Family Adventure

"Towards you, towards you, pull it towards you," my father yells to my mom, referring to the tiller that sits on her lap. We’re aboard my dad’s 22-foot Catalina, sailing at a good 10-knot clip across the cobalt waters of Lake George on our way back to his dock. Mom’s steering, dad’s barking orders, and I’m on the bow of the boat, ready to jump onto terra firma, but first I have to listen to my parent’s banter, a routine I’ve witnessed far too many times.

“What the hell are you doing? Aim for the house,” my dad bellows, pointing to a small white house that stands on the hillside above our dock. My father’s voice always seems to rise a notch or two in volume every time he steps foot into his sailboat. That’s usually what happens to former Lieutenants in the Navy. They resign their commission in the military, buy a small boat of their own, and quickly ascend to the rank of Admiral.  Nevertheless, my mom always remains as cool as the water in this lake, easily gliding the boat into the dock without a scratch. Once the lines are tied, she stands up, and ends with the tag line, “not bad for a Bronx girl.” “Yeah, not bad,” my father mutters back, forgetting that Mom also taught him how to drive.

Those two paragraphs are the first words I ever wrote on Lake George, for a magazine called Endless Vacation back in 1996. Both my parents are gone, but I have incredible memories of our family sailing, paddling, and boating this 32-mile gem in the Adirondacks. And I continue to create new memories. This week, I’m traveling with my brother Jim as we kayak around the Sagamore, boat with Ron Miller aboard his 1971 Lyman, and take a paddlewheeler cruise aboard The Mohican. 

I’ve been sailing the waters of Lake George before I learned to walk, or so I’m told.  Growing up in these sylvan surroundings, I took its beauty for granted; the verdant mountainside that slopes to the lake’s edge on either side, the pine-studded islands that provide perfect anchorages for boaters, the narrow width that’s easily mistaken for a long rambling river. Working as a travel writer, I’ve had the good fortune to visit many of the world’s most famous lakes—Tahoe, Como in Italy, Taupo in New Zealand, Lucerne in Switzerland, but given the choice, I’ll take Lake George on a weekday (on summer weekends, the influx of motorboats and jet skies makes the lake seem a lot smaller). It’s the reason why “Sailing Lake George” topped my list of “5 Family Adventures Not Soon Forgotten,” my most recent article on the lake in a March issue of The Boston Globe. 

I’ve had the pleasure of speaking about my career as a travel writer at 15 state travel conferences, including Mississippi, Louisiana, North Dakota, Nebraska, and Nevada. Talking to publicists, hotel owners, outfitters, and heads of city CVBs, I discuss how to attract travel writers to a destination and how to entice them to return throughout their career, continuously turning out stories for magazines, newspapers, and blogs. At every one of those speeches, I’ve included this paragraph:

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. 

Parents of teenagers know it’s never an easy feat to wake them up before 8 am while on vacation. Now imagine getting them to board the Kamloops to Lake Louise portion of the Rocky Mountaineer trip at 6:30. Of course they complain, but once you’re sitting in the Glacier Dome seats of the train, staring up at the mountain vistas through the glass ceiling, my kids seem content. Even more so when a hot breakfast arrives and the train is quickly socked into a mesmerizing valley of towering peaks. 

Exhausted from far too many 5 am wake-up calls, 90-minute drives in and out of Quito to the airport, and long longboat rides in the Amazon, my family was in poor spirits when we arrived in the Galapagos Islands for the last segment of our summer trip to Ecuador. But it’s amazing how a motorboat cruise on the ocean and all that water can wash away the toxins of travel. Listening to our iPods and watching the dolphins and orcas swim beside us, we were relaxed by the time we reached the sea lions lounging on the docks of Floreana. A driver brought us to our lodging for the next two nights, Floreana Lava Lodge, simple wooden cabins on the beach with the sound of pounding waves to lull you to sleep. The owners, a brother and sister team of Claudio and Aura, were two of 12 siblings that were brought up on the island. Their father and mother moved to Floreana in 1939 and today there are only 150 full-time residents. 

Vermont is rolling out fresh video each week this autumn to give wannabe leaf peepers an accurate assessment of what they’ll see when heading to the state. In the first video in the “Seeing is Beleafing” series, Jen Butson, an old friend from Ski Vermont, gets the plump assignment of going hot air ballooning over Lake Champlain and surrounding rolling fields. The webpage VermontVacation.com/fall will keep you updated with foliage reports and feature weekly recommended driving routes, events, deals and another celebration of the season, Apple to iPods, where visitors to 20 Vermont apple orchards can search for wooden apples and win an Apple iPod, beginning September 7.