Old Town Quito Adventure

Mounted swordsman preparing for the weekly Changing of the Guard.

The first thing I notice hiking around hilly Old Town Quito is that everyone has a dog.

Most are big dogs. Most will not be attending obedience school.

The dogs in Old Town bark all day and all night at car alarms, ambulances, and, of course, the barking of other dogs.

The neighborhood of La Ronda was home to poets and other artists during the Modern period.

These dogs are generally working as guardians. They are well fed and attended. The social function of companion animals is just different for Quiteños than what U.S. citizens are used to.

The second thing I notice is lots of police.

There are two or three uniformed officers at every plaza or major intersection.

On the balcony of the apartment where I am staying in La Ronda.

Another surprising fixture downtown: men wandering about selling coca leaf tea.

You cannot find matte de coca tea at the two chain grocery stores in Old Town, but it is entirely legal to purchase and enjoy throughout South America.

It is touted as a cure for altitude sickness. Quito is 2850 meters above sea level. 

To put that into perspective,  Denver, in my home state of Colorado, is 1609 meters above sea level! 

A statue of the Virgin Mary watches over Old Town from El Panecillo.

Things commonly found in abundance in Spanish Colonial capitols are exceptionally well preserved and functional in Quito's Old Town. 

The architectural influence is deep: Stone churches, elaborately carved wooden doors, red tile roofs.

One of Old Town's many churches (San Augustin) which mix local and Spanish elements.

Nearly every available archway or shelter is occupied by a "tienda" or little store. Baked goods, produce, yarns, and durable items are all sold in different tiendas.

There are scads of endearing lunch places, typically run by families. They are affordable, and filled with locals.

I don’t know how the Quiteños decide!

Yours Truly in Plaza Grande for the Changing of the Guard

The big event weekly in Old Town is The Changing of the Guard on Monday mornings at 11 am.

Unlike similar ceremonies in other world capitols, the President of Ecuador is regularly present for the event, waving from the long balcony at the top of the Presidential Palace.

In addition to swordsmen on horseback and pikemen, a marching band plays the national anthem and a choir of schoolboys sings along.

It is a tribute to the people of Ecuador that other nations regard it as stable even though it has had a major domestic war in the last 25 years and an awkward coup attempt as recently as 2010. 

With all the upheaval in Ecuador's history, the regulating contribution of an event like this to the national psyche is estimable!

Neolithic Stone Henge Adventure

I caught the sun rising on the Standing Stones.

Mainland Orkney is so far flung a part of Scotland that most Scots don't ever visit.

My journey began with a six hour bus ride from Edinburgh to Aberdeen, a wealthy oil town with buildings made of glittering granite. 

The public gardens in Aberdeen include an enormous granite statue of Robert the Bruce.

From there, I caught a ferry to mainland Orkney. The crossing takes about 8 hours. 

There are quite a few Neolithic sites on Orkney. One can spend a couple hundred dollars just trying to navigate the island and visit them all. 

Two of the most impressive, however, are absolutely no cost at all to visit and are open 24 hours a day.

The Standing Stones of Stenness and the Ring of Brodgar are among the oldest manmade things on earth. 

They are stone henge monuments. That's the proper name for any stone circle. And they are Neolithic ruins, which means they predate the familiar stone henge monument that the world knows simply as Stonehenge. 

It was not sunny for my visit. Thanks Wikipedia!

Though The Standing Stones were once part of  a complete circle, only 12 remain.

The most significant stone, the Odin Stone, was used by locals to solemnize love relationships as recently as 1810 until the landowner, bothered by a steady stream of trespassers, broke it down. 

Though there is no record of what the Vikings, who built the circles, used the henges for, the thwarted local courtship tradition may point to one purpose.

At the time of my visit, it was late May and there was almost 24 hr sun. 

Still I figured there would be some photographic drama to dawn at the Standing Stones. 

The only drama was high wind and a downpour of rain, however!

The Standing Stones are located on the southern part of an isthmus, a strip of land between two lakes. In the middle of the strip, a single stone stands alone. This is known as the Watch Stone.

I'm 6'5", so you can get a feel for the height of the Watch Stone.

Just like it's partners in either ring, the Watch Stone is spotted with lichens and moss in red, green, grey, and yellow tufts like tiny dried up fireworks.

You can walk right up to these monuments. Touch them. Hug them. There are no guards.

To the north is the Ring of Brodgnar, a complete stone circle, surrounded by a peat bog.

Wikipedia photo of the ring of Brodgar. I tried to touch them all!

The sulphurous bog might have made torches burn brighter. The smell would certainly have overwhelmed the senses. 

The ancient Vikings might not have understood basic chemistry, but they certainly understood theatrics. 

Whatever Happened to Frequency Hopper?

 Matt's bear had his own seat on my recent flight to Denver.

My readership was up to about 2.5K around the time that I returned to the United States from Scotland in 2011.

A great feat for a plucky half-time traveler!

Then suddenly the wire went dead. What happened?

I suffered a junk tech meltdown:

I compose Frequency Hopper on legacy machines.

A glitzy laptop makes one a target for thieves. 

If one busts out a pink clamshell Mac in a busy Athens café there may be snickers of pity, but one gets to keep the laptop when one leaves.

The primary drawback to legacy machines is that they break down.

Pismo, my trusty 2001 Macbook, suffered a shock on the road back from Costa Rica. Pismo was succeeded by Iggy, a  2004 1Ghz g4 iBook.



l to r: Pismo at the base of the Arenal volcano in Costa Rica. Iggy at a desk across from Hulen Lake in Missouri.

When I came back to San Francisco this past August, Iggy suffered a crack in his welding. The Mac repair place said I was better off replacing him than fixing him.

So now I have Pablo, a 2005 1.5 Ghz PowerBook.

After several failed attempts, I rescued data off Iggy with the help of some C-clamps that pressed the pieces of his cracked weld together.

Pablo is more robust and I look forward to many new adventures with him.

In addition, I popped a 32 Gig flash drive with 2 years worth of photos and videos on it.

A consultant in San Francisco wanted $500 to recover that data, a task that mostly requires patience and skill with a solder iron.

While I’m in Colorado, I can get it done for a fraction of that price.

So, that’s what I’m doing to get promised posts to you all.

My flatmates all melted down:

Chez Dale was the site of flatmate drama this past year.

As soon as I left for Scotland, one of my legal subtenants staged a rent protest over the phone and then moved out.

He moved two people into his room while I was gone.  When I returned, both my former legal subtenant and his duo of squatters verbally assaulted me and cyberbullied me.

They called me a liar, framed all kind of personal attacks on me based on my age and my sexuality, wrote a running criticism on my generosity (their rent was under market by several hundred dollars) and basically made my life as difficult as possible.

It took three months of standing my ground and a thousand dollars in legal fees and blood money to get my apartment back.

To add insult, the temporary occupant of my room,  rather than cleaning my room to suit herself, moved my entire library, organized by author and genre, into the mudroom, “because the books were dusty.” 

She placed many of them against a sweating window where quite a few rotted.

How I typically organize a bookcase (l) and a book damaged in my absence (r).

Many books, rare, signed personally to me by authors, were utterly lost to black mold. Those that were not lost were disorganized and I spent many hours recovering what was left over from mistreatment. 

As a writer, I form emotional attachments to these volumes, which mark my twenty years in San Francisco. To recover, I not only had to overcome my anger and sadness and also take time out of my busy schedule to move, sort, and recatalogue 1500 volumes.

I've been working hard:

Travel blogging doesn’t pay the rent. Sometimes it pays the gas bill.

I could hit up travel companies to be my corporate sponsors. And I am aware that Kickstarter gave out more money in grants than the NEA did last year.

But what I do instead is temporary office and event work.

I make about ½ of what my employer charges to do work I am precipitously overqualified for. Some weeks I make enough to pay for a trip overseas, some weeks I make only enough to keep the gas from being cut off at home.

I do some side writing, research and internet work and then I save save save. Sometimes I have a windfall. Recently, I got compensated for work I did almost three years ago.

Since, I can save money on the road over the cost of living in San Francisco, I travel when I can see there is no work.

There has been work. I was fortunate enough to work all but four days between August 1 and President’s Day.

I’ve had some wonderful contracts with some big names. They are no substitute for creating my own employment and seeing the joy in the face of a travel provider when I feature their tour or vacation rental.

I fell in love:

I unexpectedly met Matt on Market Street one night when he was visiting the City from Germany.

He asked me for directions and I gave him my digits.

He called 15 minutes later and we became inseparable.

I asked him to spend the rest of his time in the United States at Chez Dale and we enjoyed six weeks of cohabitation.

He serenaded me with his guitar, went hiking with me, did laundry with me and ate the vegan meals I prepared every night.

His unexpected humor and lightheartedness is what I like most about him.

One night, I made soup with a bay leaf. He took the bay leaf into his mouth with the last drop of soup and then spit it out like a green feather as he made a bird call.

That’s what I’m up against!

Your's Truly and Matt, Matt and Your's Truly.

As the day of his departure drew near, the contradictory nature of the U.S. immigration system for same-sex couples became evident.

If Matt was going back to a country where he could expect to be tortured, imprisoned, or killed for being gay, he could seek asylum. Because he fell in love with a man rather than a woman he would be expected return to Berlin. 

One night at Café Flore, we debated about “flying to Iowa” to get married, but quickly determined it would be of no help.

I took his hand in mine. I looked him in the eye and told him, “WHEN I ask you to marry me, it won’t be because of the federal government! AND there will be a ring!”

It is impossible to see the United State's compelling interest in keeping same-sex couples from marrying, true. It feels personal. It's as though the federal government actually wants to keep us apart or make us miserable.

They are putting red tape in our way, and in the way of hundreds of other couples like us. Red tape that would never put in the way of a mixed-sex couple.

BUT…

Matt's bear looking out over the Rockies.

- My tech issues are nearing an end.

- I have two wonderful new legal subtenants.

- I’m on the road again. This week I leave for Ecuador and Peru.

- Matt comes back to me from Berlin in a few months.  He has a good stateside attorney and good advice from friends in Germany.  We’re determined to be together.

Matt's bear eating his peanuts.

You, dear readers, give me confidence that all these challenges are worth overcoming.

You’ve inspired me with you snail mails and your emails, your comments and your friendship.

Mostly, you inspired me with the stories of your risk-taking: especially those of you who’ve gone abroad to new places this year.

So please keep reading because I’m not done fighting! :)

Raleigh's Crape Myrtle Festival

My pals Sean and Michael walking to the elegant Raleigh Convention Center. Is that a shimmery Crape Myrtle tree superimposed on the upper windows?

What is Crape Myrtle?

If you’re talking about the tree, it’s a dramatic one that grows throughout the south with ruffled flowers of pink and purple.

If you’re talking about the festival, it’s Raleigh’s annual fundraiser that takes place every summer concurrent with the Triangle Pride and Shades of Pride celebrations.

 The Raleigh hotties in attendance worked a mix of cocktail and casual looks. 

Over the past 30 years, the festival has raised tens of millions for North Carolina’s consenting sexual minorities and the HIV positive.

I attended the party last summer, when I visited my friend, politico Sean Kosofsky and his partner, Michael.

Anniversary cake realness

For just a couple bills, we were treated to hors d'oeuvres, slices of fanciful fondant cake, a drag show, fine art, and a silent auction.

 The ladies of "Legends," Raleigh's premiere drag show

Panels from the AIDS Quilt were on display especially for the 2010 event.

The 2011 gala’s theme is “Heroes: There’s One in Each of Us.” Hopefully, this will inspire some cosplay: Raleigh has some hunky mens!

You can purchase tickets here or at the July 30th event, which takes place at the Raleigh's Contemporary Art Museum.

Fort Collins Hot Air Balloon Adventure

A view of the Rockies from the Flights of Fancy basket

The ideal way to see the Rocky Mountains is from the air…preferably the hot air!

My day with Flights of Fancy begins at 5 am. I help owner Pam Fancy hook the balloon trailer up to her truck and drive to the launch site. The field, just East of Ft. Collins, Colorado faces a school and is dotted with prairie dog holes and brush.

Fancy boosting her flying machine with a shot of propane flame.

My job is to unpack the balloon, a silky funnel of motley panels, and then affix the vented dome, one Velcro tab at a time. Fancy and her assistant Curt lace it to the basket and load in the propane tanks.

Three in the basket, ready to ride!

A father/daughter couple from Oklahoma will join Pam and me in the basket. Curt will drive the truck and follow us from the ground.

Fancy has logged hundreds of hot air hours and flown in many of the top races and rendezvous in the West. Her knowledge of the Colorado Front Range is superb. She names many of the structures, mountains, and remote towns.

Our reflection upon the water. 

We glide over a fog hazed lake and catch the reflection of the balloon in the water. Fancy asks us if how high we’d like to go up. We want to go up all the way!

The high altitude makes me dizzy. Even though I grew up in Northern Colorado, I’m very susceptible to a head rush now. My lungs burn when I run here and I can’t ever seem to drink enough water.  Giddy breathlessness, however, seems ideal at 5000 feet.

A soft landing

We touch down after a half hour, in a nearby field. I asked Fancy if she ever has difficulty accessing landing sites. She said once an elderly man promised her she could land in his field and then forgot, but mostly people are glad to see her.

After all, a hot air balloon is like a giant invitation to party. 

We all got certificates to celebrate our achievement!

Once we’ve landed, Fancy breaks out champagne, mineral water, and pomegranate juice and we toast.

 Cheers!

I can’t wait to go up up and away again! 

Dollywood Adventure

signs beside the River Rampage ride indicate a recent anniversary for Dollywood

My friend Bryson picks me up at my Knoxville hostel to go to Dollywood. He has a congenital heart condition, so he gets in at a discount all summer long. And he goes three or four times each summer.

I am initially skeptical that reality-heavy Dollywood will sustain my interest beyond a curiousity go.

Consider how most people read a biography once but return to a good novel over and over. With other theme parks, a reliance on fictional characters, iconography, and familiar mythology creates this type of respite. The burdens of paying the rent and baking bread for breakfast can wait.

Dolly Parton’s life story, however, is different. It encourages visitors to consider their daily lives as opportunities to be heroic.

(clockwise from upper left): Dolly is not hiding her involvement; each ticket has her name and likeness on it. An iconic map makes navigating the many park villages easy. Dolly's home-on-wheels gives visitors a chance to see what life on the road is like for a country musician. The book train for Dolly's Imagination Library.

That understanding begins with Parton’s philanthropy. Beyond Bryson’s gate discount, Parton is the organizing force behind The Imagination Library – an international foundation that provides free books to pre-kindergarten youngsters.

I think about the books I purchased for my niece and nephew, “doesn’t everyone buy books for the children in their life.”

Well, yes, that’s kind of the point. Dolly has a ginormous life.

In nearby Sevierville, Parton established a center for women’s health services. She might as well be helping her neighbor pay for a mamogram.

Everyone I meet on my trip to Tennessee seems to have a story of how they have been personally touched by her benevolence. Her interests employ literally thousands of people in Nashville and Pigeon Forge alone.

Bryson has an interesting way of putting it: “Out here, there are three kinds of money: old money, new money, and Dolly money.”

Yours Truly and my pal Bryson in front of the Dollywood Express that chugs guests to the park's various corners

Among her greater extravagances are the park's Vegas-scale musicals. They run three times a day, simultaneous to one another.

Bryson and I snag air conditioned seats for “Dreamland Drive-In,” a jukebox revue and “Sha-Kon-O-Hey!” for which Parton wrote original music.

Parton’s journey takes on depth for me at the Smoky Mountain Home and Dolly Museum attractions.

The first is a replica of Parton’s two-room childhood home, decorated with treasures from the original.

The second is a museum filled with Parton clippings and displays.

I consider my father’s beginnings on a chicken farm in Oklahoma. How he moved to a house with modern conveniences with my great uncle in Colorado after returning to the US from war. Those were dramatic changes for him and he only lived with one sibling and one parent.

Dolly has eleven siblings!

My chance to feel tiny at one of the many photo op sites in Dollywood

Inside the museum, I read a piece on the opening of the park. People magazine inferred on their cover that Parton was a “hillbilly.”

While this term is now generally recognized as a slur, it's breezy deployment in 1986 must have had an awkward, private impact on the mountain dwellers among her fanbase.

Dollywood has the expected thrills and rides, too. Thunderhead, one of the world’s last wooden roller coasters is here. While the banks aren’t as sharp on wooden coasters, the vibration of the wood enhances the thrill of the steep, slow climbs and delicate freefalls.

My ride on Thunderhead is as smooth a ride as I’ve ever had on this type of frame, perhaps eclipsed only by the defunct Mister Twister which I rode as a child in my youth.

I enjoy the gravity defying loops of the more modern Tennessee Tornado, feeling my feet slip over my head and back again.

Bryson checks the ride site photographs after each ride. I always seem to be smiling broadly with my eyes closed.

(L to R): The grist mill from which delicious baking eminates! The Mystery Mine, a fire danger theme ride with a splash ending, and patrons strolling the Dollywood grounds.

There are eleven unique villages in the park. That doesn’t even include the separate admission water park next door.

I enjoy engaging the spaces between the villages, too.

It is cheering to hear gospel coming from a group performing in a gazebo and know it is musical celebration and not in the service of a fear-mongering liturgy.

At every walkway, Dolly’s hits whisper steadily over the park P.A. system. "Coat of Many Colors," "Nine to Five," and "Here You Come Again." She's been making them for so long, you forget there are so many.

A bald eagle winks his eye at the on-site preserve for non-releasable birds. The smell of cinnamon rolls wafts up beside the waterwheeled “grist mill."

Oh, yes, the park has a professional whittler and a participatory taffy pull.

Can this be happening? I am moved by a theme park!

Pollok Country Garden and Burrell Collection Adventure

Yours Truly relaxing after my walk to Pollok Country Gardens in Glasgow, Scotland

A six mile walk from the West End of Glasgow might seem distant for some, but I grew up against the Rocky Mountains. An absence of thin air, crag, or grade along the route means my trek to Pollok Country Park is relaxing and invigorating.

The Clyde Arc Bridge is a "winking" bridge; one that tilts on an ellipsis

I cross the handsome Clyde Arc Bridge to the opposite side of the river. Over the last two decades, Glaswegians built huge convention centers, office parks, and museums along the banks of the Clyde.

Further south of this divide, Indian and Pakistani immigrants enliven the red-brick Victorian townships. Foreign proprietors have claimed the spaces once belonging to Scotch dressmakers and tobacconists and dressed the windows with glittering saris and hookahs.

Above: the afternoon light filtered through the treetops at Pollok Country Park
Below: Scotland is home to 5 percent of the world's total mosses, making it the richest nation in terms of bryophytes. On this tree alone are 3 of its 1000 varieties.

At the edge of Lochinch, where the park is located, I observe how the highway gives into a thick conifer forest. I can barely extend an arm between the trunks of the thrity and forty foot trees. It’s the kind of forest that would have inspired me to draw stories in crayon on butcher paper when I was a child.

Highland cow and calf

I crash on a park bench of contemporary design carved from calcium hardened wood. On the path to my right, I spy a naturally felled wych elm sprouting ferns, moss, and mushrooms. I walk to my left, and highland cattle come into view.

The cows have just calved. There are four youngsters among the horn-and-shag faces, resting in the shade. I can feel how the air is still wet low to the ground even on this unusually warm day.

The White Cart River

Elsewhere in the park, the White Cart River sounds to me just like its namesake as the footsteps of joggers run past it like a team at a gallop.

The home of the Burrell Collection

The angular cottage I enter next is the Burrell Collection. Burrell was fascinated with the fine art of his time and befriended Rodin among others. Degas “The Rehearsal” is among the famous works Burrell collected. Many spaces in the mezzanine gallery are vacant as the curators lease works out for retrospectives.

Burrell rescued stained glass from deteriorating European cathedrals

Like other industrialists of the time, Burrell also used his wealth to preserve artifacts of the world’s great cultures that were threatened by exposure or neglect. Here, I can almost touch a hand-painted pane of stained glass from a demolished 12 th century cathedral. I see my reflection in Elizabethan armor polished and stacked upright.

A sculptural manuscript from the Burrell Collection

The curators permanently host Burrell’s pottery, sculpture and other fragments from Egypt, China, Japan, Greece, Rome, and Mesopotamia. Burrell’s interest is the only thread that connects them.

I imagine how his friends must have come to understand his perspective on his own life, hearing the story of his choice to acquire a statue of Egyptian revenge goddess Sehkmet, or how, in a market of illuminated manuscripts valued for their gold, he was drawn to the earthy alabaster carvings of a rare sculptural gospel.

One of the old study rooms at the Burrell

Near to the displays are the study rooms where visitors to the collection were once welcomed. Now, the elegant study rooms themselves are a display within the collection. I step in close to the velvet ropes and smell the carved, unfinished mahogany. The early wrought-iron electric lamps are still working!

Yours Truly beside of the carved mantlepieces at the Burrell Collection

Frequency Hopper Update and New Posts Coming Soon!

Yours Truly hugging a tree in the Queen Ann Garden of Stirling Castle in Stirling, Scotland

My tour of Northern England and Scotland winds up this week!

I've had a tremendous time. Most everyone has been super friendly and helpful.

A few points of order:

deltamagnet@yahoo.com or deltamagnet@facebook.com

- At this time I'm soliciting new adventures. If you are the representative of a travel bureau or own a business you would like me to visit, please email me.

- Presently, I have solid couch surfing offers from pals in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and Tehama, Japan. These are my best leads for a 2012 international trip. Nearby B&Bs, upscale hostels, and unique housing situations: please ring me up! The doors are wide open and I'm in planning mode.

- I'm launching two new "ongoing series": Cafes I Have Known and Bookstores I Have Known. If your cafe or bookstore business would like to be featured in a future post, please let me know and I will arrange a visit when next I'm in your town.

- Below are some of the posts I'm organizing for the summer and fall.

I'll be folding in my promised Colorado, Wyoming, and Arizona posts also.

If you'd like a notification when a specific topic is posted, please email me and I will let you know when it is up...

Manchester, England

Salford Lads Club Smiths Room Quest (with video)

Newcastle, England

Segedunum and Hadrian’s Wall Adventure

Glasgow, Scotland

Tramway Hidden Gardens Adventure

Glasgow Necropolis Adventure

Pollok County Garden and Burrell Collection Adventure

Strathyre, Scotland

Right-of-Way to Rob Roy’s Grave Adventure (with video)

Ben Vane Hiking Adventure (with video)

Falls of Dochart and Killin Trail Adventure

Stirling, Scotland

Stirling Castle Adventure

Edinburgh, Scotland

Craigmilllar Castle Adventure

Arthur’s Seat Adventure (with video)

Egilsay, Scotland

Edible Egilsay Adventure

Nashville, Tennessee

Nashville Cycle Tour Adventure

The Columbia Viper and Superhero Tourism

Knoxville, Tennessee

Knoxville Noon Music

Pigeon Forge, Tennessee

Dollywood Adventure

Asheville, North Carolina

Linville Caverns Adventure

Black Mountain College Quest and Montreat Hiking Adventure

Carl Sandburg Connemara Farm Adventure

Raleigh, North Carolina

Crepe Myrtle Pride Celebration

University of North Carolina Greenbelt and Botanical Garden Adventure

St. Louis, Missouri

Going Up In The Gateway Arch

Thanks to all my readers for making these journeys so fun to pursue!

xxoo
Dale