One of the most interesting — and mildly infuriating — moments of my wife and I’s recent trip to New York was our visit to the 9/11 Memorial.
First, if you haven’t been to New York, understand that there are a lot of tourists there. And it’s not just Americans. People from all over the world visit the city every day, particularly in the summer. New York, especially Times Square, is very much the proverbial melting pot it’s made out to be, and that extends to the tourists. You can be anywhere in the city and you wouldn’t be able to tell if the person next to you was from North Dakota or Germany, Long Island or Italy.
The only place where we noticed a stark difference between American and foreign tourists was the 9/11 Memorial at Ground Zero, which we visited along with thousands of others the Sunday before Labor Day.
After getting married in June, Sarah and I knew we weren’t going to be able to take a honeymoon immediately after the wedding. She didn’t have enough vacation time saved up to do anything worthwhile and the newspaper wasn’t in a place where its editor could be gone for two weeks.
So we waited and debated our options. Did we want to go big or small? Would we go tropical or touristy? I told her I was neither rich enough nor handsome enough to spend my time just sitting on a beach without a shirt. As a redhead, she has her own misgivings of spending all day in the sun, so a trip to the tropics was instantly nixed. Neither of us also didn’t want to go anywhere we had already been, which seemed like nearly everywhere.
After debating on trips to both the East and West Coasts for months, we finally decided on a five-day vacation to New York City over the Labor Day weekend. It was one place where neither of us had been and somewhere we both desperately wanted to experience. Continue reading “NYC honeymoon an unforgettable experience”
When we visit my wife’s parents in Montana, there’s nothing we like to do more than to load up her dad’s four-wheelers and head to the nearby mountains to do a little off-roading and motorized mountain climbing.
Growing up on a southwest North Dakota farm, I know a little something about isolation. But honestly, it doesn’t compare to being on a remote mountain, 25 miles from the nearest city and six miles from the nearest ranch — with the only way in or out being a rocky, five-foot wide trail — that gives one a true sense of seclusion.
This time, however, that seclusion nearly got the best of us. No, we didn’t have some sort of injury or major mishap. Just comical misfortune that delayed a wonderful day.