Marvels of the Ancients and Wonders Closer to Home

 

The Treasury, Petra, Jordan

Dreaming of Distant Civilizations

Every now and then, I find myself drifting into another trip down memory lane—this time not to places I’ve been, but to the astonishing achievements of ancient civilizations. I watch those TV specials all the time, the ones that showcase the impossible feats of early engineers and builders. It’s hard not to marvel at Egypt’s colossal monuments, from the timeless pyramids to the Avenue of Sphinxes stretching toward Karnak.

Then there’s Angkor Wat in Cambodia, a temple complex so vast and intricate it feels like something out of a dream. And China’s Great Wall—recent discoveries reveal it spans an incredible 13,171 miles, far more than we once believed. These are the kinds of wonders that make you stop and shake your head in disbelief.

Chances of me ever visiting any of these sites are slim to none, at least in this lifetime. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t found marvels of my own, closer to home.

A Surprise in the Arizona Desert

One such wonder was Montezuma’s Castle in Arizona. I hadn’t planned the visit; it was simply something to do on vacation. But sometimes the unplanned moments become the most memorable.

Montezuma’s Castle

Walking along the curving path, I had no idea what awaited me. Then I rounded a bend—and there it was. A five‑story cliff dwelling tucked into a limestone alcove, impossibly high and impossibly well‑preserved. It may not have the heart‑stopping grandeur of the Grand Canyon, but as a man‑made marvel, it holds its own.

Built by the ancient Sinagua people, the structure’s rooms, balconies, and stonework speak to a level of ingenuity that still inspires awe. Visitors can no longer climb the ladders to explore the interior, but standing at the base was enough for me. It was a moment of quiet appreciation for the people who carved out a home in the cliffs long before our modern world existed.

 

A Glimpse of Ancient Mexico

Leaving the Southwest behind, I think back to one of my rare trips outside the U.S.—a short cruise to Mexico with my friend and fellow explorer, JR. We docked in Cozumel and were quickly herded onto a tour bus bound for Tulum.

We weren’t in Mexico long enough to soak in the full flavor of the country, but Tulum made every minute count. Ancient structures perched above the turquoise sea, their weathered stones whispering stories of the Aztec world. The combination of age, beauty, and mystery was almost too much to take in at once.

The Joy of Remembering

I may never stand beneath the pyramids or wander the halls of Angkor Wat, but revisiting these memories—both near and far—reminds me that wonder doesn’t always require a passport. Sometimes it’s waiting around a corner on a desert trail. Sometimes it’s a day trip from a cruise ship. And sometimes it’s simply found in remembering where we’ve been and imagining where we might go next.


 

When Travel Feels Like Imagination Come to Life

 

Yesterday I shared my thoughts on imagination — that wonderful, boundless world we carry in our minds. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized something surprising. Those same feelings of wonder, disbelief, and pure childlike awe show up in another part of my life too: when I’m traveling and exploring the world.

There’s a particular kind of magic that happens when reality feels too extraordinary to be real. It’s the same spark I felt as a child pretending to see fairies in the woods, only now it comes from standing in front of places so breathtaking they feel like they were dreamed into existence.

🌄 The Grand Canyon: A Vision Too Vast to Believe

I still remember the first time I laid eyes on the Grand Canyon. The wonder of it was overwhelming — a dizzying spectacle of color, depth, and silence. People say it “takes your breath away,” and for once that wasn’t an exaggeration. I literally forgot to breathe.

It felt like a projection, a backdrop, something painted by a giant with an overactive imagination. How could anything so massive, so intricate, so impossibly beautiful be real? And yet there it was, stretching out before me, daring me to believe my own eyes.

Grand Canyon

🌋 Hawaii’s Chain of Craters Road: Fire Meeting the Sea

Another moment etched into my memory forever happened on Hawaii’s Chain of Craters Road. I had nothing but a disposable camera with me, but honestly, no photograph could have captured what I saw.

Plumes of brilliant white vog rose where molten lava met the ocean. The sky was a vivid, endless blue. The contrast was surreal — like watching the earth breathe. It was raw, elemental, and unforgettable.

🦌 Wyoming’s Elk Migration: Wildness in Motion

In Wyoming, I watched elk herds migrate across the landscape. There were fences, roads, and signs of human life all around, but none of it mattered. In that moment, those animals were exactly what they had always been — wild, free, and following ancient paths to their wintering grounds.

Elk Migration

It felt like witnessing a story older than memory.

🌡️ Yellowstone’s Geysers: A Step Back in TimeOld Faithful Erupts

Yellowstone added its own chapter to my collection of wonders. The primal energy of the geysers, the hiss of steam, the earth rumbling beneath my feet — it all felt like stepping into a prehistoric world.

Buffalo wandered through clouds of steam along the Firehole River as if they had been doing it for centuries. Maybe they had. Time seemed to fold in on itself there.

snuba at Turtletown 2020

🌊 Encounters Beneath the Waves

Some of my most magical travel moments happened underwater. I’ve snorkeled with manta rays and scuba‑dived with sea turtles, drifting through a world so peaceful and alien it felt like a dream.

I’ve watched humpback whales breach with breathtaking power, and I’ve been surrounded by dolphins spinning and leaping like acrobats putting on a private show.

And then there are the tiny wonders — like the little octopus I spotted off Maui, curious and delicate, reminding me that magic exists at every scale.

✨ Wonder That Stays With You

When I think of the places I’ve been, I hardly have the words to describe the wonder. How do you put experiences like that into sentences? How do you capture the feeling of being so small and so alive at the same time?

Maybe you don’t. Maybe you just carry those moments with you — treasures you can revisit anytime your mind needs a spark of joy or a reminder that the world is far bigger and more beautiful than we often remember.

These memories are my own living daydreams, the real‑world magic I get to enjoy over and over again. And in their own way, they’re every bit as powerful as imagination itself.

 

Colorado: Chasing Trains, Mountains, and Maybe Bigfoot (Part 2)

Why I Missed the Durango & Silverton Railroad

Yesterday I mentioned that I wasn’t able to ride the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad during my Colorado trip. I was staying in Breckenridge at the time, and thanks to the pandemic, many of the time‑share resorts I normally used were either closed or operating with limited availability. When my vacation week rolled around, Breckenridge was the only place I could find a room—so that’s where I landed.

Breckenridge sits in central Colorado, not far from Denver and within reach of places like Pikes Peak. Ironically, I managed to miss that too. Meanwhile, the Durango & Silverton is located in the far southwestern corner of the state. From Breckenridge, it would have been a four‑to‑five‑hour drive just to reach the station. Even if I made it in time for a late departure, I’d have no way to return the same day without losing another full day to the commute. In the end, I decided it was better to save the experience for a dedicated trip to that part of Colorado.

A Bigfoot Twist I Didn’t Expect

Of course, now I have even more reason to go back. Do you believe in Bigfoot? As the old X‑Files tagline says, I want to believe. I grew up in Upstate New York, not far from Whitehall—one of the most famous Bigfoot hotspots in the country. Sightings there go back centuries, and a major 1976 encounter involving law enforcement helped cement Whitehall’s reputation among cryptozoology fans. I somehow missed all of this growing up, but the lore fascinates me now.

So when I heard about a possible Bigfoot sighting in southwestern Colorado, right near the Durango & Silverton line, that train ride shot straight back onto my bucket list.

My Love for Vintage Trains

Steam In The Snow, Conway NH

There’s something magical about riding a vintage steam train. It feels like stepping back in time. I’ve taken the North Conway “Steam in the Snow” excursion and ridden the 1880 Train in South Dakota, where our guide kept us laughing as he pointed out scenery—and the “summer cows,” some white, some black.

Filling up with water for steam- 1880 Train SD

I’ve also experienced the Grand Canyon Railway and several modern sightseeing trains, each with its own charm.

Grand Canyon R R

Why the Durango & Silverton Is Still Calling My Name

But the Durango & Silverton is in a league of its own. Durango was founded by the Denver & Rio Grande Railway in 1880, and the line to Silverton was completed just two years later. Originally built to haul silver and gold ore from the San Juan Mountains, the route quickly became beloved for something even more valuable: the views.

This historic steam train winds through rugged canyons, along cliff edges, and past forests where wildlife still thrives. Elk, mule deer, black bears, and bighorn sheep are all possibilities. And if the legends are true—maybe even something a little more mysterious.

Either way, the Durango & Silverton promises a scenic adventure worth waiting for. And next time, I won’t be five hours away.

Looking Ahead to the Next Adventure

Colorado didn’t unfold the way I expected, but sometimes the trips we don’t take end up shaping the ones we will. Missing the Durango & Silverton, battling altitude sickness, and stumbling into a possible Bigfoot mystery have all given me new reasons to return—this time with a clearer plan and a sense of curiosity leading the way. Whether I go for the history, the scenery, the wildlife, or the chance to glimpse something unexplained, I know the next journey will be worth the wait. Until then, I’ll keep dreaming, researching, and adding new pins to the map, because the adventure isn’t over. It’s just on pause.

Colorado: The Trip I Didn’t Expect (Part 1)

 

Reevaluating Travel After Retirement

I used to joke that I worked so I could travel. Then I got laid off, which quietly turned into retirement, and suddenly that old expression felt very real. These days my “trips” are mostly to the local grocery store.

But that hasn’t stopped me from dreaming. I still read, plan, and binge travel videos while I explore side hustles to support my travel habit.

Why Colorado Became My Last Big Trip

Colorado was the last real adventure I took as COVID wound down and life began to feel normal again. I’ll admit—it wasn’t one of my favorite trips. Even before I left, I struggled to choose which part of the state to visit. Colorado is huge, and the list of iconic destinations is overwhelming.

Colorado’s Endless List of Must‑See Attractions

From sweeping landscapes to historic sites, Colorado is packed with bucket‑list stops:

  • Rocky Mountain National Park
  • Pikes Peak
  • Garden of the Gods
  • Great Sand Dunes National Park
  • Royal Gorge Bridge, the world’s highest suspension bridge
  • Four Corners Monument, where Colorado, Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico meet
  • Mesa Verde National Park, high on my personal list

I even watched Josh Gates explore the Telluride region and retrace the steps of Butch Cassidy, which only added more destinations to my already long list.

Why I Ended Up in Breckenridge

Despite all those options, I landed in Breckenridge. And instead of hiking and exploring, I spent more time lying down than standing up. Altitude sickness hit me harder than expected and slowed me to a crawl.

I searched for bighorn sheep with no luck, but I did spot a couple of moose—small victories count.

The Train Ride I Missed

I managed to squeeze in a train ride, but not the one I really wanted: the iconic Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. That one is still on my list, and it’s going to play a big role in Part 2 of this story.

A Curious Colorado Mystery

That train came back to mind recently when I saw a video clip making the rounds online. It appeared to show a huge, hairy figure striding across a hillside near the tracks. Whether it was a prank, a shadow, or something more mysterious… well, that’s a tale for the next post.

 

Tower in the Sea

Rising from the waves like a sentinel of stone, Boon Island Light is New England’s tallest lighthouse—and one of its most haunting maritime landmarks. With a nod to my sister’s enduring love of lighthouses and a dash of wanderlust, I invite you to explore the story of this remote Maine beacon, where history, hardship, and the sea converge.

 

🌊 A Tower in the Sea: Introduction to Boon Island Light

Located 6.5 miles off the coast of York, Maine, Boon Island Light is the tallest lighthouse in New England, rising 133 feet from a barren outcrop in the Atlantic. Its isolated perch and storm-battered silhouette have made it a symbol of resilience and maritime vigilance.

🕰️ From Shipwrecks to Signals: A Storied Past

Drawing of the Nottingham Galley shipwreck

The island’s name may stem from early fishermen who left provisions for shipwrecked sailors—a “boon” in desperate times. But its most infamous tale is the 1710 wreck of the Nottingham Galley, whose crew resorted to cannibalism to survive. This tragedy sparked calls for a permanent warning beacon.

Builders erected the first lighthouse in 1811, but relentless storms repeatedly tore down those early structures. In 1855, they completed the current granite tower, outfitting it with a second-order Fresnel lens and a fog horn that still sounds every 10 seconds.

🛠️ Automation and Preservation

After a devastating blizzard in 1978 washed away all keeper dwellings, the station was automated in 1980. Today, Boon Island Light remains an active aid to navigation, owned by the U.S. Coast Guard and leased to the American Lighthouse Foundation, though it’s in need of major restoration.

🚫 Remote and Inaccessible—Yet Irresistible

Boon Island is not open to the public, and its rocky terrain makes landings treacherous. Still, its allure draws lighthouse enthusiasts and historians. Scenic boat tours occasionally pass by, offering distant glimpses of this stoic sentinel.

📚 Legacy in Literature and Lore

The lighthouse’s grim history inspired Kenneth Roberts’ novel “Boon Island”, and its stark beauty has been described as “an eternal exclamation mark” by 19th-century writer Samuel Adams Drake. It’s a place where nature, history, and human endurance collide.