Social Distancing is the Name of the Game for Austin Adventures

In my 20s, I was fortunate to scuba dive the Great Barrier Reef, bike the entirety of the Big Island, whitewater raft down an unchartered river in British Columbia, and backpack in the Mojave Desert. Then we had our first child and suddenly all my outdoor gear was collecting dust in an apartment closet. Going stir crazy one day, I called my dad who gave me the wise advice to simply bring my son with me on my adventures. Next thing you know, I’m biking the hills of Vermont with Jake on the back of the bike, helmet covering his sleeping body. You don’t have to give up your life of adventure once you have children. Indeed, kids thrive on the excitement and unscripted spontaneity of each outdoor challenge. It also doesn’t hurt that many of the finer outdoor activities are located amidst some of the most exquisite scenery on the planet. Now I travel with Jake, 17, and Melanie, 15, as much as possible, and they’re the ones teaching me how to improve my sport. 

There’s no better fall activity in New England than hitting an orchard, trying the variety of apples, buying homemade cider, and tasting the warm, just made doughnuts. We have photographs of the kids picking apples every year, and like the trees, they seem to sprout up far too quickly. My son has a short break from college and is coming home tonight, so I’m hoping to get to the orchards on Sunday. I’m a fan of cortlands and macs, which are probably gone by now, but I don’t care. It will be great to get out there and climb those trees, even when I’m not supposed to be climbing those trees! Have a great Columbus Day Weekend and keep active! 

My kids weren’t too pleased to wake up at 6:30 am on summer vacation, but I wanted to be at Carara National Park at 7 am, when it opened. I knew from prior trips to the country that Carara was one of the few places to see that majestic bird, the scarlet macaw. Last time here, I heard a loud noise, only to peer up at a family of four vibrantly colored macaws. That is an image I was hoping to recreate. We arrived early and the gate was closed. In summer, Carara opens at 8 am read the sign. Screw it. The kids were already giving me grief for waking them up, so we sneaked in through the gate and started our hike. An hour later, we were covered in sweat from the sweltering rainforest humidity and had only spotted one very large Jesus Christ lizard. No macaws. We drove back to the hotel and I was bumming big time. 

To celebrate a big birthday for my mother-in-law, 14 members of the family made their way to Ogunquit, Maine in mid-July for 3 nights. I haven’t been back to Ogunquit since I wrote my cover story for Yankee Magazine on the Top 25 Beach Towns in New England, naming Ogunquit over Provincetown as the best beach town in New England. I was happy to see the article from the July/August 2012 issue framed on the wall of The Beachmere Inn, where we stayed. After a memorable weekend, I can honestly say that I made the right choice naming Ogunquit my number one beach town. I ditched the car in the parking lot and didn’t see it again until I left. The view of the Atlantic and the 3 ½-mile stretch of beachfront from the Beachmere was just as glorious as I remembered. We would stroll down the sloping lawn to the Marginal Way, and either take a left to hit the beach or veer right to walk along the rugged shoreline to the restaurants in Perkins Cove. The big birthday dinner was held in a private room at MC Perkins Cove, a restaurant I first discovered when it debuted, reporting for Boston Globe Magazine’s Best of the New issue. The meal and service were both exceptional. So was our first night’s dinner at Oarweed at an outdoor table overlooking the Atlantic, digging into the freshest lobster I’ve had in a long time, washed down with a Blueberry Ale.