Category Archives: Travel

Haleakalā: The Mountain That Stole My Heart

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View from the summit of Haleakalā volcano on Maui showing reddish‑brown cinder cones and rugged volcanic terrain under a clear blue sky, with drifting clouds nestled among the crater slopes.”

A Trip Back in Time

I’ve been deep in my Hawaii Photo Tagging project, reliving a trip from November–December 2016 with my sister and cousin. Spending time immersed in those photos is like stepping into a time machine. It feels like yesterday… until I remember that 2016 was ten years ago. Ten! Impossible, yet here we are.

So what I’m about to share may be “outdated,” but it’s still absolutely fresh in my mind. Today, we’re talking volcanoes — specifically a mature, stately mountain, not that fiery upstart Kilauea. Those stories will have their own day.

Meeting the Giant “View from the summit of Haleakalā volcano on Maui showing rugged volcanic slopes and dark rocky terrain above a vast layer of white clouds under a deep blue sky.”

First of all, Haleakalā is majestic. This isn’t a cute little cone volcano. It’s a full‑fledged shield volcano. Officially, Haleakalā rises 10,023 feet from sea level to summit, but in truth it’s closer to 30,000 feet from its base on the ocean floor. You don’t grasp its size until you reach the summit, look out over a layer of clouds, and realize you’re standing above them.

Topographic map showing a winding mountain hiking route with labeled waypoints including Lava Tower, Barranco, Karanga, Barafu, and Uhuru Peak.”

Driving up is an adventure in itself. The road zigs, zags, and switchbacks so you’re never heading straight up. You get glimpses of the valley as the road twists, but honestly? I was driving, and those hairpin turns encourage you to keep your eyes firmly on the pavement. Add in the bicyclists — yes, the pedal kind — who pay good money to huff and puff their way to the top. I guess the exhilarating ride back down makes it worth it.

House of the Sun

Haleakalā means House of the Sun in Hawaiian, and since the 1800s it’s been a tradition to visit the summit at sunrise. I’ve never done it. Between jet lag and the 3 a.m. start time, I’ve always passed. It’s become so popular that the National Park Service now requires reservations for sunrise viewing.

“Silhouetted group of people watching a dramatic sunrise above a glowing cloud layer, with golden and orange light illuminating the sky.”

 

Dormant, Not Dead

Haleakalā isn’t about to erupt under your feet. It’s considered dormant, not extinct — meaning it could erupt again someday. The last eruption, as best anyone can tell, was between 1750 and 1790. Not long ago in geological terms, but long enough for me to feel perfectly safe wandering around.

“Rugged volcanic landscape with reddish-brown slopes and rocky formations beneath tall peaks partially covered by drifting clouds under a bright blue sky.”The Summit That Captured My Heart

The summit is home to the Haleakalā High Altitude Observatory, built there for the purity and clarity of the air. I didn’t climb up to see the observatory. I was too mesmerized by the landscape.

Haleakalā has more of a moonscape than a landscape. Plants are few and far between, and the browns, reds, and blacks paint a surreal, velvety picture. My mind knows it’s sand, dirt, and ash — but it looks soft enough to touch. I imagine a giant hand reaching out to stroke the terrain.

It’s not waves, water, surfers, or sunny brilliance. It’s moody. Dramatic. Dark. Dotted with cinder cones and caldera cliffs. I don’t know why I love it, but I do.

A Rare Treasure: The Haleakalā Silversword “Two tall flowering stalks with clusters of small blossoms rising from spiky silver-green leaves, growing among dark rocks with a stone wall and railing in the background under a clear blue sky.”

While you’re wandering around the summit, keep an eye out for the Haleakalā Silversword. These plants are found only here — nowhere else on Earth. They flower once in their lifetime, sending up a spectacular, towering bloom, and then die soon afterward, scattering their seeds to the wind. If you’re lucky, you might catch one in bloom during your visit. It’s a sight you won’t forget.

Step Into Another World

So next time you’re on Maui, skip the beach for one day. Make that twisty drive up the mountain. Stand above the clouds. Let Haleakalā wrap you in its quiet, otherworldly beauty.

It’s worth every mile.

“Rugged volcanic crater landscape with rocky terrain in the foreground and tall peaks rising above drifting clouds under a bright blue sky.”

WMEO Weekend Update – Fat Bears Are Back

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Two cats sit behind the WMEO 9 news desk like news anchors. The orange cat on the left and the black cat on the right face the camera with a microphone between them. Paw‑printed papers lie on the desk, and Balboa’s small gray toy mouse sits on the black cat’s side. Behind them, a large studio screen shows a bear catching a salmon with the headline “FAT BEAR WEEK 2026.” The newsroom background is softly blurred with blue and red lighting.

WMEO Weekend Update – Fat Bears Are Back- We Meow, You Listen

Banner: Good evening, Taunton — the salmon are running, the bears are bulking, and Fat Bear Week is lumbering back into the spotlight.

Balboa: And some of these guys are so round they need their own zip code.

Banner: Fat Bear Week runs September 22–29 this year. It started in 2014 as an annual competition celebrating how the brown bears of Katmai and Brooks Camp pack on weight before settling in for their long winter sleep.

Balboa: Pack on weight? These guys carbo‑load like they’re training for the Salmon Olympics. They add blubber faster than a whale on cheat day.

Banner: Park Superintendent Mark Sturm says Brooks Camp has more cubs this year than they’ve seen in a long time. The new generation is off to a strong start.

Balboa: Strong start? They’re practically born into a bracket. Last year, over 1.7 million votes came in from more than 100 countries before Bear 32 — “Chunk” — took home the crown.

A large brown bear stands in a rushing river near a small waterfall, its fur wet and heavy. The bear faces forward with a piece of fish visible near its mouth, surrounded by flowing water and rocky terrain in a natural wilderness setting.

 

Banner: The 2026 Fat Bear Week bracket dropped Friday,  September 18. Voting runs September 22–29 (no weekend voting), and the champion will be crowned September 29.

Balboa: Chunk is back to defend his title. And remember — these bears gain most of their weight by eating fish. Fish! One of humans’ favorite diet foods. Do we need to rethink everything.

Banner: If you want to be one of the more than 1.7 million people who voted last year…

Balboa: From more than 100 countries!

Banner: Yes, from more than 100 countries — head over to the Fat Bear Week website, meet the bears, and vote for your 2026 champion.

Balboa: My money’s on Chunk. Two‑time champ material right there. And remember — Chunk may be a champion, but he’s no teddy bear.

Two cats sit behind a news desk labeled “WMEO 9 – Thank you for watching.” The orange cat on the left and the black cat on the right pose like news anchors. A small gray toy mouse and a light‑brown teddy bear rest on the desk in front of them, with paw‑printed papers nearby. The background shows a softly blurred newsroom with glowing blue and red lights.

Banner (closing): That’s your WMEO Weekend Update — stay curious, stay chunky, and remember: in Katmai, size does matter.

Balboa: And so does the salmon count.

 

When a Chore Turns Into a Treasure Hunt

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Two deer standing in a sunlit grassy clearing surrounded by dense green foliage.

Rediscovering Hidden Gems in My Photo Archives

Dolphins swimming together at the ocean surface with their dorsal fins visible above the water.When I started The Great Photo Tagging Project, I was doing everything I could not to feel overwhelmed. My archives had grown to more than 10,000 photos, and most of them weren’t tagged. Any time I needed a specific picture, I had to scroll endlessly—unless I happened to remember the exact year and month I took it.

Take Hawaii, for example. I started traveling there in 2008 and went annually for years. I have hundreds of photos from those trips, but no clue which year a particular shot belonged to. Finding one specific image felt nearly impossible.

To make matters worse, I didn’t know about tagging when I began blogging. I’d find a photo, use it, and then toss it right back into the black hole of the untagged archives. So when I finally decided to tackle this project, it felt daunting.

The Slow March Through the BacklogA powerful geyser eruption sending steam and water upward, surrounded by grassy terrain and a forested backdrop.

At first, everything went smoothly. I was happily tagging away, and I made a rule: any new photo gets tagged immediately so I don’t add to the backlog. Somewhere along the line, though, the fun faded. Tagging became a chore.

Still, I was determined. I’d skip a day or two, then come back and knock out a page of 20 photos, slowly working my way backward through the years.

I’m currently in November 2016, inching my way toward the very beginning of the archive—January 2011. Some months are easy with just 10 or 20 photos. But then I hit a trip month and suddenly I’m staring down 300 images. Momentum? Slowed.

When the Chore Became a Treasure Hunt

But recently something unexpected happened. Without a car, I haven’t been able to get out and take new photos, so I’ve been relying on the archives. And as I started reviewing images in small batches, I began noticing things I’d completely missed before.

Treasure #1: The Puffin

Original puffin photo showing the bird floating on calm water before enlargement.I once waded through more than 200 puffin photos during post‑processing and somehow missed a gem. But while tagging, I enlarged one tiny puffin and—there it was—the iconic mouthful‑of‑fish shot I thought I’d missed forever. My first treasure.

Close‑up of an Atlantic puffin with a mouthful of fish, revealing details missed in the original thumbnail.

Treasure #2: Haleakala

The untouched Haleakala photo showing the raw volcanic landscape before post‑processing.I’ve always loved my Haleakala photo, but my artistic eye said it was a little flat. When I rediscovered it during tagging, I decided to give it a little post‑processing love. Suddenly it had punch, depth, drama. Treasure number two.

Vibrant, enhanced photo of Haleakala’s volcanic terrain with sharp detail and dramatic cloud formations.

Treasure #3: The Submarine Shots

The untouched shipwreck photo showing the quiet underwater scene before enhancement.Then came two photos taken from a submarine. Shooting through thick porthole glass isn’t ideal, but with a little editing magic, those images transformed from “nice memory” to “something really special.”

The transformed shipwreck image showing rich color, marine life, and dramatic underwater detail after post‑processing.

The untouched eagle ray photo showing the quiet underwater moment before enhancement.

Vibrant, enhanced photo of three spotted eagle rays swimming across the ocean floor, showcasing their patterns and graceful movement.

Finding Beauty in the “Ugly Ducklings”

Now I’m energized again. I’m not just tagging my inventory—I’m hunting for hidden gems. I’m looking for those overlooked, imperfect photos that just need a little love to become beautiful swans.

And honestly? I can’t wait to find my next treasure.

What about you? Have you ever looked at an old photo with new eyes and discovered a treasure hiding in plain sight?

 

The Remarkable Return of Maine’s Puffins

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Five Atlantic puffins stand together on a large gray rock, their bright orange feet and colorful beaks contrasting with the muted stone. Green vegetation and blurred rocks fill the background, creating a natural coastal island setting.

 

A Personal Puffin Prelude

A scattered group of seabirds floats on choppy ocean water, bobbing among small waves. The birds are spaced across the frame, creating a sense of movement and open sea.I’ve shared my own puffin‑chasing adventures in Maine — from the fog‑soaked boat ride to Eastern Egg Rock to the wild, wind‑whipped journey out to Machias Seal Island in Canadian waters. Those trips were unforgettable, and they gave me the chance to photograph the clowns of the sea up close.

But I don’t think I’ve ever told the story behind why puffins disappeared from Maine in the first place, or how they eventually came home. It’s a tale equal parts heartbreaking and hopeful — and a reminder that humans can cause great harm, but also great healing.

When Feathers Became FashionAn illustrated group of five women wearing elaborate late‑19th‑century hats, each decorated with feathers, bows, or plumes. The women are dressed in high‑collared blouses with lace and ruffles, showcasing the ornate fashion styles of the era.

To understand the puffins’ disappearance, we have to step back to the late 1800s, when extravagant feathered hats were the height of fashion. Women’s hats weren’t just decorated — they were practically entire bird displays. Egrets were especially prized, but they weren’t the only victims.

A feather census in New York City once documented more than 700 women wearing hats adorned with feathers from roughly 40 native bird species. Herons, owls, woodpeckers — all were hunted, plucked, and sold to meet the demand.

Feathers became a global commodity. When the Titanic sailed on its maiden voyage, it carried more than 40 cases of millinery feathers destined for New York. Adjusted for today’s value, those crates were insured for over $2.3 million. In 1912, only diamonds were worth more pound for pound.

The Puffins Pay the Price

An Atlantic puffin stands on a pale rock near the ocean, its bright orange feet and colorful beak contrasting with the blue water in the background.Atlantic puffins once thrived on islands throughout the Gulf of Maine. But the feather trade wasn’t their only threat. Puffins were also hunted for meat and eggs, and their colonies were systematically wiped out.

At the same time, humans were destroying tern colonies — not realizing that terns acted as natural security guards. Without terns to chase off gulls, eagles, and other predators, puffins had no protection. They abandoned their nesting islands.

By the early 1900s, puffins had vanished entirely from the United States.

A Graduate Student With a Big Idea

Fast‑forward to 1971. Stephen Kress, then a young ornithology graduate student from Cornell, was working as a wildlifeAn Atlantic puffin stands on a rocky surface holding several small fish in its colorful beak. Its bright orange feet contrast with the muted rocks, and the scene reflects the bird’s natural coastal habitat. instructor in Maine. He learned that puffins once bred on Eastern Egg Rock, just six miles away — but hadn’t returned in nearly a century.

That discovery lit a fire in him.

Kress launched what became known as Project Puffin, an ambitious effort to reestablish a breeding colony on Eastern Egg Rock. Because puffins spend most of the year floating on the open ocean and only return to land to breed, he had a narrow window — April through August — to make the island feel like home.

The Early Experiments

An Atlantic puffin stands on a rocky surface, its bright orange feet and colorful beak vivid against the gray stones. Mossy patches on the rocks hint at its natural coastal habitat.

Kress and his team built artificial burrows and hand‑raised puffin chicks brought from Newfoundland. Between 1973 and 1981, they transplanted 954 pufflings to Eastern Egg Rock.

The chicks fledged successfully… but none returned to breed.

Mirrors, decoys, artificial burrows — nothing convinced the puffins to stay. For years, Egg Rock was a place to visit, not a place to raise a family.

The Turning Point

Everything changed in 1980 when terns — absent since 1936 — suddenly began nesting on Eastern Egg Rock again. TheirA tern flies low over rippling ocean water with its wings spread wide, holding a small fish in its beak as droplets fall beneath it. return created the protective environment puffins needed.

And then, in 1981, the miracle happened: the first puffling was raised on Egg Rock by puffin parents.

That single chick marked the beginning of a comeback no one had thought possible.

A close-up portrait of an Atlantic puffin, its bright orange-and-red beak and black-and-white plumage sharply detailed against a softly blurred background.A Colony Reborn

Today, Eastern Egg Rock hosts a thriving puffin colony along with roseate terns, black guillemots, razorbills, and other seabirds. Across five Maine islands, there are now roughly 1,300 breeding pairs of Atlantic puffins.

A species once wiped out from U.S. waters is now restored — thanks to persistence, science, and a whole lot of hope.

A Welcome Home

It’s one of the greatest conservation success stories in North America. The puffins — those bright‑beaked, clumsy, wonderful little birds — are back where they belong.

And every time I see them, whether bobbing on the waves or hopping into their burrows with a beak full of fish, I’m reminded that sometimes humans really can fix what humans broke.

An Atlantic puffin floats on calm ocean water, holding several small silver fish in its colorful beak. Its black-and-white plumage contrasts with the rippled blue surface around it.

JUST ANOTHER TRIP ON THE ROAD OF LIFE

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Expansive badlands landscape with layered rock formations, rugged cliffs, and grassy rolling hills under a partly cloudy sky.

🌾 Feeling Philosophical Today

I saw a meme this morning, and it stopped me in my tracks. Now, most memes fall into one of three categories:

  • the ones that make me laugh
  • the ones that make me mad
  • and the ones that don’t deserve a second glance

But this one… this one hit close to home.

Older woman with short white hair riding a bicycle on a gravel path beside a lake, wearing a loose red dress, with the quote “A lot of life is just how you deal with the bumps in the road” and a small “Healing Heart’s” logo beneath it.

🚜 Why Around Dusty Roads Exists

White car driving fast on a winding dirt road, kicking up a large cloud of dust in a dry rural landscape with sparse vegetation.I named my blog Around Dusty Roads because the roads I grew up on really were dusty. Dirt roads everywhere — except during mud season or winter, when they turned into icy slip‑n‑slides. That’s just life in the Adirondacks when you’re a kid.

These days, most of those roads are paved, civilized, and well-behaved. But if you know where to look, you can still find a few honest-to-goodness dirt roads hiding out like old friends.

And that meme made me think of those roads.

🛞 Life’s Bumpy RoadsLong straight dirt road stretching across open grassy plains with scattered muddy potholes under a cloudy sky.

Life is full of bumps, potholes, and mud. You don’t get to choose whether they show up — only how you deal with them when they do.

One of my favorite examples? The day my sister Sandy and I got spectacularly lost in South Dakota.

🤦‍♀️ The Pow Wow That Never Was

Straight dirt road stretching across wide open grassy plains under a cloudy sky, disappearing toward the distant horizon.We were on a Native American reservation, trying to get to a Pow Wow. We pulled out of the parking lot and immediately went right instead of left.

The road was dirt. It had rained the night before. So we had the perfect combination: dry dust on top, mud and puddles underneath. A real adventure starter kit.

About five minutes in, we both started to suspect we had gone the wrong way. The plains stretched out around us, wide and empty, and that dirt road just kept going. And going. And going.

Sandy muttered, “Stupid white women,” imagining exactly what the guy who gave us directions must’ve thought as he watched us confidently head off in the wrong direction.

And that was it. The tone was set. We laughed — oh my, did we laugh.

We laughed like hyenas as we splashed through puddles, slid through mud, and barreled down what felt like the Longest Dirt Road in the World. Every mile made it funnier.

We never found the Pow Wow. But when we finally reached a tiny village and a blessedly paved road, we laughed even harder. Sandy wanted to get out and kiss the asphalt.

🌟 A Memory That Sticks

That muddy detour in South Dakota still stands out as one of those unforgettable moments — not because we were lost, but because we laughed our way through every ridiculous mile.

Life throws mud holes, wrong turns, and endless stretches of uncertainty at all of us. But the journey gets a whole lot lighter when you can find something to smile about while you’re slogging through it.

🚲 Just Keep Pedaling

So, like the lady in the meme: Deal with the bumps in the road. Keep moving forward. And whatever happens… just keep pedaling.

Child riding a bicycle through a small puddle on a dirt path, lifting both legs off the pedals, surrounded by green grass and trees.