Everyday I would think to myself "I really need to update my Legacy Family Travel blog!", and everyday, til now, I never did it.
For now, I'll just give you a brief overview of what is happening currently:
Today, Royal Caribbean announced their 2013 Alaskan Cruises and Cruisetours!!! I will be putting some groups together for roundtrip from Seattle, North or South bound 7-night cruises, and best of all, 10-13 night cruisetours. Grab some friends and make your deposit early for best pricing.
Also, Royal Caribbean is offering Military and Police pricing on some sailings for this Spring and Summer. Destinations include Eastern Caribbean, Western Caribbean, Bermuda and Alaska.
Come August of this Summer I will be leading a group a group of intrepid travelers to Alaska. We will set sail from Vancouver on August 12 for a 7 night cruise aboard MS Stadendam, then spend 7 days on land in the interior of Alaska to experience even more of our Last Frontier. I have 4 more staterooms available. Let me know if you want one. The link for this particular sailing is as follows:
http://www.hollandamerica.com/find-cruise-vacation/CruiseTourDetails.action?subProductCode=AD3&portCode=YVR&durationCode=3&dateCode=8_2012&flexibleMonths=false&noOfFlexibleMonths=1&pageNumber=1&tourId=T2AD7C&voyageCode=S240&webItineraryIdForAudit=ANS207D7C
(Not sure why I can't get this link to be hot, please copy and paste into your browser.)
Disney's newest ship Disney Fantasy sailed into New York Harbor last week. She will soon begin making 7 night journeys to Eastern and Western Caribbean out of Port Canaveral. A Disney cruise is like no other. You have to experience it to believe it! Take a look at the Disney Fantasy's entrance into New York here:
http://maritimematters.com/2012/03/disney-fantasy-a-new-york-maiden-arrival/
And last but certainly not least, Deer Valley Ranch has a few openings left for the Summer. Don't wait to book your week - reservations have a tendency to get taken up pretty quickly at Deer Valley. For those of us in Colorado, this is a non-air required vacation, cutting your vacation costs considerably. If you love the mountains, the outdoors, horses, hiking, whitewater rafting, the best service anywhere around, and eating great homecooked meals, this may be for you. Take a look at this family haven at www.deervalleyranch.com . Maybe you'll join my family the first week of June???? Give me a call and let's see what we can arrange.
Thank you so much for reading my blog. Since 99% of my business is word-of-mouth referrals, I'd sure appreciate it if you would tell at least one person about my blog, my facebook page, and my website. Referrals that result in a booking get nice gifts once the booking is complete.
Hope you all have a beautiful day! Happy Vacationing!
Blessings,
Laurie
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Deer Valley Ranch Extraordinary Offer!
No, seriously! If you book the ranch package at our favorite place on earth by April 15, 2011 for your family, you can save up to 25%. In the words of Barney Fife, "That ain't nothin to sneeze at!"
Here are a few photos to get your attention:
Here are a few photos to get your attention:
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| Crossing Chalk Creek with Adobe |
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| Campfire up in the Rocky Mountains |
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| Wrangler's Breakfast - paying respects to The Stars and Stripes |
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| White water rafting on the Arkansas - included in your package! |
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| Cogan's Ranch ride |
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| Happy horses, happy girls |
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| Tiny Town and the Deer Valley Ranch Players |
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| The lodge, the Chalk Cliffs, Mt. Princeton and Old Glory |
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| Square dancing under the stars. |
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| This horse loves Jeff! |
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| Sunset over Deer Valley |
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| Our Hero! Founder of Deer Valley Ranch, Parker Woolmington. In his 90's and still going strong! |
Give me a shout and we'll fix you right up!
Space is limited so don't drag your boots, uh, feet!
719.683.8733
888.87LEGACY
Friday, April 8, 2011
Journies
I never intended to contribute to this blog only semi-annually, but here I am, almost 6 months after my last entry. My world has changed since the day I wrote that.
If you'll remember with me, I wrote about some of my travel memories that surrounded my family as I was growing up, and specifically, my Daddy. Just a few days after writing, I got on a plane and headed for Douglasville, Georgia, to see him. I made 3 more trips after that to see Daddy and Anne. It saddens me to write that the next trip I made was with my husband and daughters to attend Daddy's funeral.
On January 23, 2011 he took the greatest journey of all - he went to be with Jesus. His crossing was not as easy as I would have like for it to be, but it was time. His lungs just couldn't support him any longer. With the completion of his life here on earth, a new journey began for Anne, Cindy and me.
For Anne, it's kind of back to square 1, where she was when she and Daddy began their 'more than a friendship' relationship. Her first husband had passed away in 1986 in a plane crash, so she was single for quite a long time. Now she's single again. I have learned so much about grace from watching her handle this whole thing. She could have come down pretty hard on the funeral home for forgetting to take Daddy's wedding ring off before he was buried, but she was amazingly gracious. She seems to have the right balance of grieving and living. Her journey is a familiar one.
Cindy and I are still getting used to the fact that Daddy's gone. He didn't look at all like himself at the funeral home - he was actually the spitting image of our Granddaddy who died in 1966 or something like that. Neither of us have gotten past the point where we unconsciously question if all this really happened. We still have the tendency to pick up the phone to call and tell him something. And the realization that you don't have either of your natural parents is a pretty tough thing to deal with.
All these steps we must take are part of our new journey. Grieving is a journey. But it isn't an ordinary one where you start at one place and go straight to another. This one involves backward steps, circles, long and drawn out stops, lots of tears, and there is no rhyme or reason. I much prefer a cruise with an itinerary that shows you what port you will be at on which day. Grieving is SO not like that. Sometimes it's hard to put your finger on when it begins, and I'm not sure it really ever has an end. What do you think?
My Mama passed away in 1998 from cancer. She was 59 years old. Her life journey was far too short in my eyes. Psalm 139 tells me it wasn't, so I have to believe it was her time. After her death, the journey I began was very dark, and I experienced a kind of hopelessness that I'd never felt. Often times I would say that I wished I had died with her. I sincerely thought that I would never be happy again. I couldn't come up with anything that I thought would ever bring me joy. Further along in my journey I discovered that I was wrong - we found out just 3 months after Mama's death that our Mariah would be joining us the following January. The journey was still very difficult, but our merciful Lord gave us some sunshine to help us traverse those darkest places.
You may think this subject inappropriate for a travel blog. I disagree. Our lives are filled with journies. Some are thrust upon us, others we choose. In either one, there are memories to be made and to be held on to.
I am grateful that every time I land in Atlanta and roll past the Delta jetbase I can almost smell the jet fuel. It brings back vivid memories of visiting the jetbase with Daddy and running through the airplanes looking for loot - playing cards, peanuts, Delta pilot wing pins, anything left behind by a forgetful traveler or stewardess (it was okay to call them that in those days). I am grateful that Daddy cared enough about his little girls that he wanted to show us the United States. I can't fathom that he was philosophical about travel like I am, but nonetheless, my memory bank is in good shape thanks to him.
Having said that, oblige me by letting me say that this journey is just a little bit less traumatic. Every day I know that God is good. I have come to appreciate my Stepmother in a way I would never have dreamed. The bond between my sister and me grows steadily stronger. My extended family gives me stability like never before. I treasure my aunts, uncles, cousins of 3 generations, and the family that God has given us through our years of moving around.
A little analogy: I began my journey long ago expecting to end up in, say, Florida. Everyone goes to Florida. But as my family has changed through time, I feel like I have ended up with something kind of foreign and exotic - a Disney Cruise instead of Florida. Both are fabulous, both can offer extraordinary rewards and experiences. A Disney Cruise is not what I expected and can be a little scary at first. After all, my friends went to Florida. But once I get used to the idea I will begin to find its positives. For now, it is my job to make the most of my Disney Cruise. My Florida may await me in heaven.
I have waxed on and on about life's journies. In my next blog (which I hope will be written in less than 6 months!) I want to share with you about a journey of another kind - our recent Western Caribbean cruise on Holland America's Nieuw Amsterdam.
If you'll remember with me, I wrote about some of my travel memories that surrounded my family as I was growing up, and specifically, my Daddy. Just a few days after writing, I got on a plane and headed for Douglasville, Georgia, to see him. I made 3 more trips after that to see Daddy and Anne. It saddens me to write that the next trip I made was with my husband and daughters to attend Daddy's funeral.
On January 23, 2011 he took the greatest journey of all - he went to be with Jesus. His crossing was not as easy as I would have like for it to be, but it was time. His lungs just couldn't support him any longer. With the completion of his life here on earth, a new journey began for Anne, Cindy and me.
For Anne, it's kind of back to square 1, where she was when she and Daddy began their 'more than a friendship' relationship. Her first husband had passed away in 1986 in a plane crash, so she was single for quite a long time. Now she's single again. I have learned so much about grace from watching her handle this whole thing. She could have come down pretty hard on the funeral home for forgetting to take Daddy's wedding ring off before he was buried, but she was amazingly gracious. She seems to have the right balance of grieving and living. Her journey is a familiar one.
Cindy and I are still getting used to the fact that Daddy's gone. He didn't look at all like himself at the funeral home - he was actually the spitting image of our Granddaddy who died in 1966 or something like that. Neither of us have gotten past the point where we unconsciously question if all this really happened. We still have the tendency to pick up the phone to call and tell him something. And the realization that you don't have either of your natural parents is a pretty tough thing to deal with.
All these steps we must take are part of our new journey. Grieving is a journey. But it isn't an ordinary one where you start at one place and go straight to another. This one involves backward steps, circles, long and drawn out stops, lots of tears, and there is no rhyme or reason. I much prefer a cruise with an itinerary that shows you what port you will be at on which day. Grieving is SO not like that. Sometimes it's hard to put your finger on when it begins, and I'm not sure it really ever has an end. What do you think?
My Mama passed away in 1998 from cancer. She was 59 years old. Her life journey was far too short in my eyes. Psalm 139 tells me it wasn't, so I have to believe it was her time. After her death, the journey I began was very dark, and I experienced a kind of hopelessness that I'd never felt. Often times I would say that I wished I had died with her. I sincerely thought that I would never be happy again. I couldn't come up with anything that I thought would ever bring me joy. Further along in my journey I discovered that I was wrong - we found out just 3 months after Mama's death that our Mariah would be joining us the following January. The journey was still very difficult, but our merciful Lord gave us some sunshine to help us traverse those darkest places.
You may think this subject inappropriate for a travel blog. I disagree. Our lives are filled with journies. Some are thrust upon us, others we choose. In either one, there are memories to be made and to be held on to.
I am grateful that every time I land in Atlanta and roll past the Delta jetbase I can almost smell the jet fuel. It brings back vivid memories of visiting the jetbase with Daddy and running through the airplanes looking for loot - playing cards, peanuts, Delta pilot wing pins, anything left behind by a forgetful traveler or stewardess (it was okay to call them that in those days). I am grateful that Daddy cared enough about his little girls that he wanted to show us the United States. I can't fathom that he was philosophical about travel like I am, but nonetheless, my memory bank is in good shape thanks to him.
Having said that, oblige me by letting me say that this journey is just a little bit less traumatic. Every day I know that God is good. I have come to appreciate my Stepmother in a way I would never have dreamed. The bond between my sister and me grows steadily stronger. My extended family gives me stability like never before. I treasure my aunts, uncles, cousins of 3 generations, and the family that God has given us through our years of moving around.
A little analogy: I began my journey long ago expecting to end up in, say, Florida. Everyone goes to Florida. But as my family has changed through time, I feel like I have ended up with something kind of foreign and exotic - a Disney Cruise instead of Florida. Both are fabulous, both can offer extraordinary rewards and experiences. A Disney Cruise is not what I expected and can be a little scary at first. After all, my friends went to Florida. But once I get used to the idea I will begin to find its positives. For now, it is my job to make the most of my Disney Cruise. My Florida may await me in heaven.
I have waxed on and on about life's journies. In my next blog (which I hope will be written in less than 6 months!) I want to share with you about a journey of another kind - our recent Western Caribbean cruise on Holland America's Nieuw Amsterdam.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Making Memories Through Travel - A Different Spin
Making memories with family, as you know, is the premier reason Jeff and I run Legacy Family Travel. The past few weeks I have been making memories with my Daddy. After working 46 years at the Delta Jetbase in Atlanta, he sustained extensive damage to his lungs in the form of pulmonary fibrosis. Granted, none of us knows how many days we have to walk this earth, but for Daddy, this incurable disease may result in a lot less days with us than we would like.
I have been traveling back and forth to Atlanta (with and without our girls) to spend time with Daddy. Every minute I get to spend with him goes in the memory bank that holds my most cherished treasures. I have so many wonderful memories of my relationship with him. And yes, so many of them revolve around travel.
I remember once we rented a car at the Los Angeles airport. It was right when new cars started coming equipped with that little button next to the ignition that you had to push in order to remove the key. It took Daddy the longest time to get the key out, meaning it took the longest time to get the trunk open to load the luggage. Then we went to the wrong hotel. We had reservations at the University Hilton, but we went to the Universal Hilton. (I think he and I both have the gift of confusion.) Cindy (my sister) and I knew when to be quiet in the backseat, and this was without question one of those times. Daddy was frustrated - he didn't really want to hear "I'm hungry, I have to go to the bathroom, When are we going to get there?". I still think about this day everytime I rent a car!
In Victoria, B.C., we spent the day at Butchart Gardens. The flowers were so beautiful. I couldn't understand why Cindy didn't seem to be enjoying the gardens as much as Daddy and me. When we got to the hotel, the explanation came out all over the parking lot - in hind sight it is clear that she had been struggling with a migraine. At the time, Mama probably didn't even know what a migraine was.
Other memories include the following:
Daddy was always the tour guide. He didn't have the luxury of the internet. He would write to the Chamber of Commerce for whatever city we were to visit. Then he would pour over brochures and newspapers to plan our adventures. Often times we would land at an airport, and he would take advantage of the bank of phones in which communication with dozens of hotel front desks was available at the push of a button. And sometimes he had to make LOTS of calls to find a room for us. His philosophy: stay cheap, eat well. Consequently, there were some fascinating hotel experiences, and some equally fascinating restaurant experiences.
I looked so forward to our annual vacations. Many of our friends would spend a week at the same beach in Florida every summer. But because Daddy worked for Delta and we could fly for free, our vacations were far more exotic. We never flew over the ocean, never went to Europe or the Caribbean (mostly because Mama wasn't as much the adventurous sort like Daddy - she preferred to stay over dry land, as if a crash there would be less traumatic than a crash in the ocean!). But we saw things other kids only dreamed of or read about in books.
Seeing different parts of the United States helped mold me into the person I am today. I believe all that travel has made me a better parent. I remember Mama saying that the most fun she had on vacation was watching my sister and me. At the time I thought that was kind of a stupid remark. Now that I have my own daughters, I understand. I sure wish she was still living so that I could confess to her that there was great wisdom in what she said.
Daddy and I were kindred spirits in our traveling. We loved anything new, fast, high, risky, colorful, historical, or outrageous. I was the quintessential Daddy's girl. As I got older, things happened. I became an Army wife, moved away. Mama passed away in 1998. We went through a very difficult period adjusting to her death. My relationship with Daddy, while still strong, is more adult now. Kind of makes me sad that I grew up. But I still have my treasure trove of prize memories.
One last memory for you: In 1985, Jeff and I moved to Amberg, W. Germany. In August of 1986, Mama and Daddy flew to Frankfurt, then took the train to Nurnberg where I would meet them. I remember standing on the platform waiting for their train. When it came in, I probably looked like I was watching a high speed ping pong match, my head whipping from left to right, attempting desperately to look into each car to spot my parents. After an eternity, the train stopped. What seemed like thousands of people burst from the train. On my tippy toes, I strained to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. I didn't see that. But what I did see through the throngs of legs was a familiar light blue suitcase being swung back and forth. I followed the suitcase handle to the hand that was holding it, up the arm, to the shoulder, and finally to the face of my Daddy, beaming. I took off running and hurled myself into his arms. I don't know if I had ever been so excited to see him. Even today, that old light blue suitcase still lives at my house. It represents a time when travel created one of my best memories ever.
As always, I urge you to take time to make memories with the folks you love. Especially during this holiday season, say the things you need to say, take lots of pictures, be purposeful about creating memories that will last a lifetime. Memories don't necessarily have to include a cruise, an airplane trip or an amusement park. Just love and let yourself be loved.
As for me, I have another trip to see Daddy in a couple of weeks. I'm going armed with purpose; to cherish the time with him and MAKE MORE MEMORIES!
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| Cindy, Daddy, Me; October 2010 - Thank you Suzy Hanzlik Photography! |
Making memories with family, as you know, is the premier reason Jeff and I run Legacy Family Travel. The past few weeks I have been making memories with my Daddy. After working 46 years at the Delta Jetbase in Atlanta, he sustained extensive damage to his lungs in the form of pulmonary fibrosis. Granted, none of us knows how many days we have to walk this earth, but for Daddy, this incurable disease may result in a lot less days with us than we would like.
I have been traveling back and forth to Atlanta (with and without our girls) to spend time with Daddy. Every minute I get to spend with him goes in the memory bank that holds my most cherished treasures. I have so many wonderful memories of my relationship with him. And yes, so many of them revolve around travel.
I remember once we rented a car at the Los Angeles airport. It was right when new cars started coming equipped with that little button next to the ignition that you had to push in order to remove the key. It took Daddy the longest time to get the key out, meaning it took the longest time to get the trunk open to load the luggage. Then we went to the wrong hotel. We had reservations at the University Hilton, but we went to the Universal Hilton. (I think he and I both have the gift of confusion.) Cindy (my sister) and I knew when to be quiet in the backseat, and this was without question one of those times. Daddy was frustrated - he didn't really want to hear "I'm hungry, I have to go to the bathroom, When are we going to get there?". I still think about this day everytime I rent a car!
In Victoria, B.C., we spent the day at Butchart Gardens. The flowers were so beautiful. I couldn't understand why Cindy didn't seem to be enjoying the gardens as much as Daddy and me. When we got to the hotel, the explanation came out all over the parking lot - in hind sight it is clear that she had been struggling with a migraine. At the time, Mama probably didn't even know what a migraine was.
Other memories include the following:
- In Boston, I remember walking onto Old Ironsides, the USS Constitution, and seeing the North Church.
- In Bremerton, WA, we stood on the USS Missouri, Big Mo, in the place where Japan surrendered to GEN Douglas McArthur.
- In New Orleans, we saw the treasures of King Tut the first time they came to the United States.
- In Washington, D.C., we visited our U.S. Senator from Georgia, toured the White House, walked through Arlington Cemetery, and saw as much of the Smithsonian as we could.
- I think the first time I had a taco was in San Diego after we spent the day at the San Diego Zoo.
- The year Walt Disney World opened, Daddy took us to Orlando. Like many of you, we were stuck in It's a Small World for what seemed like hours due to an afternoon down pour. For lunch that day we had really bad tuna fish sandwiches - the only thing available at the snack stand during the rain.
- And my first memory of any kind is watching a bird ride a bicycle across a wire at Busch Gardens in Tampa. I was about 3 years old.
Daddy was always the tour guide. He didn't have the luxury of the internet. He would write to the Chamber of Commerce for whatever city we were to visit. Then he would pour over brochures and newspapers to plan our adventures. Often times we would land at an airport, and he would take advantage of the bank of phones in which communication with dozens of hotel front desks was available at the push of a button. And sometimes he had to make LOTS of calls to find a room for us. His philosophy: stay cheap, eat well. Consequently, there were some fascinating hotel experiences, and some equally fascinating restaurant experiences.
I looked so forward to our annual vacations. Many of our friends would spend a week at the same beach in Florida every summer. But because Daddy worked for Delta and we could fly for free, our vacations were far more exotic. We never flew over the ocean, never went to Europe or the Caribbean (mostly because Mama wasn't as much the adventurous sort like Daddy - she preferred to stay over dry land, as if a crash there would be less traumatic than a crash in the ocean!). But we saw things other kids only dreamed of or read about in books.
Seeing different parts of the United States helped mold me into the person I am today. I believe all that travel has made me a better parent. I remember Mama saying that the most fun she had on vacation was watching my sister and me. At the time I thought that was kind of a stupid remark. Now that I have my own daughters, I understand. I sure wish she was still living so that I could confess to her that there was great wisdom in what she said.
Daddy and I were kindred spirits in our traveling. We loved anything new, fast, high, risky, colorful, historical, or outrageous. I was the quintessential Daddy's girl. As I got older, things happened. I became an Army wife, moved away. Mama passed away in 1998. We went through a very difficult period adjusting to her death. My relationship with Daddy, while still strong, is more adult now. Kind of makes me sad that I grew up. But I still have my treasure trove of prize memories.
One last memory for you: In 1985, Jeff and I moved to Amberg, W. Germany. In August of 1986, Mama and Daddy flew to Frankfurt, then took the train to Nurnberg where I would meet them. I remember standing on the platform waiting for their train. When it came in, I probably looked like I was watching a high speed ping pong match, my head whipping from left to right, attempting desperately to look into each car to spot my parents. After an eternity, the train stopped. What seemed like thousands of people burst from the train. On my tippy toes, I strained to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. I didn't see that. But what I did see through the throngs of legs was a familiar light blue suitcase being swung back and forth. I followed the suitcase handle to the hand that was holding it, up the arm, to the shoulder, and finally to the face of my Daddy, beaming. I took off running and hurled myself into his arms. I don't know if I had ever been so excited to see him. Even today, that old light blue suitcase still lives at my house. It represents a time when travel created one of my best memories ever.
As always, I urge you to take time to make memories with the folks you love. Especially during this holiday season, say the things you need to say, take lots of pictures, be purposeful about creating memories that will last a lifetime. Memories don't necessarily have to include a cruise, an airplane trip or an amusement park. Just love and let yourself be loved.
As for me, I have another trip to see Daddy in a couple of weeks. I'm going armed with purpose; to cherish the time with him and MAKE MORE MEMORIES!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The World's Largest Cruise Night is THIS TUESDAY!
Coming up this week, Tuesday, October 12, is The World’s Largest Cruise Night! This will be an exciting night for you to bring your family and learn all about cruising.
Our event will be held in Colorado Springs at The Solaris Center (3815 N. Academy Blvd., near the intersection of Austin Bluffs and Academy, next to Harmony Bowl). Read more about The Solaris Center below.
I realize that some of you are not in the Colorado Springs area, so for you, I have launched a website for The World’s Largest Cruise Night especially for you. I will update it frequently with extraordinary offers as I get them from the cruise lines. This site will be available until the end of October. That web address is
http://wlcn.cruising.org/legacyfamilytravel
There are several special offers that will only be available for a few days surrounding my World’s Largest Cruise Night, and these WILL be available to you even if you can’t come to my Real Life World’s Largest Cruise Night event. Please check this website daily so that you don’t miss out on the family cruise vacation you have been waiting for.
Now back to our World’s Largest Cruise Night here in Colorado Springs. During our evening together, you will be able to familiarize yourself with both Deep Water (Ocean) Cruising and River Cruising. AND by booking your next cruise with Legacy Family Travel on this night, you will save money.
• You will be able to peruse displays from my favorite family friendly cruise lines (Royal Caribbean, Holland America, and Disney), as well as a few other cruise lines that you may find appealing.
• River Cruising has become the hottest way to see Europe, Asia and South America – I will introduce you to two River Cruise Lines that are offering astounding sale prices and perks for the World’s Largest Cruise Night.
• You will be able to take advantage of limited time offers to help you realize your dream family cruise vacation. These offers will include onboard credit, reduced deposit, hundreds (in some cases thousands) of dollars off your booking, and last but absolutely not least – special group rates on select sailings.
• There will be informative cruising videos running (provided by my favorite cruise lines) on two huge television screens, refreshments for everyone, and door prizes (you must be present at the time of drawing to win). Now, these aren’t your ordinary, run-of-the-mill door prizes, rather they are restaurant gift cards, gift baskets, beautiful Disney posters for the kids – you’ll have to see it to believe it.
• And, of course, I will be available to answer any questions you have about cruising!
Legacy Family Travel is very proud to support Military Community Youth Ministries (MCYM) and amusekids! Family Worship Ministry. During our World’s Largest Cruise Night, you will have an opportunity to meet representatives of these two wonderful organizations and find out how they are positively impacting the lives of the next generation. When you allow Legacy Family Travel to help you make your family vacation dreams come true, you are contributing something valuable in at least three major ways:
- by helping the teenage children of our military cope during difficult times – not just here in Colorado Springs but all around the world. Teens of families in which one or both parents are deployed are often overlooked. They desperately need encouragement, too, and MCYM does just that.
- by giving children of all ages an opportunity to worship in their style - a service with high octane, fun music, encouraging talks with skits and hands on demonstrations, a coloring wall for the littlest ones, and people who have a heart for family worship. Amusekids! Family Worship provides all this and more!
- You will also be supporting The Solaris Center itself, which is a much needed outreach to the children and youth of Colorado Springs.
Even if you have no plans to book a cruise now or ever, may I ask you to come to our World’s Largest Cruise Night and meet the men and women who are diligently pouring into our community? You will get your socks blessed off!
Remember, Tuesday night, October 12, 6:30 – 8:30 at the Solaris Center. If you bring friends and they book a cruise with me during the month of October, I will reward you!
Thank you in advance for allowing me to be your travel agent. I appreciate your trust and your business.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Cave Dive, Part 2
Part 2 of my friend Les Knotts' cave diving story. Just so you can picture the person this voice is coming from, here are some photos of the dive.
Without further ado - here's the man himself:
Shortly we surfaced. It was an expansive cave. An air-filled one, for one by one, following the lead of our guide, we removed our regulators and breathed what seemed to me to be remarkably fresh air, considering the circumstances. We had eight feet of headroom here, but that narrowed toward the edges of the irregularly-shaped room. Protruding from the surface of the cave were the thick, intertwined striations of roots from the trees above, seeking the life-giving, life-threatening waters below ground. In the near distance was a bright electrical floodlight that gave some light to what would otherwise be lit in deep silence only by our lanterns. I could see the cable running to it from the surface, and wondered how often such a thing would have to be replaced, given the constant wetness of the conditions. I rolled onto my back and finned gently over to check the condition of the lamp, which turned out not to be a light at all, but a brightly lit hole to surface. That was our wonderful above-ground sun punching a serpentine aperture through to this depth, right through the rock. It was about 20- inches wide, and had a smattering of greenery lacing the porous sides. Mesmerizing. The cable I had seen was not cable at all, but a thick root that had come down from above, found only air, and was snaking its way back into the cave roof rock near the opening. Again I lingered, looking.
Others explored the length and breadth of the cave. It was quiet—reverently so. Sergio, our guide, admitted that he came here to float in the quiet darkness for long periods of isolated meditation. I could see that. I was ready for a nap, myself.
No nap was immediately forthcoming. After checking our air reserves, we submerged to continue the journey. Predictably, Heavy Breather was at 500 pounds, which is normally when we’d head for the surface. That’s in the red zone of the dial, and we had agreed to use a third of our air on the way in, a third on the way out, and keep a third in reserve. It wasn’t strictly that we had violated that rule, as we had opportunity to return to the surface after the big screen panorama to retrieve new tanks for the cavern portion of the dive. We chose not to, and now we were only five minutes from the opening, so there was not any real risk, as the other divers all had 1000 pounds of pressure each. Plus Sergio had a spare tank on his back with a spare regulator. I indicated my low air, and Sergio paired with me for the swim out.
In three minutes of swimming, it was clear that Sergio could not, indeed, swim this cave network with his eyes closed as he had earlier claimed. He searched calmly, then more vigorously for the familiar underwater markers he had used for ten years of diving in this, his favorite cave site. He did not see them. We were swimming the wrong way. Our guide jerked his head left and right, up and down. He was actively looking, but not finding, that which he sought. Sergio grabbed my harness to keep me close, then we reversed direction.
We emerged once again in the now-familiar cave, no closer to the exit than we were three minutes earlier. He got his bearings, and then he took us beneath the surface in the opposite direction from where we had just come. Sure enough, five minutes later, we were on the surface, glorious sunlight poking through the trees into our faces. Sergio admitted the obvious as we stripped out of our wetsuits: that he had been lost. We knew. He remarked about how calm we had all been, and we just shrugged. Panic never helped in difficult circumstances before, why start now? Later, Arnie asked me how much air I had in my tank when we emerged from the dangerous beauty of the cave. I had not even looked. Obviously, I had enough to get out.
*this tidbit was withheld from the group until we had emerged from the dive.
 |
| This is Les and his beautiful, sweet wife, Monika. Together the Knotts family ministers to teens worldwide who have been affected by their parents' military deployments. They are affiliated with Military Community Youth Ministries. If you would like to be a part of this vital ministry, please visit www.mcym.org |
Shortly we surfaced. It was an expansive cave. An air-filled one, for one by one, following the lead of our guide, we removed our regulators and breathed what seemed to me to be remarkably fresh air, considering the circumstances. We had eight feet of headroom here, but that narrowed toward the edges of the irregularly-shaped room. Protruding from the surface of the cave were the thick, intertwined striations of roots from the trees above, seeking the life-giving, life-threatening waters below ground. In the near distance was a bright electrical floodlight that gave some light to what would otherwise be lit in deep silence only by our lanterns. I could see the cable running to it from the surface, and wondered how often such a thing would have to be replaced, given the constant wetness of the conditions. I rolled onto my back and finned gently over to check the condition of the lamp, which turned out not to be a light at all, but a brightly lit hole to surface. That was our wonderful above-ground sun punching a serpentine aperture through to this depth, right through the rock. It was about 20- inches wide, and had a smattering of greenery lacing the porous sides. Mesmerizing. The cable I had seen was not cable at all, but a thick root that had come down from above, found only air, and was snaking its way back into the cave roof rock near the opening. Again I lingered, looking.
Others explored the length and breadth of the cave. It was quiet—reverently so. Sergio, our guide, admitted that he came here to float in the quiet darkness for long periods of isolated meditation. I could see that. I was ready for a nap, myself.
No nap was immediately forthcoming. After checking our air reserves, we submerged to continue the journey. Predictably, Heavy Breather was at 500 pounds, which is normally when we’d head for the surface. That’s in the red zone of the dial, and we had agreed to use a third of our air on the way in, a third on the way out, and keep a third in reserve. It wasn’t strictly that we had violated that rule, as we had opportunity to return to the surface after the big screen panorama to retrieve new tanks for the cavern portion of the dive. We chose not to, and now we were only five minutes from the opening, so there was not any real risk, as the other divers all had 1000 pounds of pressure each. Plus Sergio had a spare tank on his back with a spare regulator. I indicated my low air, and Sergio paired with me for the swim out.
In three minutes of swimming, it was clear that Sergio could not, indeed, swim this cave network with his eyes closed as he had earlier claimed. He searched calmly, then more vigorously for the familiar underwater markers he had used for ten years of diving in this, his favorite cave site. He did not see them. We were swimming the wrong way. Our guide jerked his head left and right, up and down. He was actively looking, but not finding, that which he sought. Sergio grabbed my harness to keep me close, then we reversed direction.
We emerged once again in the now-familiar cave, no closer to the exit than we were three minutes earlier. He got his bearings, and then he took us beneath the surface in the opposite direction from where we had just come. Sure enough, five minutes later, we were on the surface, glorious sunlight poking through the trees into our faces. Sergio admitted the obvious as we stripped out of our wetsuits: that he had been lost. We knew. He remarked about how calm we had all been, and we just shrugged. Panic never helped in difficult circumstances before, why start now? Later, Arnie asked me how much air I had in my tank when we emerged from the dangerous beauty of the cave. I had not even looked. Obviously, I had enough to get out.
*this tidbit was withheld from the group until we had emerged from the dive.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Cave Dive
Today I am posting something written by a friend. Les and Monika Knotts have been friends of ours for about 20 years. We (meaning my husband was the active duty one, I was the proud Army wife) served in the military together and were stationed together three times. Les is an adventure junkie, Monika, more subdued. I thought nothing ever rattled Les. But after reading this, I realized that I just had not been in the right place at the right time to see this side of him.
By way of commercial for Les and Monika, they serve with the Military Community Youth Ministry, an organization dedicated to serving the sometimes forgotten population of our military - the teenaged children of deployed service members. Club Beyond, their primary vehicle for this ministry, has saved many a teen from a life of lonliness, fear and despair. If you would like more information on MCYM or know of a military family who can use this type of help, please go to their website, http://www.mcym.org/.
So back to the post - Les went to Cozumel with some friends and did some scuba diving. Here is his description of the dive. And Thanks, Les, for letting me share this!
Cave Dive
As advertised, the water at the entry was especially clear and placid, save for two inexperienced (cocky?) divers floating on the surface after their dive. I say inexperienced because, as our dive leader noted, the male left his gear floating on the surface and dove down into the cave without his breathing apparatus. That’s zero-defect diving. After all, 320 divers have expired in Mexican caves—and most of them were experienced dive leaders*. That was, of course, what the submerged sign of the skull and crossbones was about at the cave exit at the far end.
Stalagmites and stalactites threatened to chomp any diver who had not assumed neutral buoyancy. Our dive lead had donned not one or two, but three layers for this dive, plus an additional tank for back-up air. And a hood. I had none of these additional accoutrements, and I was working my legs the entire dive in an attempt to remain horizontal (as the rest of the group appeared to be doing easily), to stay below the stalactites, and because violent and continuous kicking is the routine that I am accustomed to when I am below the surface of the water during a lifetime of seeking the life-giving air up there in the direction of my last bubbles. “Heavy Breather” is what I have been dubbed on this trip. He-Who-Kicks-Forever is my Indian name. I have been a sinker for much of my life, and I quickly revert to old habits of survival even when the means of survival are strapped to my back—a tank and BC.
And so we dive. 3000 pounds of air seems enough for the 45 minutes we plan to be looking at fossils and Karst formations. We switch on our lamps and explore side to side as we follow the guide. Our easy movement near the surface is to get us comfortable with the potentially claustrophobic conditions soon to greet us. Monika would surely hate this: Dark. Closed in. Under water. Any of us can call off the dive with a simple signal at any point. I know that I am the most likely to do so. And Monika? For her part, she has elected to call it off from the remote safety of Colorado, a thousand miles north and 6000 feet higher and drier than where we are at this cenote.
We make a slow clockwise loop beneath the surface. Rounding the stony and irregular subsurface column gave us the sense that we were going to need our lanterns for the remainder of the dive. Not so. If a man took the time to stop fussing with gauges, his perpetually flooding mask, and the constant struggle to maintain neutral buoyancy, a dramatic vista in hues of aquamarine presented itself on the left flank. An absolute cathedral of angular rays penetrated the green water after plunging through the thin canopy of deciduous greenery covering the opening like a gigantic translucent umbrella. The scene was brighter at the top, and shifting to darker, but no less luxurious, tones in layers of shifting greenish hues as the eyes were cast deeper—a visual parfait. If this had been my big screen television, I would not have changed the channel for a long time. I nearly lost the group lingering over the playing of the lights—an underwater aurora borealis, moving with gentle air currents above and the mild aquatic current below. We were moved with it.
I rejoined the group. We propelled ourselves slowly through wider and now narrower and next wider formations. Prehistoric fossils were embedded in the rock, and the guide was careful to point them out as we glided past. For the more adventurous, gaps of varying widths to left and to right beckoned for closer inspection. They explored with head, hands, and lights, hoping to see—what? To the less adventurous, the caverns appeared as gaping, open maws of death with thousands of still-forming stony teeth above and below that would grab your vest and rake at your breathing apparatus, robbing you at once of breath and means of escape. . . .
Part 2 to follow!
By way of commercial for Les and Monika, they serve with the Military Community Youth Ministry, an organization dedicated to serving the sometimes forgotten population of our military - the teenaged children of deployed service members. Club Beyond, their primary vehicle for this ministry, has saved many a teen from a life of lonliness, fear and despair. If you would like more information on MCYM or know of a military family who can use this type of help, please go to their website, http://www.mcym.org/.
So back to the post - Les went to Cozumel with some friends and did some scuba diving. Here is his description of the dive. And Thanks, Les, for letting me share this!
Cave Dive
As advertised, the water at the entry was especially clear and placid, save for two inexperienced (cocky?) divers floating on the surface after their dive. I say inexperienced because, as our dive leader noted, the male left his gear floating on the surface and dove down into the cave without his breathing apparatus. That’s zero-defect diving. After all, 320 divers have expired in Mexican caves—and most of them were experienced dive leaders*. That was, of course, what the submerged sign of the skull and crossbones was about at the cave exit at the far end.
Stalagmites and stalactites threatened to chomp any diver who had not assumed neutral buoyancy. Our dive lead had donned not one or two, but three layers for this dive, plus an additional tank for back-up air. And a hood. I had none of these additional accoutrements, and I was working my legs the entire dive in an attempt to remain horizontal (as the rest of the group appeared to be doing easily), to stay below the stalactites, and because violent and continuous kicking is the routine that I am accustomed to when I am below the surface of the water during a lifetime of seeking the life-giving air up there in the direction of my last bubbles. “Heavy Breather” is what I have been dubbed on this trip. He-Who-Kicks-Forever is my Indian name. I have been a sinker for much of my life, and I quickly revert to old habits of survival even when the means of survival are strapped to my back—a tank and BC.
And so we dive. 3000 pounds of air seems enough for the 45 minutes we plan to be looking at fossils and Karst formations. We switch on our lamps and explore side to side as we follow the guide. Our easy movement near the surface is to get us comfortable with the potentially claustrophobic conditions soon to greet us. Monika would surely hate this: Dark. Closed in. Under water. Any of us can call off the dive with a simple signal at any point. I know that I am the most likely to do so. And Monika? For her part, she has elected to call it off from the remote safety of Colorado, a thousand miles north and 6000 feet higher and drier than where we are at this cenote.
We make a slow clockwise loop beneath the surface. Rounding the stony and irregular subsurface column gave us the sense that we were going to need our lanterns for the remainder of the dive. Not so. If a man took the time to stop fussing with gauges, his perpetually flooding mask, and the constant struggle to maintain neutral buoyancy, a dramatic vista in hues of aquamarine presented itself on the left flank. An absolute cathedral of angular rays penetrated the green water after plunging through the thin canopy of deciduous greenery covering the opening like a gigantic translucent umbrella. The scene was brighter at the top, and shifting to darker, but no less luxurious, tones in layers of shifting greenish hues as the eyes were cast deeper—a visual parfait. If this had been my big screen television, I would not have changed the channel for a long time. I nearly lost the group lingering over the playing of the lights—an underwater aurora borealis, moving with gentle air currents above and the mild aquatic current below. We were moved with it.
I rejoined the group. We propelled ourselves slowly through wider and now narrower and next wider formations. Prehistoric fossils were embedded in the rock, and the guide was careful to point them out as we glided past. For the more adventurous, gaps of varying widths to left and to right beckoned for closer inspection. They explored with head, hands, and lights, hoping to see—what? To the less adventurous, the caverns appeared as gaping, open maws of death with thousands of still-forming stony teeth above and below that would grab your vest and rake at your breathing apparatus, robbing you at once of breath and means of escape. . . .
Part 2 to follow!
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