Archive for the ‘Water travel’ Category

Salvaging a cruise ship? We can only imagine

February 2, 2012

I’m not surprised it will take months to salvage the Costa Concordia, the cruise ship that sunk off the coast of Giglio, Italy. Even moving small boats is a major ordeal.

Stranded sailboat Aurora on Shell Key

Lina and I saw this firsthand in late December when we happened upon a sailboat that had washed ashore on Shell Key in St. Petersburg, Fla. We’d kayaked from Fort De Soto State Park over to the island, and for the longest time we’d seen in the distance what looked like a large pavilion, which made no sense. Then Lina realized it was a boat that had washed ashore.

A four-man crew was doing the salvage work

We pulled up onto the island for a picnic and a stroll, and passed by the work area. The head of the four-man crew doing the salvage work told us the owner hadn’t had the money to rescue the boat right away, so it sank deeper and deeper in the sand. The men had been there all day digging and pulling and using all sorts of winch contraptions to get it out. Then they were going to take a chain saw and cut it up and haul it away. Of course they’d had to bring over all their equipment in their boats, which were anchored nearby. I don’t know if they finished the job that day, but it was quite the project.

After we got home, Lina did a little digging of her own and discovered others had photographed and written about the boat, named The Aurora, and that it had been there maybe six months. No wonder it was so buried! (It was registered in Laurel, Fla., just north of Venice.) Some other photos had been posted online here and here in August, and then a photographer, Ron Masters, wrote about it and posted many more photos. As you can see between earlier photos and our recent ones, the boat had been stripped of all its equipment, accessories, and more. It was nothing but a shell when we encountered it.  Avoiding such scenarios is one of the many reasons that Lina and I are happy to stick with kayaks!

Special watery worlds in the Netherlands

September 19, 2011

Giethoorn isn't Venice, but it is cute

We were so lucky. We had to change the day we’d designated for cycling in the Netherlands and the weather cooperated. We had only one rainstorm, and the wind, well, the wind is omnipresent, hence the country’s proliferation of windmills. For hill-loving cyclists like us, it compensates for the flat terrain. And, finally, I made it to Giethoorn, which has been on my list for a while. It’s called the “Venice of the Netherlands” (no comparison) and also got a little attention via a viral email hawking pictures from a Dutch town that has no cars.

 Well, yes and no. Only about a mile of Giethoorn is carless and it’s very, very touristy. But it was indeed cute, and has several places to eat, drink and shop, along with rent bikes and boats. (Bikes were an affordable $10.50 a day.) We enjoyed it, but were also happy to head out for less-populated areas.

Kalenberg was favorite stop of the day

Our 30-mile loop first took us along a very rural bike path (paved, of course) with no traffic and then through marshland and finally to Kalenberg, which I’m guessing Giethoorn resembled before the tourists descended. All houses were along a canal (this one was wider and more open) and one side of town was reachable only by boat or walking. The houses were adorable and everything was tidy and attractive. A little drawbridge joined the two sides and a café there overlooked the canal.

17th-century Blokzijl used to be on the sea

From there we headed for Blokzijl, a 17th-century city with a nice harbor on the former Zuiderzee, aka the South Sea (not to be confused with the South Seas). After they created (in 1942) a polder there, i.e. they reclaimed the land, the city became landlocked. Fascinating!

Lovely Lottie is a touring tekkel

On the way there, another highlight – greeting Lottie, a long-haired tekkel (dachshund) in a rear bike basket. My third tekkel of the trip! The wind about did us in, but we made it to town and thought it was lovely. Even lovelier was the tailwind back to Giethoorn, and the little bike ferry of Jonen that took us over a bridge-less canal. The price of $1.50 seemed reasonable at the time, but when I think about it, for a 30-second ride it was pricey.

All these towns are in the region called De Weerribben in the Overijssel Province. It’s a couple hours east of Amsterdam and a heck of a lot less crowded. Something different!

Stormproof Matches: burn, baby, burn

August 27, 2011

Stormproof Matches lit easily in the wind during our test

I’ve had Industrial Revolution brand Stormproof Matches to test for quite a while and, well, what better time to do it than during a hurricane — i.e. today, when Irene visited us here in North Carolina. I was sent the paper-container version pictured here, not this fancy kit that you can buy for $6 and which I recommend if you’re a big outdoorsperson.

As promised, they were very easy to light — even when the matches and striker were wet. I lit several during wind gusts of maybe 30 mph. But here’s the thing — when it’s really windy, the regular 15-second burn time goes much quicker. So you have to act fast. But still, they lit, unlike traditional matches, and they stayed lit once they got going.

A fancier carrying case is optional

The marketing information claimed the matches “are so water resistant they even remain lit after being submerged in water.” I was most excited to see this, but it didn’t work for me. Three times I dropped blazing matches into a bowl of water and the flame died immediately. So that claim went up in smoke, at least for this tester. OK, UPDATE: Got this from PR person after posting. “If you still have matches left, dunk them in water, take them back out and they should relight! It’s quite fun!” Unfortunately I’m now far from the matches for two weeks, so will try that when home. That makes more sense, I have to say! OK, NEW UPDATE: After submerging in water, the match did re-light, but it wasn’t a steady or smooth flame. Still, cool!

Industrial Revolution isn’t the only brand on these heavy-duty matches on the market, and I don’t know how they compare to others. I will say this — I will always have these kinds of matches with my camping gear from now on. I just hope I don’t ever need a submerged flame. Then again, who would?

What SUP with this water sport?

September 17, 2010

Man with dog SUPs on the intracoastal waterway near Indian Rocks Beach

OK, so I didn’t know this until recently, but maybe you do. SUP, or stand-up paddle surfing (sometimes called stand-up paddle boarding), is all the rage, from West Coast to East, and beyond.

During two recent visits to Indian Rocks Beach, on the West Coast of Florida, we saw SUP’ers. And I just learned that a friend there is dying to get a board. I hope she does, so maybe she’ll let me try it out. She says that with the right board, I’ll be able to stand up on it and paddle. During my two attempts to stand on a surfboard back when I was younger (though not necessarily stronger), I failed miserably, so I’m not convinced.

According to the font of all knowledge, Wikipedia, SUP comes from Hawaii, where it’s called hoe he’e nalu, an ancient form of surfing. Stand-up paddling gives paddlers a major “core” workout (move over, Pilates) while also working every muscle in your body. Yikes! It’s a tame sport, unless you do it in the waves.

Stand-up paddler in the Gulf of Mexico after a colorful sunset

SUP’ing is becoming popular at water resorts and surfing areas around the world, thanks in huge part to celebrities trying out the sport. (If only I’d been reading “Us” I would have known this earlier.) Like who? Well, Jennifer Aniston for one, and isn’t that all the American public needs to know?

In July, we saw a  stand-up paddler out in the Gulf. And last week, while we were kayaking in the intracoastal waterway between Indian Rocks and Belleair, we came upon a man SUP’ing with his dog! Too cute. We were happy to see the canine wearing a PFD. We assume he knows how to doggie paddle as well.

Great white shark sighting on Florida beach

April 14, 2010

Film poster JAWS, 1975, Universal Studios

Wessel pleaded with me to take a brief detour on the way home from dinner the other night. We were visiting our cute little condo in Indian Rocks Beach, Fla., and had just eaten at Keegan’s Seafood Grille. Wessel decided we should walk the two blocks home via the beach. “OK, if you insist,” I whined.

Little did I know what a treat we had in store. As we headed over the walkway from the county’s beach park, we stopped and gasped at the giant movie screen ON the beach! A movie was playing, popcorn was popping, and about 60 people in folding canvas chairs organized themselves in rows in front of the screens. I’ve been to movies on lawns and movies on rooftops, but never movies at the beach! Very exciting!

Saturday night movie -- at the beach!

But what really cracked me up is they were showing “Jaws 2.” Edgy! Seems to me the last film you’d want to see at the beach would be about a killer great white shark. Turns out the film was sponsored by the Indian Rocks Homeowners Association, which stages great events year-round. Hmmm, maybe they don’t want folks to move to the beach. Then again, they did offer free popcorn. Thanks, IRBers!

I never saw Jaws 2 (1978), which was not quite so well received as the original classic, which debuted in 1975. For me, the first version was quite enough. I saw it when I was living in Florida, and it scared the bejeezus out of me to the point that swimming in the ocean has never felt the same. Usually I’m rational about these things, and base my fears on probability. But in this case, Hollywood trumped.

Indian Rocks Beach the morning after .... it's eerily quiet. Duh nuh. Duh nuh...

Then I had to fill in my Dutch husband on all the pop culture surrounding “Jaws.” Such as “Saturday Night Live“’s “Candygram … Land Shark” skits, and how if you say “Duh-nuh. Duh-nuh… (Duh nun nuh nuh nuh. Duh nuh nuh nuh nuh),” it means danger is lurking nearby.

As detours go, that was quite a memorable one. Duh nuh. Duh nuh ….

Don’t bother knockin’ if my brain is rockin’

March 26, 2010
I was thrilled to be able to get the word out via a story in the Washington Post’s health section (reprinted below) about the crazy travel-related illness that I and others suffer from.  It’s called Mal de Debarquement, or MdDS, and is commonly (but not exclusively) triggered by going on a cruise. The main symptom is a constant rocking feeling, like you’re still on the boat. My big news is that I think the disease goddess chose to reward me for writing the story, because my “motion hallucination” seems to have finally dissipated after six months.  Read on if you’re interested in this fascinating blip of the brain, and spread the word so doctors will finally believe us!

Rare disorder makes people feel off balance for weeks or months

By Diane Daniel
Special to The Washington Post
Tuesday, March 16, 2010 

When Claudette Broyles tries to describe to friends how she feels, she likens herself to a balloon on a string, tied to a post.

“I’m constantly rocking and swaying, but the level changes,” said Broyles, 60, of Woodstock, Va. “If I’m having an average day, then it’s like I’m a balloon in a mild breeze. If I’m having a bad day, it’s like it’s really windy.”

I hadn’t heard the balloon analogy before, but I could relate.

This sailing trip in the Virgin Islands triggered my second bout of MdDS, in 2003

Broyles and I suffer from mal de debarquement syndrome (MdDS), an uncommon balance disorder that one researcher describes as “motion hallucination.” For weeks, months or even years at a time, we feel that we are rocking, bobbing, swaying, even though diagnostic tests for balance, hearing and vision show up normal. The name for the illness is French for “disembarkation sickness,” so called because it most frequently occurs after being on a boat.

Of course, many people have experienced the swaying sensations that occur just after a boat trip. But for those with MdDS, that feeling doesn’t let up; it persists with varying degrees of severity, causing everything from clumsiness to the inability to walk without some kind of support.

Just how many sufferers there are is unknown, says neurologist Yoon-Hee Cha, who this year launched a study funded in part by the National Institutes of Health, the first time federal money has been used for research into the syndrome.

“We don’t know how many people suffer from MdDS since many people are not able to get the right diagnosis,” she said. “Until there is more widespread familiarity among physicians, we won’t know for sure.” She isn’t sure who gave MdDS its name, but she believes it was first diagnosed in the late 1980s.

Cha, of UCLA’s David Geffen School of Medicine, uses neuro-imaging to try to identify the location in the brain affected during MdDS episodes, with the hope of finding a treatment and a cure.

“It’s a real disorder, even though patients don’t look sick. It’s still very under-recognized among physicians, so a lot of patients are educating their doctors about it,” she said.

Broyles is going through her fifth round of MdDS in 28 years. Most episodes, she believes, were triggered by boats, but the latest occurred after a turbulent flight from England. The first two subsided within a few weeks, and the other two within six months. Her most recent? It has lasted eight years — so far. The disorder prompted her to move from Fairfax to slower-paced Woodstock and has altered her life in many areas, she said.

(more…)

Florida mangroves create tunnel vision

January 4, 2010

Diane on the well-marked paddling trail

When Wessel suggested we take our kayaks and paddle among the mangrove islands at Weedon Island Preserve in Florida, my first thought was: we’ll get hopelessly lost for days and have to drink saltwater and eat alligator meat (after hunting them with our pocket knives).

I’d read that the state preserve (north of St. Petersburg on Tampa Bay) has two marked paddle trails. But I also know how easy it is to get turned around on the water, especially when all you see are water, sky, and outcroppings of mangrove trees.

A great blue heron waits for us to pass

As usual, Wessel convinced me to put my life in his hands, and off we went, our two Florida-based kayaks crammed into the Honda Civic (one on top, one out the rear), while I had to smoosh myself into a corner of the back seat. You can also rent kayaks right at the preserve through Sweetwater Kayaks.

Ibis colony along Papy’s Bayou

We chose the four-mile loop trail (the South Paddling Trail) over the two-mile up-and-back one. And, surprise, surprise, the trail wasn’t just marked, it was WELL marked. Even I, who can get turned around in my own neighborhood, was able to follow the sign posts, close to 40 of them. What a thrill! Thank you, Weedon Island!

After putting in next to the fishing pier, we crossed a little bit of the bay, then headed into the islands, paddling through several saltwater ponds and over seagrass beds and mudflats. As soon as we saw one marker, we’d look for the next. Sometimes they were a bit tucked away, but we never missed one.

Diane finds her way through the mangrove tunnel with half a kayak paddle

We saw a few jumping fish, great blue herons, egrets, and ibises. The real excitement was the mangrove tunnels, created by the trees and their exposed roots growing so close together that they form a canopy over tidal creeks. At times the passageway was so narrow we had to pull our detachable paddles apart and use only half. This is not the place to be when the bugs were out. In late December, no problem.

Wessel makes his way through mangroves

About a third of the way we pulled ashore at a little park for a picnic, the only stopping place along the trail. That little diversion would have been thoroughly pleasant had I not dumped a digital camera into the water while docking my boat. (Argh……..) The photos were saved, but not the camera.

The last leg of the 2.5-hour trip was along Papy’s Bayou, an area of deeper and open water, where we were greeted by cavorting dolphins. Thrilling! We can’t wait to return — next time with the waterproof camera.

Salida’s secret is out by now

August 13, 2009

I wrote this story for the Boston Globe in 2006. While I wouldn’t say that Salida is a household word, its secret is out.  So, now, I can tell the world!

SALIDA, Colo. The threats came in before I even arrived in Denver.

The historic Palace Hotel on F Street

The historic Palace Hotel on F Street

“Tell her to bury that story,” advised a colleague of the friend I was planning to visit in the Mile High City and take along on a weekend getaway 145 miles to the southwest. When I met said colleague, the first words out of his mouth, only half-jokingly, were, “I’m part of that group asking you not to write about Salida.” Wow, I hadn’t known there was an entire posse trying to keep a lid on things. Perhaps they’d missed Outside magazine’s declaration two years ago that Salida is an “American Dream Town.” So let it be known that I am not the spoiler, or at least not the only one.

It is true, though, that there are still a good number of people who have never heard of Salida (pronounced suh-LIE-duh). Even many Coloradans pass by without stopping, though the town is only a short detour from the highway. They don’t know what they’re missing.

Kayaker in white water of Arkansas River

Whitewater aficionado tests the Arkansas River right in downtown Salida

The whitewater folks, however, are in the know. In the summer, when the Arkansas River is racing, more than a dozen rafting and kayaking operators spring to life in Chaffee County. And every June, about 10,000 visitors triple Salida’s population for the Blue Paddle FIBArk Whitewater Festival (“FIBArk” stands for First in Boating on the Arkansas River). Arguably the country’s top whitewater event, the fest draws the sport’s stars, who come to race and trick out on the rushing waters. Depending on when you visit, you can experience rapids from a nothing Class I to a menacing Class V. Salida is but one of the stops along the Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area, a 148-mile linear park of riverbanks and river.

Whitewater is center stage in the city-run kayakers’ “play park,” officially the Arkansas River Whitewater Park and Greenway, where from bleachers set up for spectators you can watch those maniacs play in the rapids, roll upside-down over and over, and get water up their noses. (You can’t tell me those plugs really work.)

Friend Kelley reaches the top during a ride outside Salida

Friend Kelley rejoices at the end of her mountain climb during a ride near Salida

Luckily one doesn’t have to be a paddler to enjoy Salida’s riches. My friend and I, who get white-knuckled even thinking about whitewater, merrily eliminated going down the stream. Instead, we cycled, strolled, shopped, dined, and generally made ourselves at home in this incredibly congenial town. We discovered that the abundance of friendly folks wasn’t a show for the sake of commerce. Even the locals talk about how friendly the locals are, and many compare unpretentious Salida with snootier Colorado towns.

“In Aspen and Vail people want you to know they know everyone and have been everywhere. Here, you just know they have, but they don’t need to tell you,” said Jeff Schweitzer, who with his chef wife, Margie Sohl, owns Laughing Ladies Restaurant, arguably the best dining in town. The night we ate in the small, cheery establishment, Schweitzer toured the room several times, chatting with diners he knew, which seemed to be half the room, while passersby would wave from the sidewalk to friends inside.

Buildings in dowtown dating from the heyday in the late 19th century

Most of downtown dates to the late 1800s

Modern-day Salida plays up its appeal to tourists and relocating retirees, but back in the 1880s, the city boomed for being top post on the main line of the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad. The railroad left in 1950, but mining kept things going until the bust in the 1980s. Despite the recent influx of tourists and new residents, ranching and agriculture remain a mainstay. Signs of both worlds are charmingly evident on downtown streets, as old pickup trucks with ranch mutts barking from the back pass by SUVs sporting shiny bicycles and brightly colored kayaks on their roof racks.

The compact downtown is wonderfully down to earth, not yet having fallen victim to chain stores and developers. Virtually every building in the historic section is more than 100 years old and made of red brick, thanks to a town code that was enacted after fires in the late 1880s destroyed much of the city. We looked out for Victorian homes along side streets, and looked up inside every building we entered. Yep, we’d nod, another gorgeous tin ceiling.

Pauline Brodeur in her art gallery on 151 West 1st Street

Paulette Brodeur in her eclectic art gallery

Salida is building a reputation for its artwork as much as for its outdoor play. Monthly receptions (second Saturdays) have brought the dozen galleries together, and a large three-day art festival among the shops has been held in June for the past 14 years. We were particularly fond of Culture Clash for its mix of works from regional artisans, The Bungled Jungle for its menagerie of crazy creatures, and Brodeur Art Gallery for its amazing mix of media all from one font of creativity, Paulette Brodeur. She had a great show up called “Adventures in Salida,” or, as she put it, “what makes Salida Salida,” with contemporary impressionist paintings of cyclists, kayakers, mountains, and more. Brodeur also decorates lampshades, makes jewelry, and paints funky pet portraits. She even turned her father’s old bomber jacket and her mother’s dilapidated fringe coat into sculptures.

“When I moved here 12 years ago Salida was a ghost town,” said Brodeur, who lives a ways east in rural Cotopaxi. “There wasn’t even a coffee shop. The growth has been gradual. I think this is going to be the year. I love being here and meeting all the people. But when it tips to what I don’t like, I’m outta here.”

If this isn’t “the year” for Salida, it could be 2009, the projected time for environmental artists Christo and Jeanne Claude’s next installation. The pair have a project in the works to hang dancing fabric over eight segments of the Arkansas River, for a total of 7 miles between Canon City and Salida. It’s still in the approval process, but, if it happens, the two-week exhibit is estimated to attract some 250,000 visitors.

But, as that posse from Denver would say, don’t tell anyone.

Rock sliders take to the mountains

July 16, 2009
Both sliders and spectators enjoy Sliding Rock

Sliders and spectators enjoy Sliding Rock

We first saw Sliding Rock in December, a few years ago. The small park, located in mountainous Pisgah National Forest in North Carolina, was deserted, not surpisingly. We read signs that the rocks on this 60-foot natural waterslide were open for sliding in warmer weather, and we couldn’t imagine what that was like.

Two weeks ago, on a hot July day, we saw it in action. Yee-haw!

People patiently queuing for their slide

People wait patiently for their slide

Some 50 kids and adults were lined up alongside the rock to wait their turn to enter the slide one person or small group at a time. They sit down (required, and who would want to stand?!) and let the force of 11,000 gallons of water a minute move them down the granite slabs before depositing them into a wicked cold natural pool about seven feet deep.

These girls used a nose-pinching technique

These girls used a nose-pinching technique

It thrills and amazes me that the US Forest Service turned this natural playground into an official recreation area. It seems to have “lawsuit waiting to happen” written all over it. So hooray for them in this era when more than half the nation’s bodies of inland waters are lined with “no swimming” signs. While two lifeguards are on duty and kids can’t go unattended, it still seems pretty extreme for the park service. I’m not usually in favor of raising fees, but I think they could even justify doubling the entrance fee to the park — only $1 a person!

Group sliding down the rock

Friends who slide together stay together

Great access points overlook the action. You can’t help but laugh and smile along with all the adults and children sliding, many of them screaming with joy. We didn’t have swimsuits, but weren’t really tempted, weenies that we are. But watching was a blast. We loved when friends and families would make a train or chain and slide down together, with various stages of success.

Family plunges in cold pool

Family plunges in cold pool

The recreation area is open year-round, but the bathrooms and changing rooms are only open from Memorial Day to Labor Day, also when lifeguards are on duty. I can’t find anything close to an address. From Brevard, NC, travel northwestward on US 276 for about eight miles, or, a few miles before Forest Discovery Center at the Cradle of Forestry center (also worth a stop, but a little pricier at $5 for over 15 years, though free on Tuesday). Pisgah Ranger District can be reached at 828-877-3265.

She can’t believe it’s accessible

June 30, 2009

I share my blog today with Candy B. Harrington, a fellow member in the Society of American Travel Writers, who is an expert on accessible travel, from people using wheelchairs to slow walkers. Her slogan: Have Disability, Will Travel, and she’s giving us a Top-10 list of little-known accessible places. I haven’t met Candy, who writes from California, but for years I’ve been impressed with her work and uncompromising dedication to her topic. In the world of travel, staying uncompromised is a major feat. She recently released the third edition of her classic book “Barrier Free Travel: A Nuts And Bolts Guide For Wheelers And Slow Walkers.” From the book site, you can check out Candy’s own blog. Photos (except Lake Powell)  are by Mr. Candy, aka Charles Pannell.

Heeeeeere’s, Candy:

Candy Harrington with her favorite chicken Agnes

Candy Harrington with her favorite chicken, Agnes

During the past 16 years I’ve traveled the world in search of appropriate vacation choices for my readers. Although they have a wide range of tastes, preferences and budgets, my readers all have one thing in common; for the most part they are physically disabled — slow walkers to wheelchair-users.

Over the course of my travels I’ve seen a good number of accessible hotels, attractions, resorts, spas and even bus tours, but I’ve also discovered some unconventional accessible finds along the way. These are the things, that really made me step back and say “Wow, I can’t believe they made that accessible.” And although I keep adding to my wow list, here’s my current Top 10.

View of Yaquina Head Tidepools

Walkways lead to Yaquina Head tide pools

Yaquina Head tide pools

Located just three miles north of Newport, Ore., this Bureau of Reclamation project features barrier-free access on paved walkways down into the Quarry Cove tidepool area.

 

Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens

These gardens in Richmond, Va.,  feature a cool treehouse with ramped access to all areas. Think Swiss Family Robinson on steroids.

White Water Rafting

In Northern California, everyone can enjoy white water rafting on the American River, thanks to the folks at Environmental Traveling Companions. This San Francisco based company can accommodate wheelchair-users (even folks who use a power wheelchair) and slow walkers on their exciting white water rating trips.

Aerial view from Lake Powell (photo Wikipedia)

Lake Powell (photo Wikipedia)

Houseboating on Lake Powell

Forever Resorts  offers a wheelchair-accessible houseboat on Lake Powell, in Utah. You can rent the houseboat for a few days or a week. The accessible model features level boarding, a bathroom with a roll-in shower, an oversized master suite complete with a portable hoyer lift, elevator access to the top deck and a beach wheelchair.

C&O Canal Boat

Docked at the Great Falls Tavern, near Potomac, Md., the replica Charles F. Mercer canal boat features incline lift access to both decks and an accessible restroom on the lower deck. The canal boat is pulled along by mules and offers passengers a colorful look at 1870s canal life.

Baja Sport Fishing

Larry Cooper designed his En Caliente  sport fishing boat with access in mind. Docked in Los Barriles, Mexico, it features removable lockdowns, hoist access to the flying bridge and custom tackle designed for anglers of all abilities.

Wheelchair-accessible back country lean-tos at John Dillon Park

Accessible lean-tos at John Dillon Park

Adirondack Camping

John Dillon Park , near Tupper Lake in upstate New York, features wheelchair-accessible back country lean-tos.

African Safari

Endeavour Safaris  offers wheelchair-accessible safaris in a ramped Toyota Landcruiser, through Botswana, Namibia, Zambia, Mozambique and South Africa.

In a Cavern

Billed as America’s only ride through caverns, Fantastic Caverns  features ramped access to their tour vehicles. Just roll-on and enjoy this cool site near Springfield, Mo.

Bungy Jumping

If you want a little adventure, the folks at Taupo Bungy  in New Zealand can accommodate you. It takes very little adaptive equipment, but a whole lot of guts!

Thanks, Candy. The world of travel (and beyond) needs you and your advocacy work!