Rocky route to heaven

On the map, the Rockies seem like a stole gracefully draped over the American West. Up close, the elegance is but a facade. They're rugged as they come, mysterious as hell, and utterly memorable. From northern BC in Canada all the way to New Mexico, the 3000 mile long stretch is possibly the most scenic part of the continent.

The region is huge, the terrain beautiful and pristine. The miles count in millions, the fir, spruce and aspen are numerous. Lakes, gleam like jewels and are ice cold year round. Wildflowers abound in spring and early summer and the bounty of nature is seemingly endless.

The Yellowstone Way

Our travel through the Rockies was mostly into the National Parks in the Region. The Yellowstone Park lies at the heart of the Rockies. Literally too. Located mostly in Wyoming, it's the oldest, arguably the grandest in offerings. A road network spanning the Park in a 150 mile circle made exploring a breeze. But here, ease doesn't equate speed. En route there are a gazillion photo-ops, thermal wonders, wildlife sightings and general preponderance of 'oh wow!' moments.

And lest you believe you're in paradise, the major attractions are just so named to set you straight. The Yellowstone river runs the eastern length of the Park, running through the Yellowstone Canyon, descending at the upper and lower Yellowstone Falls . Southside, lies the sparkling Yellowstone Lake against a backdrop of mountains. Every one gets the picture. Eventually.



The Park's wildlife viewing opportunities are plentiful. We managed to spot the big 5 - the Grizzly, Black bear, Moose, Caribou and a Wolf with cubs. Readily visible are deer, Elk and the Bison. The Bald Eagle for the sharp eyed. All of this traveling the Park road. But Yellowstone is so much more than a motorist's interlude. Since fishing or hunting is not our thing, we hiked through the marked trails in the mountains, working our way to the more difficult ones. Better still, saw the diehards explore the remote backcountry and camp in the wilderness.


























Now, for the best part. The high point of a Yellowstone visit are surely the Geysers - hot springs that erupt every now and then spewing columns of hot water and steam, all thanks to the volcanic activity under the surface. Given that two thirds of earth's geysers are found here, that alone is reason enough to visit. Supervolcanic activity has also created impossibly colorful springs, bubbling mud ponds called Fountain Paint Pots and sulphur rich pools that shimmer in beautiful tones of blue and green. A geologist's holy grail or a visitor wonder - they're unforgettable all the way.

Grand Tetons

Just south of Yellowstone lies the Grand Tetons National Park. Aptly named by the French voyageurs for the mountain range's sharply jutting peaks that seem to rise out of nowhere. In the foreground, lie the Snake River, scenic lakes and alpine flora. Not surprisingly, the Grand Tetons are often called the most photogenic mountains in the Americas. On a wonderfully clear summer afternoon, we drove up to a viewing point that lay across the valley. The snow covered peaks gleamed, while the Indian Paintbrush flowers bloomed in every color possible and then some, in a silence broken only by clicking shutters. Humbly, we wondered if we'd somehow stumbled into a postcard.

Just outside the Park, lies Jackson Hole, a pretty town that's a skiers mecca, especially for the moneyed kind. The stretch of highway heading south, through Wyoming into eastern Idaho has some hair-raising mountain curves matched by incredible scenery.

North of the border we also visited Alberta's Banff and Jasper National Parks. But that's a story that needs a home of its own.

Maybe, a picture is worth a thousand words. But when the sights are so many, where would I possibly find enough words to describe them. You've got to see for yourself

Carolina Calling!

To be honest, South Carolina had not figured very high on my must travel list. But I'm so glad I had the chance to visit one summer many years ago.



For sure, it is the quintessential South - soul food, rich music and its own sedate pace. The drawl is sweet and the air is unhurried. My first surprise came at the airport while waiting at the open air car rental place in the merciless July sun cursing the slow service. Every slow minute of action seemed to be cutting into my vacation time. But once I ceased my foot tapping I realized that my holiday had begun right then. A New York minute might not be the speed here, but I was seeing something a lot more rare - the easy charm and simple courtesy of the folks. Instead of hustling me on, the rental clerk held the car door for me and chatted away like I was a favorite cousin. Right then, I had my first inkling. It might be the same country, but was this quite possibly a different world.



It was indeed. Over the next few days spent at the low country islands I truly did lie back. The beaches were pristine. Islands both touristy and quiet. The sea air overlaid by the smell of the marsh, with the aromas wafting from beachside oyster roasts. Sultry summer days that invite, almost compel long, lazy siestas. The golf courses are superb. The coastal salt marshes are many, weaving endlessly through the landscape. I loved their desolate beauty during an afternoon spent kayaking the waterways while the gators slumbered on in the quiet waters.



The last leg of my trip was in Charleston. As cities go, it isn't the urban Atlanta or flavorful New Orleans but worth a stop nevertheless. Ocean views overlooking Fort Sumter, numerous churches, Palmetto lined streets breezy even on the warmest day. Charleston is a gracious, old city; worth seeing is its Rainbow Row - a series of pastel colored period homes with strong west african influences. Away from the city, I also visited the old plantations along the Ashley river. At the heart of each lie vast mansions reminiscient of the grand South, surrounded by magnolia and myrtle filled gardens. Spanish moss drapes the live oaks looking, at once elegant and eerie.



Marshes, rivers and woodlands. Coastal low lands that lie in the eye of potential storms. Threatened sometimes by nature, the land battles the swamp but it endures, as do its people. And nobody echoes its spirit better than Henry Timrod.



Throw thy bold banner to the breeze!

Front with thy ranks the threatening seas

Like thine own proud armorial trees,

Carolina! Carolina!