s not fishy at all, just super juicy and tender.

Amazon Water Lilies
The giant Amazon water lilies are lined with spikes underneath to ward off predators, and can support around 20kg, if not more
Fish lunch
I took this pic through the green mesh screen of the girls preparing our fish right in the river. If I spoke their language I would’ve offered to help.
Sorry not sorry, piranhas. Thanks for being delicious.

Around 2pm we packed up and left the house for another leisurely ride back to Leticia. We saw toucans and tons of other colorful birds flying in the sky, sloths slowly climbing amongst the leaves, huge towering ceiba kapok trees, and all in all completely different scenery as we cut through the jungle.

I don’t really know what’s going on here, but we were trying to take an interesting selfie.

We made it back to Leticia around sunset, as James Blunt’s “You’re Beautiful” BLARED from the Peruvian border. Definitely a weird choice considering how little English music I’ve heard down here, but it gave us a good laugh.

Should you do it?

Duh, that goes without saying. Visiting the Amazon was one of the coolest experiences I’ve had so far, and I barely scratched the surface. It was a fantastic two days and I really think we saw and did a lot. If you do the same tour during the dry season you’ll probably have more options to hike through the rainforest, sleep in hammocks outdoors, and possibly see even more wildlife. But we definitely got to see much more than I thought we would, and I can’t recommend this experience enough. I would love to go back during the dry season and do a longer trip, but come on, $100 for two days of transportation, food, lodging, and activities? Totally worth it. It’s worth noting that the more people you have, the cheaper it is. And if you need a translator you will pay even more, so it helps to have at least one person in your group be fluent in both Spanish and your native language.

Pricing breakdown for ten days in the Amazon region:
Flight from Bogotá to Leticia: $112 (though one guy I met said he booked one for $40, I have no idea how)
Three nights at La Jangada Hostel in Leticia: $30
Two-day, one-night tour: $100
Three-night boat from Leticia to Manaus: $75 (more on this adventure coming soon!)
Two nights in Manaus: $21 (I redeemed hotel points for a free stay, just had to pay taxes. But you can find a hostel for just as cheap.)

Grand total: $338, averaging about $33.80 per day, plus a little extra for food in Leticia and Manaus.

Categories
Adventure Hiking South America

Hiking Sierra Negra and Volcán Chico in the Galápagos

While in the Galápagos I felt the urge to climb to the highest peaks and peer down into the very things that created the archipelago (probably because volcanoes are obviously some of the most impressive works of mother nature, ever). So my first day on Isabela I set out to hike Sierra Negra and Volcán Chico.

I was told to prepare for any kind of weather—one minute you could be walking in the pouring rain through ankle-deep mud, and the next scrambling over slippery lava rocks in the scorching equatorial sun. So I stuffed my backpack with plenty of sunblock, a poncho, camera gear, and enough water and snacks to last a couple of days if necessary. Knowing how much of a sweaty mess I am, I threw on a moisture-wicking undershirt beneath a tshirt, along with a baseball hat and sunglasses. The only place I was failing were the mesh running shoes I was wearing since I was too stubborn to weigh down my backpack with hiking boots while traveling.

Once I was all nerded out, I jumped in the bus and we made our way up winding dirt roads for about a half hour, passing the occasional hiking resort and donkey hidden in the trees.

Volcan Chico

The truck dropped us off at the hiking trail and we set out in the already-hot morning sun. Within the first few minutes I was sweating and panting my way up an incline that had me double-guessing whether or not I was physically ready for this. Thankfully the clouds moved in almost just as quickly and the dirt path became more level. There wasn’t much to see for the first hour or so, just the occasional misty panoramic glimpse of lush green trees and hills as we walked through the clouds. Luckily the mist was hardly noticeable and the ground was bone dry which made the hike relatively simple.

As we walked we grabbed guavas right off the trees, ripping them open and eating them like we hadn’t eaten in weeks.


Sierra Negra is an active volcano that rises 1,124m (3,688ft) above sea level, and its caldera is the second largest in the world at around six miles wide.

Before we knew it the caldera seemed to appear out of nowhere. As promised, it was massive, and the clouds quickly broke over top of it finally giving way to vibrant blue skies. The entire caldera floor was covered with old lava flows, some areas much darker from the 2005 eruption that lasted for ten days.

At this point I was having a bit of an “is that all there is?” moment. It was cool seeing Sierra Negra, but other than the fresh guavas I wasn’t sold that it was worth the otherwise uneventful hike.

After walking alongside the rim for a bit, we had a fifteen-minute picnic in the shade of a tree while the guide warned us about the strenuous hike that was to come.

“We’ll make our way across a rocky terrain of loose lava rocks for about 45 minutes until we reach the end of the hike. But the walk back is almost entirely uphill, so only go if you have enough energy to climb back. And you better layer on the sunscreen now because there’s no shade.”

Everyone shoved energy bars and bananas in their mouths and took a few gulps of water. From our group of about 20, only one pair stayed behind—a father and his roughly 8-year-old daughter who was already ready to call it quits (yet another reminder of why I’m glad to have zero children).

Within a few minutes of walking the grass disappeared and the only remaining plants were cacti shooting straight out of dried lava. The ground below us changed from brown dirt to red rock to crystalized black lava. I was completely blown away by the size of the lava fields, the hollow lava tubes running down the sides of the volcanoes, and the incredible amount of dried layers piled on top of one another (but the OCD freak in me just wanted to pick and peel at them one by one). Some areas seemed frozen in time—you could see where the lava flow had rolled over the sides of cliffs.

Volcán Chico is more of a collapsed/extinct crater, where several volcanoes have merged to create fissures and mountains within an environment that seems otherworldly. This made for an impressive landscape where you could look in almost any direction and see lava flows that had made their way down to the ocean below. And though we didn’t see any live lava, there were quite a few sulphuric vents with steam rising and ferns growing up inside them from the rocky ground.

It sounds super corny, but once I was standing at the top of that windy peak it was absolutely incredible to get a firsthand look at how the Galápagos Islands were formed through such raw, uninhabited beauty and force.



On the hike back I was one of the first ones to start the trek and I was determined to keep it that way. No matter how strenuous the journey, I refused to let myself look like an out of shape noob. I was going to make this shit look easy.

So we started walking, and I slipped. A lot. My ankles twisted and cracked every ten steps. My non-hiking shoes and short legs were a terrible combination for making my way up those thigh-high steps of loose rocks. We were all chugging water between deep, hard breaths and it was the first time on the hike that nobody was talking. But you could tell everyone was laser-focused on making it back to the picnic area without looking like a sissy.

Finally after what seemed like 100 treks up a grueling real-life Aggro Crags, we were all stripping off our clothes at the picnic area and splashing down with water. We only had a few minutes to rest before setting out for the last 1.5-2 hours downhill back to the truck.

I was back in my room by 330pm, absolutely covered in dirt. I had a grandeur idea of rinsing off in the ocean and napping on the beach, but when I couldn’t gather the energy to walk outside, I laid a towel across the bed and passed out for my first two-hour vacation nap.

IS IT WORTH IT?
Yes, especially because the tour is one of the cheapest on the islands at just $35 (and that includes a bagged lunch). Like I said, the hike up to Sierra Negra wasn’t exactly the coolest thing in the world, but continuing onward to Volcán Chico definitely made everything worth it. So don’t bitch out at the picnic spot. It’s not particularly strenuous, so long as you’re in decent shape and don’t mind getting a little sweaty. Just come prepared with plenty of sunblock, water, and proper footwear and you’ll be fine. When I woke up the next day I could hardly walk because my toes felt like they’d been murdered in those non-supportive shoes. Lesson learned!

Categories
Adventure Scuba Diving

THAT TIME I THOUGHT SCUBA DIVING WOULD BE EASY

It hardly feels like the middle of December to me. Probably because I haven’t bought a single gift, I haven’t been to any holiday parties, and I’m not packing up for the usual snowy week in Ohio, eating my mom’s Christmas cookies for every meal. Instead I’m gearing up for a sunny vacation in a bathing suit and flip flops.

I’ve somehow convinced my parents to go to the Florida Keys this year for Christmas. Weird considering we haven’t taken a family vacation since I was like twelve, and we’ve had the same Christmas tradition going since before I was born. Florida isn’t anywhere near the top of my places to go list, but I figured the Keys were a good compromise—a place my parents could relax, but I could still do some exploring. Plus, I could take advantage of this super chill vacation as a chance to get scuba certified.

I first looked into diving in 2012 before my trip to Thailand. But I just as quickly realized that the Similan Islands were closed or had poor visibility during the rainy season, so I shelved the whole diving thing. So I finally started the coursework a few weeks ago thinking certification was going to be a piece of cake. I mean, ten-year-olds do this shit. I basically grew up in a pool, I’ve been in the ocean countless times, and I’ve actually found myself bored with snorkeling because I wanted to see more. So scuba diving naturally seemed like a good next step.

As soon as I started reading the book and watching the dvd’s, I realized that it wasn’t just a “quick read” like I thought. Each chapter seemed to reveal something potentially life-threatening about the world of diving, and I began to second guess whether or not I was cut out for it. I’m a very simple-minded person who’s easily distracted, and I often have trouble multitasking. I don’t know how good I’ll be at reading a dive computer, watching my SPG so that my cylinder doesn’t run out of air, maintaining neutral buoyancy, remembering to equalize every few feet, remembering never to hold my breath even if the regulator falls out of my mouth, staying on course and close to my buddy, ascending slowly and making a safety stop, all the while taking in all of the sea life around me and not freaking out and jetting to the surface at the site of a shark.

After finishing the books and dvd, I completed my class which involved four quizzes and one final exam. Of course I was the last one to finish each of those, but I did great. Now it was time to actually practice everything I’d learned in five confined water dives at the YMCA pool.

Padi Certification

For my first failure of the day, I wore a two-piece bathing suit. One of our first sans-wetsuit drills was to prove that we can swim 200 meters nonstop, and the whole time I was trying to hold up my bottoms. After a while I got sick of lagging so far behind and just let my blinding white ass hang out, floating above the water for everyone to laugh at as I flailed far behind my classmates.

Through assembling and taking apart our gear several times, I was still feeling pretty confident. Even though the whole setup was crazy heavy, diving was still proving to be relatively easy.

Then it was time to get in the water all geared up and spend the next five and a half hours there. Our instructor walked us through a series of tasks we’d each complete once we were under water, and just like that, we went down for our first set.

Breathing through the regulator was strange at first, but I was still at ease. As long as I could breathe, things were fine.

Then came time for me to remove my mask and continue breathing through the regulator for 30 seconds. Easy, I thought, since I was never the type to plug my nose while swimming. Wrong. I immediately got water up my nose and shot up to the surface. Failure number two. I’d noticed by then that my heart was racing, my eyes were wide, and I was speaking rapidly as I tried to explain myself.

I’d panicked. Just from a little water up my nose.

I had to mentally tell myself to calm the fuck down; I was at the YMCA with a trained professional guiding me for god’s sake. After a few seconds of chatting we realized I may have been tilted slightly backwards, making the bubbles go up my nose. So we went back under and I tried it again, this time tilted slightly forward and I was fine. It was weird, but I did it!

The most important rule in scuba is that you never hold your breath. Ever. So if your regulator comes out of your mouth, you have to keep blowing a constant stream of bubbles until you can get it back in your mouth. We had to practice what to do if you lose your regulator and it falls behind you—swing your arm down to touch your leg, back to touch the tank, circle it around towards you, and your regulator should be there. Of course for me, it wasn’t there because I didn’t reach back far enough. Failure number three. At this point I’d exhausted all of the air in my lungs and I had no clue where my source of oxygen was. I was now holding my breath because I had nothing left to push out and no way of inhaling. All in one go, failure number four and panic attack number two, ten feet below the surface. I began grabbing aimlessly for my regulator, and almost reached for my emergency second stage before the instructor handed me my regulator and I breathed in the most glorious breath of air ever. I felt like a huge idiot. Again. This was becoming a theme.

Then it came time to swim a little more than the length of the deep end, regulator in, while breathing out just one breath and making an “aahhhh” sound. On my first try I only made it about halfway before I had to breathe in. Failure number five. I had to go back and start over. This time I was nervous, cold, and I really had to pee. When he gave me the signal to swim, I whipped the regulator out of my mouth and began swimming. He immediately signaled for me to put my regulator back in, and I thought I did something wrong so I just kept swimming and breathing as usual. He pulled me above water and I realized in my flustered state I wasn’t supposed to remove the regulator. I told him I felt like saying “ahhh” released way too much air from my lungs way too quickly, so he suggested I try making more of a hissing noise. But first he made me take a break at the bottom of the pool while the other people did it flawlessly. I took that chance to calm down, focus on my breathing and my buoyancy, and before you know it, it was my turn again. This time, making the hiss noise, was SO much easier. I could’ve swam twice as far on that one full breathe.

Snorkeling in the British Virgin Islands

 

All in all, I only inhaled a mouthful of water and choked on it once. But that was once more than anybody else in our class so of course I felt like an idiot. Sure a few things took me a couple of tries, but I got it. And before long I’d passed the confined water dive ahead of schedule.

It’s not that scuba diving is necessarily difficult, but you do actually have to think about every single move you make. Which, well, that’s not really my thing. I just kind of “do,” and somehow it all usually works out. But when I’m under water and I can’t breathe, my body just tends to react. I have to learn how to control that, otherwise I’ll definitely die in any emergency scenario.

I think as far as learning to become a better diver goes, it’s just a matter of trial and error to figure out what comes naturally for me so I can handle these situations in a way that comes naturally to me, rather than trying to remember the textbook way. Hopefully in this case practice makes perfect!

It’s hard to believe this was only the confined dive, in a wave-less pool of 10ft of water. I don’t really know what to expect in next week’s open water dives, but I’ll admit I’m actually a little nervous. I’m also excited to see the underwater world, so I guess this is a good example of stepping out of my comfort zone and (hopefully) accomplishing something I was unsure I could do.

Fingers crossed I don’t end up with the bends, spending Christmas in a decompression chamber!

 

 

Categories
Adventure Europe Switzerland

VIDEO: PARAGLIDING OVER THE ALPS IN INTERLAKEN

Okay. I’m going to have one last “poor me moment” about that time I flew all the way to Zurich and took a train to Interlaken with the sole intention of skydiving over the Alps, but was unable to do so when Mother Nature decided I wasn’t worthy of such fun. There, done. Now I can tell you all about how I tried to make up for it by paragliding.

On my last afternoon there, I walked into Balmers and started whining to the chick at the front desk about how I needed some excitement because I certainly couldn’t afford to sit around and eat in Interlaken (seriously my last ditch effort to save money by eating at McDonald’s cost me about $34). Since it was already pushing noon, the only option I really had was paragliding. It sounded promising, so I jumped in a car with an older, silent man before being dumped off at the wide open landing field a few blocks away. I was a little confused, but I followed some random guy whose accent I could barely understand, and before long I was quickly rushed into an unmarked van along with a few other confused Swedish and Chinese tourists, lead by four jacked-up European men.

Our van zig-zagged up the mountain, the green grass disappearing and the snow and cloudy haze getting thicker. I changed out of my mesh running shoes and strapped on some heavy hiking boots that, based on the warm, sweaty insides, someone else had just taken off. They dumped us off to walk the rest of the way uphill which is where I realized how pathetic my body was. I desperately tried to hide my heavy breathing while trekking up the slippery incline in my oversized boots. All the while my tandem gliding partner was walking full speed like he was in the mall walking olympics and holding conversation without missing a beat, even with his gigantic loveseat-sized pack strapped to his back.

After we set up and laid out our canopies, we waited. And waited. There was a stick in the ground with a red and white ribbon blowing in the nearly nonexistent breeze. Apparently this was their way of determining which way the wind was blowing and how hard so that we didn’t float off the edge of the cliff and right into the side of another.

Paragliding in Interlaken

After I got bored of standing around playing guessing games as to when we’d finally make a run for it, my tandem gliding buddy hooked himself onto me and got all intense again.

“Now this is the important part. We have to go at exactly the right moment, or else it could be bad. So when I say run, you run, got it? And I don’t mean just a light jog or a brisk walk, you run faster than you’ve ever run in your entire life until we take off from the ground. K?”

I didn’t know if he completely missed seeing that I was only 5’2″ or what, but here I was with a grown ass man strapped to my back along with what felt like a small sofa attached to him, wearing clunky man boots that were about three sizes too big, and this guy wants me to run down a slippery, icy hill without falling on my face. Right.

We continued to wait. And wait. Then out of nowhere we heard “baaaaa!” Right in our running path a herd of sheep had broken through a hole in the fence and started making their way uphill curiously towards us. At first it was cute watching them dig in the snow to try and eat the grass below, but all of a sudden baby sheep were running all over the fucking place. The guides were nearly pissing themselves with laughter, saying this has never happened before as they started baaaing back at them. But that only attracted the sheep more and they continued to make their way up towards us. And they were hungry. Finally one of the guys had to unhook himself and run down to scare them off. But of course this was also the exact moment the wind changed directions and I was told to run, NOW.

I ran like Usain Bolt. Actually no, I pitter-pattered down the hill rather pathetically until a gust of wind grabbed ahold and threw me down in the snow. Just as quickly that same gust lifted us up slightly, dragging my legs long enough to scoop up two boots full of snow, then launched us off the cliff.

It wasn’t even a windy day but the guide kept saying that due to our “excellent running speed takeoff” (hell yeah, way to go little legs!) we were able to get more speed than most people. I got a well deserved pat on the back.

At first it was pretty cool when you suddenly realize that you’re floating and gliding through the air. But then it became oddly comfortable and a little…boring. The wind was chilly, drying out my lips and making my eyes water, and the view didn’t really change much during the whole 15 minute flight. Plus it was much more secure feeling than I thought it would be. I wanted to feel like I was falling or flying, something comparable to what I’d imagine skydiving would be like. But instead I felt safe, in a heavy box propelling through the sky almost with as much control as if there were an engine. And the whole dude on my back thing wasn’t a particularly liberating experience.

So while it was definitely awesome and I’d definitely do it again in a heartbeat, I had the same problem with paragliding as I do with most things I do. It left me wanting to go faster and higher, and I wanted to do it alone. I felt like a brat, but I asked my instructor guy to go a little crazy, so he started spiraling us closer to Earth towards the end.

Enough of my babbling, I’ll let this little video montage do the job. But beware, the last few seconds can be a bit dizzying!

(PS click through the link below the video to watch it in HD.)

Interlaken Paragliding by Just Visiting, Music: “Option” by Crosses.

Categories
Asia

Why You Should Only Spend 007 Seconds at James Bond Island

You know those touristy things that you really don’t want to do, but you kind of feel like you have to? For me, visiting James Bond Island was one of them. It just sounded like another overpriced, overcrowded outing, especially since I’ve never seen any of the movies. (I should confess now that I’ve actually never really seen ANY movies. I didn’t even realize that I actually liked movies until about 2007, and by then I already had a pretty faithful time-wasting commitment to the internet.)

I paid about $75 USD for yet another day tour from some random company through my hotel. Unfortunately the entire day was quite underwhelming. At most it was nothing more than a sightseeing tour for lazy people.

My tour van left for Phang Nga Bay around 8am with an Australian honeymooning couple (again). On the way we stopped at Monkey Temple (again), and while we were inside it started pouring down rain (again). Like, couldn’t-see-the-monkey-flying-towards-your-face rain. Luckily we didn’t stay long before continuing on for some sea-canoeing.

Lovely trip mates. But I crashed their honeymoon, so the guy decided to photobomb me.

I was SUPER excited for the sea-canoeing. I mean it’s basically kayaking, right? How sweet was it going be to paddle through limestone rocks and get lost in hidden caves? Turns out, not that fun when you’re not the one doing the paddling. Yeah. They wouldn’t let me paddle. I even tried to bribe them to get my own raft but they made me jump into one with a guide and stick close to the other groups. Ughhhhhhh. So boring. It wasn’t even like I could go on an epic photo-taking mission either because the weather was horrible and all of the shots looked like shit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still glad I got to see all of this, I just think that of all the days I spent in Phuket I really wish the weather would’ve cleared up on this day—at least for an hour or so. The biggest reason I was so excited about Thailand was to see those limestones jutting out of the turquoise waters and into the bright blue sky. Instead they were hidden in a hazy sky, and they just lacked that wow factor that I’d seen in so many great photographs.

I wish this was my back yard


More limestones. More clouds.

At one point I had to lay flat in the raft so we could make it under this low-lying limestone to make it into the cave. A wave came along and I definitely hit a few jagged edges, but no damage.

Lying on my back, trying to snap a pic on the way out of the cave

Inside a cave full of bats and tourists
Too. Many. Tourists.
I got a paddle lodged in my head.

After tipping my tour guy 50 Baht (all of the other tourists were doing so, right in the open. I felt obligated) we headed on to Khao Tapu, better known as James Bond Island, where The Man With The Golden Gun was filmed. Having never seen the movie, my “that’s cool” moment lasted about .6 seconds. But the tourists. Oh my God. Sure that giant rock looks all secluded and shit in the pictures. But photographers really need to turn around and take a snap of the spot they were standing to get that shot. And go figure, it’s just like another gigantic flea market with EVERYBODY trying to sell you something!

Would’ve been so much prettier with a blue sky
This was my half-assed Captain Morgan pose.
From the other side of the lens: the side they don’t show you in all of those pretty travel books

Thirty minutes later I used the squat toilet and rinsed myself with a probably super clean communal cup of water before jumping back into the longboat. The ride over for lunch was probably the best part of the day, and not just because I love food. We cruised around the bay until reaching Koh Panyi, which oddly reminded me of  a neighborhood from District 9 (yes I’ve seen it, it came out after I was hip to movies, in 2009). The guide informed us that Koh Panyi was built as a fishing village in the eighteenth century by a group of nomadic fishermen. Back then people of non-Thai descent weren’t allowed to own land so they got crafty and built up a village on stilts. Since then it’s become a main lunch stop on these Phang Nga Bay tours, but it didn’t feel very touristy at all outside of the restaurant. It was actually quite fascinating to see these people emerge from their houses over the water. I couldn’t help but wonder if they ever get seasick.

 

I question the stability of these docks.
How bad would it suck to live here and then find out that you’re a sleepwalker?
This was right before he dumped some black shit into the water


I’ve heard that you can find self-paddle tours out in Phang Nga Bay. I highly recommend doing one of those instead. And if you’re hoping for some awesome pics, I’d go on a sunny day and possibly even closer to sunrise or sunset. Other than that, if James Bond Island is a must then make it a quick must, but definitely set aside some time to explore Koh Panyi.

Categories
Asia

Getting Down and Dirty on ATVs in Thailand

Every day in Bangkok I found myself chugging endless amounts of water while wandering around in the hazy, humid streets wondering why I was sweating so much more than everybody else. I could hardly wait to spend five days soaking up the sun on Patong Beach. Unfortunately Mother Nature had other plans.

If there is one thing I could say about my time in Phuket during rainy season it’s that it was in fact, rainy. And I don’t mean a tropical shower here and there, I mean downpours, all the time. It became clear very quickly that I would have very little time to work on my tan, so I started looking for a plan B. So one grey, dreary day I figured I’d embrace the wetness and go on a white water rafting and ATV riding tour from my hotel.

So this happened. For like five days straight.

I don’t usually do tours, but since my aimless wandering abilities were severely hindered by the weather I figured it couldn’t hurt to get out and be social. The plan was to go rafting during the rainy morning hours, have lunch, then hopefully the rain would let up before it was time to go four wheeling. The tour bus picked me up in a car full of honeymooners—a type of crowd I was becoming all too familiar with. Except this tour actually had one other lone traveler besides myself! Yes, we hung out.

We stopped at Monkey Temple, which is basically a cave with monkeys going bananas for bananas out front. Packs of tourists were feeding them as they hissed, screamed, and fought each other, while climbing up people to try and steal something for ransom of more bananas. Frankly I was a little nervous about some rabid monkey attacking my face so I opted to keep my distance from the ones that looked particularly crazy.

Mama and her baby
His face says “Duuuuurrrr, look at this banana!” but his balls say “look at us!”
Yeah, no thanks.

After realizing that monkeys are angry little scavengers, we drove out into the  jungle for my first white water rafting experience. I figured Thailand was as good a place as any to embrace the wet weather and try rafting. I had no idea what I was supposed to wear so I followed suit with the other girl in my raft and stripped down to my tank top and bikini bottoms. The first rapid proved what a stupid idea this was. I got a huge wedgie, exposing my bare white ass cheek to everyone in my raft and behind me. And I was too busy trying not to lose my paddle or fly out face first onto a rock to pick it out. And that’s not even the worst part—the hits had pushed me back onto the guy behind me so his knee was nearly up my butt with every bump. Yeah, not cute.

Could my head be any bigger?
Waiting for the dam to release

At first I was too focused on staying in the raft and recovering from my wardrobe malfunction to realize that I had transformed my body into a stiff block of cement basically just waiting for disaster. Then I realized I need to loosen up a bit and move my body WITH the raft rather than be violently surprised whenever we hit a rapid. But this wasn’t until after I hit the guide in the face with my paddle. It only took me three minutes to violate the one rule of keeping your oar in the water. And here I was worried that I was going to lose the thing.

Strategically placed waterspot over the face I’d just smashed with my paddle
Sorry for the ass in your face, guy
Rafter pileup
Trying, and failing, to get a decent action shot

Miraculously I got the hang of it about five minutes in and made it down the river without falling out of the raft. But at the end I was ready to get into some dry clothes. But Mother Nature took that as a cue to dump more rain on us, monsoon style. We raced through the winding mountain roads in the bed of a canopied truck to eat some lunch and hope for the rain to let up. Of course while all 30 of us were eating they played the highlight reel from the rafting—so everyone got to see me nearly kill the instructor all over again.

Seeking refuge from the rain with a group from Singapore
Nothing to complain about on this rainy drive

The rain never let up so I decided to just embrace the fact that I was going to get wet, and hopped on the four wheeler. The jungle looked perfect. The clouds were hanging low through the mountains and trees. There was mud everywhere. And the warm rain dripped from the thick canopies of leaves. Suddenly I was glad that I’d chosen to go four wheeling on a rainy day. Once I accepted the fact that I was going to get wet and muddy I had the time of my life. I was a little cautious when we first started on the wide open flat paths, but five minutes in I was feeling like a bit of a badass and I started flooring it up steep hills and off-road paths. We climbed up muddy slopes while dodging tree branches and steering into the mud puddles. We finally got to this valley where we drove through about a foot of water when I decided to start a water fight with the other single guy I’d been torturing all day (yes the same poor guy I had my bare ass on just hours earlier).

Why is this not my back yard?
Feeling like a badass in my pink helmet
Riding out to the jungle
Trying to stop for a pic of the water without letting the guy behind me catch up, because I’m competitive like that

Right before speeding down a 20 foot hill and getting a mouth full of mud

When we finished I was soaked and covered head to toe in mud—but of course my camera died. I was ready for more but we had to rinse and dry off for the two hour trek back to our hotels. Sigh.

I really cannot put into words how amazing it felt to just say fuck it and enjoy getting messy for a change. I don’t think I would’ve had as much fun going four wheeling or rafting on a clear, sunny day. Lesson learned; don’t let shitty weather stop you from having a blast. Just figure out how to use it to your advantage.

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
Press

This Week’s “Lost Girl of the Week”

Lost Girl of the Week: Kim Merritt

If you’ve never heard of them, The Lost Girls are three friends who left their lives in New York City for a year of adventure and inspiration around the globe in 2006. (They’re basically three girls that I wish I had met long ago and could now call friends of my own.) They developed a website to share their experiences with other like-minded nomads, and to this day, Lost Girls World has become the “premiere travel and lifestyle website for young women.” Whether you’re looking for advice on a trip around the globe, tips for dropping the 9-5 and working on island time, or ways to add more adventure into your everyday life, Lost Girls World is sure to be a valuable addition to your RSS feed.

Each week they feature a “Lost Girl of the Week,” and I’m excited to share my very own story—and inspiration behind Just Visiting—as this week’s “Lost Girl.” Check out the path I’ve taken to get where I am today, and why I’m still trying to figure out where exactly that is. Check out the entire story here: Lost Girl of the Week: Kim Merritt