Backwards, to Victory! (Exploring the Schuylkill River Rowing Scene)

Backwards, to Victory! (Exploring the Schuylkill River Rowing Scene)

“Where are my eyes?” Vince calls out to our quad scull.

It’s 7:00am on a chilly, gray, Sunday morning in early November. The Schuylkill River is calm. I am not. Neither is Vince, the other first-timer in the boat. He twists in his seat as veteran rowers Bill and Gary steer us clear of the docks at Boathouse Row. Like Vince, the awkwardness of blindly moving backwards is hitting me, but I don’t have to ask where to look.

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Mr. Saturday Night - My First Day As An Assistant Cruise Director

The follow is an excerpt from my memoir, Will My Cane Float? (Voyages into Adulthood and the Adventurous Retirees Who Showed Me the Way). 

...From the bow of the Yorktown Clipper, I looked out on Juneau and watched as bald eagles soared high above the Sitka spruce and hemlocks.

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A Lesson from the Worst Drummer in Belize

A Lesson from the Worst Drummer in Belize

The following is an excerpt from my soon-to-be finished story about my year as a small ship cruise director traveling with and learning from my retired passengers.  

...The idea of “so what” appeared again the following week in Belize, as Mr. Gallagher danced with his wife to the sounds of a Garifuna band on deck. Every beat of the Garifuna drum tells the story

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Travel is Medicine. Literally.

Travel is Medicine. Literally.

After reading my 6 Ways to Find Happiness on the Horizon download, a friend from way back contacted me about her experience with the power of travel.  She practices as a physician assistant in orthopedic surgery in Oregon and her story fascinated me.  

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The Call of Haida Gwaii

The Call of Haida Gwaii

I have read two books more than once—Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne and a double feature of The Call of the Wild and White Fang by Jack London. Both take me to incredible places.  Both make me dream.  For this, my sixth trip to Haida Gwaii, an archipelago some 30 miles west of British Columbia, I packed the Jack London.  It seemed fitting for the long flights across Canada.

What started four years ago as no more than map dots and curiosity has turned into a personal and professional journey.  It’s taken me into the woods where black bears roam,

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