From time to time I embark on an adventure - mostly into areas that push me out of my comfort zone. Considering my comfort zone is comprised of sitting in my kitchen at the computer with a cat on my lap, it's not far to go beyond it. Living these moments is awesome.
I thank the editors who make it possible, my long-suffering Webgod Jeff at SlypigPro who makes it into a show-and-tell for you guys, and my family for pretending they miss me when I'm away.
As of January 2009, Lorraine will be taking fabulous pictures courtesy of some help from Olympus Cameras and Lenses
getolympus.ca
Follow the Lighthouse Trail...spent a glorious week in Nova Scotia trekking around in a brand spanky new RV. From deep sea fishing to tidal bore rafting, from turtle hunting in the depths of a national forest, to hauling cod and lobster from the ocean and eating the best seafood in the world. The people of Nova Scotia are outstanding, and their province will take your breath away.
'Palma de Mallorca, Spain', said the invite. I looked out my frosty window, looked a map of the Mediterranean coast of Spain, packed a carry-on and thanked my editor for finally sending me somewhere that the only ice was in the drinks.
Drive a Smart Car to the Arctic Circle in January. Crazy as it sounds? Nope. Crazier. I drove the first leg, from Kelowna B.C. to Whitehorse, in the Yukon. I last left the Yukon in an RV. This outstanding journey was a once in a lifetime opportunity; this tiny Smart Car was a revelation.
Told you I'd seize the chance to GO RVing again...and when GO RVing Canada called, I was in.
I flew to Whitehorse, Yukon and met up with my good, brave friend Melissa Weber. We followed a route through the Yukon and Alaska, sampling the most amazing things this part of the country has to offer. And she really was brave: I called her with only two weeks notice, and told her the only information I had: "Yukon. RV. July 26. One Week." Her response? "Yes."
Related Links: GO RVing Canada, Yukon Tourism
Isn't that on everyone's Bucket List? Well, it wasn't on mine, but I highly recommend it. Many thanks to Scott Rupert and the Southern Ontario Association of Racing for making it happen.
Spend the day at Mosport, testing every Porsche. Extraordinary. Hop back in your minivan to drive home. Oh, well....
"How would you like to go to San Francisco to drive the new Rolls-Royce Phantom?"
"Yes, please."
"Would you, uhm, like to check your calendar first?"
"No."
Sometimes it's that easy.
Your kids will get to a certain age where they're just too old to haul along on holiday with you. My kids are already too old, but we didn't let that stop us. Ten days, 4500 kilometres, from Burlington to the tip of Cape Breton Island. What a country we live in.
Related Links: GO RVing Canada
The best thing to do with a 16-year-old boy with a total of an hour of driving under his belt? Get him into skid school, of course. Before Christopher even got to Driver's Ed, I figured Ian Law and his crew of professional racing drivers could teach him great techniques before he adopted all of my bad ones. I'm not sure who learned more - me or the kid.
As a writer, you see all your words as a constant visual in your head. When Brad Smith began the process of having his novel, All Hat, being made into a film, I got to tag along to be part of the process. Getting to be an extra in a movie from a book I love? Never better.
If Volvo offers to whisk you to Sweden and Norway to test two of their new cars, you grab your passport and run. Three plane rides later (I sense a theme here), I was north of the Arctic Circle watching the sun struggle to stay out for 7 hours a day, flying down narrow roads on studded tires with fjords to one side and herds of reindeer to the other.
I wasn't sure what a junket was, until my Wheels editor at the Toronto Star decided I should find out. Three plane rides later, I found myself in the middle of nowhere, with a parade of very cool Land Rover Discoverys all lined up and waiting. Northwest Argentina, with more donkeys and alpacas than people, and me driving a Discovery 16,000 feet up a mountain.
This started as a goof. The letter I fired off to Craig Davidson was pretty typical of me: Do first, think later. I had no intention of ever, ever boxing anyone. Anytime, anywhere. Ever. Then when it came down to putting my money where my mouth was, I had no choice.