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Sprucing Things Up with Spruce Tips

Like the sailors back in the olden days, we must always remain vigilant in our concern for the dreaded disease scurvy, brought on by a lack of vitamin C. Sure, we could just stop in at a grocery store and buy a couple of oranges, but what fun is that?
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Since we sent our three offspring out into the big wide world and began traveling almost all of the time, we have had to accept a few unique new concerns. Not the least among these being the perilous threat of scurvy.

Like the sailors back in the olden days, we must always remain vigilant in our concern for this dreaded disease brought on by a lack of vitamin C.

Sure, we could just stop in at a grocery store and buy a couple of oranges, but what fun is that? Much better to seek out the old school remedies that those intrepid voyagers used to use.

That is how we stumbled upon the useful possibilities of spruce tips.

While wandering the wilds of Alaska (on a luxury cruise ship with about 5,000 other folks) we discovered that centuries ago people figured out that the fresh little tips of new growth on spruce trees each spring are chocked full of vitamin C.

They also happen to taste quite good, with a hint of citrus to go along with their evergreen flavor.

Think Pine-sol with a squeeze of lime.

No, wait, not Pine-sol, that’s too harsh. Maybe more like one of those pine tree shaped air fresheners that’s still hanging from the rear view mirror of a ’74 Chrysler somewhere.

No, that sounds pretty bad too. It’s like that, except it’s good.

So the story goes that European explorers learned from the North American natives that these tips could save them from scurvy, and being innovative adventurers they decided to try using the spruce buds in brewing beer.

That caught our attention, so we set out to find a pint or two of the evergreen brew.

Our first stop was a success; the Skagway Brewing Company in the gold rush town of Skagway. They make a fine example right on sight. It is fresh and light and the hint of spruce is in no way overpowering.

We were also intrigued to find that we happened to arrive in this part of Alaska right in the heart of the tip harvesting season. Flyers posted around the bar offered five dollars a pound for anyone willing to go out and gather the buds.

A tempting proposal, but we really only had time to try a tankard of the scurvy busting grog and be on our way.

The next day, in Juneau, we discovered that the tips have several uses beyond beer. While walking downtown we first encountered a bakery that was proudly displaying spruce tips shortbread cookies. Of course we had to try one.

Not too sweet and not too spruced up, these little goodies were quite nice. Too bad we gobbled them up before we walked up the way a bit and found an ice cream vendor.  Wouldn’t you know it, he had spruce tip ice cream.

What a scoop! The creamy confection was also somewhat subtle and equally yummy.

After exploring the town we decided to take a ride up Mount Roberts on the tram and sure enough, the tips were quite prevalent up on top of the mountain.  Up here we learned that the preferred type of tree is the Sitka spruce.

First, while we hiked some of the many trails up there, we found the new growth gracing the ends of almost every bough on the trees. Out of curiosity, and just because it is what we do, we picked a couple buds and popped them into our mouths.

They really are quite good, even if a little strong, with a very tangy, citrus flavor and a large dose of evergreen essence. At this point we also realized that five dollars a pound might not be all that lucrative. They are pretty light so it would take quite a few to make a pound.

On our way back down we stopped off at the little pub by the top of the tram and found one last taste o’ the tips, Baranof Island Brewing Sitka Spruce Tip Ale. While this is slightly more widely available than the brew in Skagway, it is still only in this area and only around for a few weeks around tips harvest time.

It was definitely stronger on the spruce flavor than its Skagway cousin, and we deemed it the runner up in our scurvy fighting brew samples. With more time I imagine we could have found others to try, or for the do it yourselfer, there is the option of home brew.

On the internet almost anything is available, so we found a spruce tip beer recipe from 1796 that any adventurous spirit can brew up at home.

Take four ounces of hops, let them boil half an hour in one gallon of water, strain the hop water then add sixteen gallons of warm water, two gallons of molasses, eight ounces of essence of spruce, dissolved in one quart of water, put it in a clean cask, then shake it well together, add half a pint of emptins, then let it stand and work one week, if very warm weather less time will do, when it is drawn off to bottle, add one spoonful of molasses to every bottle.

It sounds good to us, , although I doubt that we will be brewing it any time soon. Could be because we don’t have any idea of what emptins are, or just that we happen to be fresh out of spruce tips.

Google solved our emptins issue; they are the yeast left from brewing.

On the other hand, our lack of tips might be a great excuse to head back up to Alaska.

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

See all of our previous adventures in Alaska!

Do You Know Juneau?

Juneau, Alaska is the only state capital that has no highway connection to anywhere within the state, or any place else for that matter. Odd for sure, yet the very reason it is so isolated also makes it perhaps the most scenic and interesting of our state government centers…
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This time we came by boat. In the past we have flown in, but did Juneau that it is not possible to drive to this state capital?

Yes, Juneau, Alaska is the only state capital that has no highway connection to anywhere within the state, or any place else for that matter.

Odd for sure, yet the very reason it is so isolated also makes it perhaps the most scenic and interesting of our state government centers. There are certainly no others where we could visit a glacier, ride to the top of a mountain, and watch spawning salmon all in one day.

We began by jumping on the Mount Roberts Tramway, partly because it was right by the dock where we came in, but also because we wanted to take advantage of the sunshine. Clear days are a bit of a rarity around here so we didn’t want to take any chances of encountering afternoon showers.

The tram carries up to sixty people eighteen hundred feet up Mount Roberts in about six minutes, with views that are nothing short of spectacular. Thanks to the fantastic weather we could see miles and miles of the Gastineau Channel in both directions.

We also had a bird’s eye view of the city, the ships, and even the airport several miles off in the distance. Once we arrived at the top we took advantage of the trails to climb even higher, which provided a perfect panorama of the surrounding mountains.

It’s no wonder that the tramway is one of Juneau’s most popular attractions, and when we made it back down to sea level we hoped on a bus to another one.

Mendenhall Glacier isn’t really in the city, it’s about 12 miles away, and because it is receding that number keeps growing. As with many of Alaska’s glaciers, warmer temperatures are melting it faster than the snow can replenish the ice.

We didn’t make it all the way to the ice field, instead opting for a view from the overlook on the Glacier Highway. This was the quick way since we only had one day and there was plenty more to see and do. Still, the sight of this massive ice flow with the mountains as a backdrop and a meadow of blazing fireweed in the foreground will remain permanently etched in our memories.

From there we had one more stop to make before wandering around downtown, the Macaulay Salmon Hatchery.  While we have seen salmon running before, we can safely say we have never seen anything quite like this!

We get it, people sometimes exaggerate and throw around the word millions just to signify a lot, but after some quick calculations we realized that we truly were looking at about a million fish. Most of these were babies, fry as they’re called, living in four giant tanks well above the fray that was going on outside.

These tanks serve as home until the little guys are ready for release and years of adventure in the open sea before finally returning here. That returning was going on outside and it was quite a spectacle.

Thousands of salmon were fighting their way up a series of stair-stepped tanks that are made to simulate their natural instinct to swim upstream to spawn. One odd thing to us was the fact that they never get more than a few feet away from the ocean.

The entire process of struggling up miles of swift water has been recreated in an area about the size of a football field. Moving through it is designed to be so difficult that it takes weeks to accomplish, just like if they were in the wild.

One big difference is that when they finally make it, they do not get to lay eggs, they are “zipped” open and the eggs are fertilized in buckets. Once they hatch then it is into the tanks that we mentioned before.

This greatly reduces the fish lost to predators and other dangers, making the hatchery much more efficient than Mother Nature.

Heading downtown, we figured we should check out the capitol building but found a few surprises along the way. Turns out Juneau has a bunch of bronze on display. By that we mean statues, lots of statues.

We found a humpback whale breaching near the hatchery, a couple of hard-rock miners digging along the waterfront, a huge bear right in the center of town, and an interesting pooch near the docks.

The bear, known as Windfall Fisherman, and the whale, called Tahku, are both by the renowned sculptor R.T. Wallen, along with several other works around town that we didn’t have time to see.

The miners are a tribute by Ed Way to the men who extracted the areas vast mineral riches, and the dog… well she has a story to tell too.

Her name was Patsy Ann and beginning in 1929 she faithfully served as “The Official Greeter of Juneau, Alaska.” Even though she was stone deaf, she somehow knew when a ship was coming in and would scurry down to the dock to say hello.

Sailors from far and wide learned of her welcomes and would reward her with treats, and so the cycle continued until 1942 when she finally said goodbye. Fifty years later artist Anna Burke Harris unveiled a life-size statue of the bull terrier on the spot where Patsy Ann used to greet the fleet.

After a pat and a hug we made it to the capitol, which looks like just about any other office building, but we found one more statue. This one very well could be the most important, because without William Henry Seward there would likely not be any state of Alaska. It would still be part of Russia.

Back in 1867, when he successfully pulled off buying Alaska, many called it Seward’s folly. He proved prophetic though, and the purchase turned out to be a bargain beyond even his wildest dreams. So to commemorate the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the acquisition the state erected this monument.

The visionary Secretary of State stands proudly holding the deed to his “folly” in his right hand, almost as if he’s saying “take that” to all who doubted.

One thing is for sure, we have no doubt that we are glad he made the deal.

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

See our social media from this incredible cruise here.

See all of our previous adventures in Alaska!

Solemnly Cycling Along Omaha Beach

There might be no better way to experience Omaha Beach in Normandy than to glide silently along the several miles of this unparalleled piece of history on two wheels….
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We are fully convinced that bicycles are the best way to see most places up close while traveling. We can cover many times more ground than on foot, and those feet don’t hurt at the end of the day.

However, if we needed some reinforcement for that point of view, there might be none better than the day we spent riding along Omaha Beach in Normandy. For us there is simply no better way to have experienced this unparalleled piece of history than to glide silently along its several miles of waterfront on two wheels.

We began at one of the surviving German bunkers, where the Fifth Engineer Special Brigade Memorial stands overlooking the landing site of the Allied troops.

The feeling here is beyond profound. Gazing out over the English Channel, the power of that historic campaign was fully overwhelming. It was not difficult to picture the armada of ships dotting the horizon, but almost impossible to imagine the chaos and turmoil of the human onslaught while the liberators came onshore.

It took several minutes before anyone in our group was even able to speak.

When we went inside of the bunker and looked through the narrow slits designed to allow for outgoing gunfire, we could only think that the positioning of the bunkers made it hard to believe any allied forces ever made it off of the beach.

Just above the bunkers, the Monument to the First Infantry Division commemorates the six hundred and twenty seven members of the Big Red One’s that died freeing France in June of 1944.

From there we made our way back up to the top of the bluff where The Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial in France is located. Here the graves of 9,385 soldiers, almost all casualties of D-Day or soon after, spread out over one hundred and seventy acres.

If we thought that we were emotional before, this took us well beyond any feelings we had ever experienced. To gather ourselves we took a few minutes to meditate at the reflecting pool in front of the colonnade.

Along this columned walkway there are maps detailing the military operations, a bronze statue entitled Spirit of American Youth Rising from the Waves, and the Wall of the Missing. The wall, inscribed with over fifteen hundred names, serves as a solemn reminder of those who were lost in action.

Moving into the cemetery, we spent a while walking among and gazing across the seemingly endless rows of stark white markers, taking in as many of the names as we could, before finally deciding to move on for a look at the rest of the beach.

Mounting our bikes we rode off in silence. The pathway took us directly alongside the sand, with the sea on our right and bluffs dotted with overgrown pillboxes left from Germany’s Atlantic Wall looming above us on our left.

After a mile or so we spotted the sculpture Les Braves rising from the water’s edge. Dedicated in 2004 for the 60th anniversary of D-Day, the thirty foot center pillars called Rise, Freedom! stand majestically between The Wings of Fraternity and The Wings of Hope, all formed from gleaming stainless steel.

It is an awesome work of art, designed by Anilore Banon to move in and out of the water with the tide and her words describing it are much better than anything we could possibly say:

The Wings of Hope -So that the spirit which carried these men on 6th June 1944, continues to inspire us, reminding us that together it is always possible to change the future.

Rise Freedom! – So that the example of those who rose up against barbarity, helps us remain standing strong against all forms on inhumanity.

The Wings of Fraternity – So that the surge of brotherhood always reminds of our responsibility towards others as well as ourselves. On 6th June 1944, these men were more than soldiers, they were our brothers.” – Anilore Banon.

Slightly inland from Les Braves is another poignant piece of artwork. Yannec Tomada’s Ever Forward is a statue of a running soldier carrying a wounded comrade up from the water. The work conveys the human struggle of that fateful day with gripping realism.

Once again, the artist’s words serve to explain much better than we ever could:

“In commemoration of the determined effort by the soldiers of the 29th Division’s 116th Infantry Regimental Combat Team who landed the morning of June 6, 1944 on this section of Omaha Beach, known as Exit D-1, to open the Vierville Draw behind you to begin the liberation of Europe.”

This was another spot that held us for quite some time, unable to move away, but as we finally rode away from the sea it occurred to us that bicycles were a very good way to move about this countryside.

Later we learned that some of the Allied troops had used bicycles on D-Day.

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

A big thank you to Backroads Travel  for providing this adventure, as always, all opinions are our own.

Czech Out Kutná Hora!

Drawn to this part of the Czech Republic by the legend of a church filled with decorative bones, we were served up an unexpected treat when we stayed in the nearby town of Kutná Hora. Kutná Hora once rivaled Prague as the main city of Bohemia… CONTINUE READING >>

Kutná Hora, Czech Republic

Drawn to this part of the Czech Republic – like a prepubescent girl to a Justin Bieber concert – by the legend of a church filled with decorative bones, we were served up an unexpected treat when we stayed in the nearby town of Kutná Hora.

The town turned out to be much more than just a place to crash on the way to Prague.

Kutná Hora, Czech Republic

In a bygone era, Kutná Hora rivaled Prague as the main city of Bohemia, the traditional name for the western half of Czech, and several kings took up residence here.

Silver was coming out of these hills in massive quantities during the fourteenth century, perhaps the most ever found in Europe.

The town was rolling in dough and, as we know, kings like dough.

King Wenceslaus II (not the good one who look-ed down at the snow on the feast of Stephen, he was hundreds of years earlier) issued a decree snatching all of the silver for the crown.

Kutná Hora, Czech Republic

Still, the town prospered and became home to the royal mint, where many a Prague Groschen got stamped out.

Before long, Kutná Hora’s coins became the main currency for all of central Europe.

History has left Kutná Hora with some remarkable historic landmarks but we were exhausted from the day’s gruesome findings at Sedlec and our main interest was in finding some grub, grog and a night’s repose.

A real Budweiser!

But first a bit of sleuthing. A few years back we had heard a story about Anheuser-Busch filing a lawsuit against a Czech brewery concerning the use of the name Budweiser.

The American beer giant wanted them to cease and desist, Budweiser was their property.

One big snag in their case, the Budejovický Budvar has been brewing Budweiser beer in Bohemia for about eight hundred years, so… guess who gets to use the name around these parts?

We always liked this little David vs. Goliath story and wanted to give the “real” Budweiser a try, so we found a little corner pub and ordered us up a couple of Buds. We’re not gonna lie, there’s no contest, the Bohemian Bud is the superior brew.

A real Budweiser!

To say we stuck out in this joint is beyond an understatement.

Not only were we the only non-Czech speaking people, we were also the only non-tattooed and the only ones not ripped to the gills on a different sort of bud.

After what could only be described as an interesting half hour, we went in search of dumplings.

Veronica grew up on Czech food, almost all of which included dumplings, so we were on a mission to find an authentic local eatery. Perhaps with a less buzzed clientele. By wandering a few streets away from the main part of town, we found our spot.

Giant bowl of goulash

If the restaurant had a name, they weren’t bothering to advertise it on a sign – not one we could decipher anyway – but the smell and laughter drew us in.

We might have been the first non-native to ever to set foot in the place, a fantastic find.

After another Budweiser (just to be absolutely certain that we liked it better than its American counterpart) we ordered the goulash and “the special.”

We were thrilled that there was a special – we love the element of surprise and the ensuing mixed results. Before long, a giant bowl of goulash and a huge plate of roast pork and dumplings arrived. Dumplings! The table bowed a bit under the burden.

The goulash was out of this world. Meat, sausage, onions, peppers and a sauce that was pure Bohemian magic.

Pork & Dumplings!

The special was this – roast pork, bread dumplings, sweet gravy, some kind of fruit jelly-like substance and whipped cream.

Not whipped heavy cream by itself, but sugar laden whipped cream.

Once getting past that initial slightly off-putting, unexpected bite – we likened it to drinking a cola, only to realize it was root beer at the last second – we found pleasure in the mixture of salty and sweet. Added bonus – no dessert necessary.

We could have easily shared either one of these entrees, this was enough food for four people, but we were determined to eat it all.

Two hours later, we declared victory. With beers the bill only came to about $20 – unbeatable. The stroll a few blocks to our bed was about all we could take.

Palaký Square

The next morning we put off our journey to Prague for a day to check out the town.

It could have been because it was such a beautiful day, or perhaps because we were awakened by a brass band playing in Palaký Square right outside our window, or it just seemed like the thing to do, but we are glad we did.

St. Barbara's Cathedral, Kutná Hora, Czech Republic

St. Barbara’s Cathedral dominates Kutná Hora from a hill overlooking the city, so it was the obvious first stop.

The trek up took us past the Czech Museum of Silver, known as The Little Castle, and the Jesuit seminary.

Along the seminary is a walkway with a row of giant statues of thirteen saints and a spectacular view of the valley below. Because of the limited space, the path leads to the side door of the Cathedral.

St. Barbara's Cathedral, Kutná Hora, Czech Republic

St. Barbara's Cathedral, Kutná Hora, Czech Republic

A miner’s chapel had occupied the site for nearly a century.

Then in 1388 the miners had a big idea and an enormous project to build this Gothic masterpiece dedicated to St. Barbara, the patron saint of miners, began.

The work continued, on and off depending of the fortunes of the silver mines, until 1905 when it was finally deemed complete and the cathedral was consecrated.

Inside the church there are small chapels dedicated to saints and miners lining the walls, many with murals dating back to 1588 when the structure was finally enclosed.

View of the Church of St. James from St. Barbara's Cathedral

Interestingly, because the cathedral was not financed by the church, and consecrated so late in its history – grand as it was – it was not the main church for the village.

That honor went to older Church of St. James, with the classic eastern European onion shaped dome, in the center of Kutná Hora.

Plague Monument, Kutná Hora, Czech Republic

Back down in town, we made our way to the Plague Column. This monument was raised after the last epidemic of Black Death in 1713.

The fifty feet high tower was carved by František Baugut, also the sculptor of the thirteen statues of saints along the walkway leading to St. Barbara’s.

The baroque memorial begins at the base with tormented looking victims, topped by prayerful saints and crowned with a victorious Virgin Mary.

As we contemplated the anguished figures on the tower, we noticed that many of the letters in the inscriptions were highlighted in gold. On further inspection we realized that all of these correspond to Roman numerals and were curious as to the explanation.

Coded message on the Plague Monument

Turns out that the numbers add up to six thousand one hundred and forty six, the total number of victims claimed by the plague in Kutná Hora. Wow. This must be like what the guy in The Da Vinci Code feels like all the time!

Kamenný dum, known as the Stone House

Just around the corner from the column is Kamenný dum, known as the Stone House.

This Gothic dwelling from the 1400s is considered one of the better examples of a “burgher house,” or typical middle class Bohemian home.

The structure has been built onto over the years and sculptures depicting the ascent of the soul into heaven were added to its facade in the 1600s.

As with many of the important buildings here, it is now a municipal museum, depicting Czech life through the latter half of the last millennium.

Cobblestones

On our way out of town we spotted a man laying in a new sidewalk.

Stopping to watch for awhile, it was fascinating to see the craftsmanship that goes into the beautiful cobblestone paths of the village.

Working exactly like his predecessors have for centuries, he carefully chose each stone, fit it into a spot and tapped it into place with a hammer. The connection to the past and the present was striking because his method was ancient but the result will last for generations into the future.

Yes, no doubt some wanderer in the year 2525, if man is still alive, will look to his spouse, if woman can survive (whoa whoa), and say, “damn, walking on these cobblestones all day has worn my feet out!”

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

Can’t get enough of the Czech Republic? We have much more for you!

Photography Tour Offers a Creative Reset

Photography tours combine travel, learning, exploration, and connection in a way that can leave you feeling mentally clearer, physically energized, and creatively renewed… CONTINUE READING >>

When was the last time you came home from a trip feeling not just rested, but genuinely re-inspired?

For empty nesters, baby boomers, full-time travelers, and anyone who has ever looked around and thought, What’s next?, a US photography tour can be much more than another holiday. It’s part adventure, part creative challenge, part community experience – and, quite possibly, the perfect excuse to see the world with fresh eyes.

As Vanessa Rogers explains, photography tours combine travel, learning, exploration, and connection in a way that can leave you feeling mentally clearer, physically energized, and creatively renewed.

Here are three reasons to consider making a photography tour your next big adventure.

It’s a mental reset that actually lasts

Most vacations help you unwind for a while. A photography tour helps you re-engage with the world.

Instead of simply looking at the sights, you start really seeing them. You notice the way morning light hits an old stone wall. You spot patterns in a busy market. You wait for that one fleeting expression, that perfect reflection, or that dramatic sunset sky.

Photography naturally pulls you into the present moment. You’re not thinking about the inbox you left behind, the endless to-do list, or whether the kids remembered how to file their own taxes. You’re focused on light, texture, timing, and story.

This kind of creative focus can be deeply calming. When you’re adjusting your settings or waiting for the right natural light, your mind has something meaningful to do. You enter that wonderful state of flow, where time seems to disappear and the only thing that matters is what’s right in front of you.

Unlike a typical “sit by the pool and recover” vacation, a photography tour gives you something that comes home with you: a sharper eye, a fresh perspective, and a creative spark that can keep burning long after the bags are unpacked.

It gets you moving with purpose

One of the great things about photography tours is that they get you out into the world without making exercise feel like a military camp.

You may be walking through colorful city streets, wandering along rugged coastlines, exploring mountain trails, or rising early to catch sunrise over a quiet landscape. You’re active, but not because someone told you to count steps. You’re moving because there’s something worth seeing, and maybe even worth framing.

That “let’s go get the shot” motivation can turn a simple walk into an adventure.

Spending time outdoors also adds to the restorative effect. Fresh air, changing light, open spaces, and natural beauty all work together to slow things down. A misty morning, a glowing canyon, a lively local market, or the architectural details of a historic street can all invite you to pause and pay closer attention.

And yes, there can be something quietly spiritual about that. US photography workshops encourage you to slow down and connect – with the place, the people, the moment, and yourself.

Traveling with other curious, creative people can deepen that experience even more. Shared sunrises, group critiques, problem-solving in the field, and celebrating one another’s best images can create a real sense of camaraderie. For travelers who enjoy meeting kindred spirits on the road, that community can become one of the best parts of the journey.

You come home a better photographer

A photography tour is not just a trip with a camera. It’s immersive learning in real time.

Instead of watching tutorials from your couch, you’re learning in the field, surrounded by inspiring scenery and guided by experienced photographers. You can ask questions on the spot, get feedback as you shoot, and experiment with new techniques in actual travel conditions.

You may learn how to better use natural light, improve composition, capture movement, frame a stronger story, or move beyond the “I was here” snapshot into images with more depth and emotion.

Most importantly, you begin to develop your eye.

You start anticipating light. You notice small details. You think more intentionally about what belongs in the frame and what doesn’t. You learn when to move closer, when to step back, and when to simply wait.

When you return home, you don’t just have a memory card full of beautiful photos. You have new skills, more confidence, and a renewed passion for documenting the world around you.

For travelers, that’s a pretty wonderful souvenir.

A holiday that gives something back

A photography tour offers more than time away. It can be an investment in creativity, wellbeing, and personal growth.

You step out of your routine, immerse yourself in meaningful experiences, move your body, quiet your mind, connect with other travelers, and return creatively recharged.

For empty nesters, retirees, long-term travelers, and anyone ready for the next chapter, this kind of trip can feel especially powerful. It’s a reminder that adventure doesn’t end when the kids leave home, the career slows down, or the house gets quiet. Sometimes, that’s exactly when the world starts opening up in a whole new way.

So if you’re looking for a holiday that restores, inspires, and gives you a new way to tell your travel stories, a photography tour may be just the thing.

Visit Travex.com to explore which region, landscape, or photography experience catches your eye first.

The Best Thing to Have Ready When the Grandkids Come to Visit (Or When You Visit Them)

The most common complaint we hear from grandparents in our bracket is that the grandkids spend the visit on their devices. A scavenger hunt is one of the few activities that competes with the phone — because it’s active, it has stakes, and it has a story…. CONTINUE READING >>

We learned this one the hard way. Three grandkids, four hours of “what are we doing now,” and a house that suddenly seemed to have nothing in it that anyone under ten wanted to touch.

The fix wasn’t expensive toys or a trip to a museum. It was a $15 PDF and a printer.

The grandparent activity problem

If you’re an empty nester who occasionally hosts grandkids — or travels to see them — you know the rhythm. First hour: hugs and “show me your room.” Second hour: whatever screen-based thing the parents have permitted. By the third, attention is gone and you’re rummaging through closets looking for the puzzles you bought in 2014.

What we’ve started doing instead: before the visit, we print a scavenger hunt.

The kids arrive. We tell them there’s a mystery in the house. They drop everything. Two hours later they’ve decoded riddles, run from room to room, climbed under furniture we forgot we owned, and ended up at a small wrapped “treasure” we hid on the back porch. The grandparents in our circle who’ve tried this all say the same thing: it’s the activity grandkids actually ask about on the next visit.

Why printable hunts work for our age group

We don’t have the patience to write clue cards from scratch anymore. We don’t have the eyesight, frankly. And we definitely don’t have the energy to invent a new theme every time the grandkids come over.

What we’ve landed on is buying ready-made printable scavenger hunts and keeping a folder of them. The folder has a pirate one, a detective one, a magic forest one, and a unicorn one — different themes for different ages and moods. When a visit is confirmed, we pick whichever fits and print it the night before. Total prep including hiding the clue cards is about half an hour.

The hunts are age-banded — you pick the right one for a 5-year-old versus a 10-year-old, and the riddles, reading level, and physical challenges are tuned to that band. We’ve never had to dumb one down on the fly.

The travel version

We’ve started bringing them on visits, too. If we’re staying at our daughter’s for a long weekend, we’ll pack a printed Pirate Treasure Hunt in our suitcase. Saturday afternoon, when the parents need a break and we’re feeling our age, we set it up in their backyard. The kids think Nana and Pop are wizards. The parents get a two-hour nap. Everyone wins.

The hunts also travel well to rental houses — beach houses, cabins, anywhere with enough rooms or yard to hide ten or so clue cards. They’re paper, so they weigh nothing, and you can run them again the next year with the next set of grandkids.

The unexpected benefit

The grandkids talk to us during the hunt. They ask us to read the clues. They explain their theories. They get excited about whatever themed plot they’re solving and they pull us into it.

This isn’t trivial. The most common complaint we hear from grandparents in our bracket is that the grandkids spend the visit on their devices. A scavenger hunt is one of the few activities that competes with the phone — because it’s active, it has stakes, and it has a story. For two solid hours, nobody’s checking Instagram.

Where to start

Start with a pirate or unicorn hunt — the themes are universal and the riddles tend to be the most accessible. Match the age band carefully. Don’t skip the setup guide; the hiding suggestions are written by people who’ve watched real kids miss real clues, and they save you a lot of grief. First time you do it, you’ll feel a little ridiculous hiding pieces of paper around your house. Second time, when the grandkids beg for another one, you won’t.

Alaskan Urban Mountaineering

Alaska is not known for its urban adventures. But what if I told you that you can hike up to aa alpine lake and never leave the official boundaries of the state’s largest city…
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Alaska is not known for its urban adventures. It is definitely an outdoors lover’s paradise. So what if I told you that a few days after our fishing adventure with our Alaskan son, he took us on a hike up to a truly pristine lake nestled in the bowl of a glacial cirque and we never left the official boundaries of the state’s largest city?

It’s true, we did that!

The fact that you can fish, climb mountains, see wildlife, and even climb up to an alpine lake without ever leaving the city limits is just one of the great things about Anchorage.

Part of the reason this is possible is the fact that the city has incorporated many miles of land surrounding the actual developed area. But that is not to discount how close some very cool stuff is to town.

A big chunk of that area is to the south of the city and includes Chugach State Park. This is also where we climbed Flattop Mountain a few years ago. In fact, one of the trails up Flattop starts right by the trail head for our trek up to Rabbit Lake, and all of this is only a little more than five miles from Anchorage.

Lucky for us, most of the people around took the left turn up to Flattop. We continued straight ahead along the four-and-a-half-mile trail up to the lake. Along the way we were warned about moose ahead by three different groups of hikers heading back.

We never saw a single moose. It was enough to make us start wondering if maybe there might be some truth to Veronica’s moose doubting phase a few years ago. But we did see a herd of Dall sheep.

As we topped a little ridge, there they were spread out before us. About twenty of the white highland dwellers that look like a cross between a bighorn Sheep and a mountain goat were standing between us and the lake.

We stayed back so as not to frighten them off, and they were definitely wary of us. We stood very still and took some photos, then after a little bit of looking at each other they headed down the valley to Rabbit Creek for a drink and some fresh grazing.

Once they moved on, we made our way to the Rabbit Lake and stood transfixed by the scene for a few moments. It is quite a sight. A gorgeous crystal-clear lake resting right at the foot of twin jagged pinnacles known as the North and South Suicide Peaks.

The lake sits about three thousand feet above sea level, which means we had climbed about thirteen hundred feet from the trailhead, and the Suicide summits rise another two thousand feet above the water.

From what we could learn, the odd and slightly disturbing name of the mountains goes back to early railroad workers. They called several of the nearby peaks Suicide, but for some reason only these twin peaks kept the name.

We also learned that Rabbit Lake is stocked with rainbow trout, but we didn’t have any way of removing any of them.

The lake looked so inviting that what we really wanted to do was jump right in. After hiking several miles our feet were burning in our shoes so we shucked our footwear and tested the water. We instantly knew we were going no further in than below the knees.

Wow! That’s cold! Seriously, our feet were numb in no time but it felt so good.

Right about the time we thought we might lose a toe or two a couple other hikers came along, so we asked them to snap a picture and quickly got out to warm up the little piggies.

As always, the hike back down was much easier and took way less time than the way up, but it did give us a chance to contemplate, while looking down the valley at the city below, just how cool it is that we could have a day like this without ever leaving a major metropolitan area.

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com