I've visited the Grand Canyon in Arizona several times. Each visit, I find myself standing at a different overlook, quietly taking in its immense scale, endless layers of rock, and impossible depth. No matter how many times I see it, it still leaves me in awe. So, when I started researching places to visit along our route from Richmond, Virginia, to Syracuse, New York, one destination immediately caught my attention: Pennsylvania's Grand Canyon. Although its official name is Pine Creek Gorge, most people know it as the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon. I questioned how it could possibly compare …
Real Home Sense
Real Life, Roaming Homes, Good Sense
Main Content
To feel truly alive be less comfortable.
Travel with Me
The Best Caves I’ve Explored – So Far!
I stood among the trees admiring how the rocks sparkled in the sun. Another treasure for my collection. I carefully picked my way across the mine tailings, searching for fool's gold, quartz, and mica. Then I'd gather them up and pretend I was the King in his counting house. If you've never spent time around old mines, you may not know that tailings are the piles of rock left behind after miners extracted the valuable ore. There are countless abandoned mines scattered throughout the Canadian Shield, and exploring them became part of our family vacations when I was growing up in …
Traveling Inward
Reflections on Compassion, Discernment, and Protecting What's Good I love to experience new things. Whether it’s a new country, park, city, food, or experience, the novelty feeds me. I am an explorer at heart, and that exploration doesn’t stop at the physical world. I tend to explore my inner world too. The brain is another muscle, and experiences are exercises that expand the big muscle between our ears. Understanding different cultures and viewpoints is just what I do. I could blame the behaviorist in me, but it started long before college. My inward travels started before I ever …
At the Crossroads of Gettysburg
How a final stop at Gettysburg National Military Park on my summer road trip became a journey through history, perspective, and understanding. The sound of cicadas filled the warm summer air as I stepped out of the truck. A gentle breeze stirred the grass, carrying the earthy scent of sun-warmed fields. In the distance, birds called from the trees lining the ridge. It felt like any other peaceful countryside. Except for the monuments. Stone memorials rose majestically from the fields, standing silent watch over the landscape. Their presence left no doubt that something important …
The Long Way Home from New England
By the time I left Bangor, I had abandoned my original plan of taking a couple of weeks to slowly make my way back to Richmond. Between working on the road, driving, planning, and living in the camper, I was tired. I was ready to go home. I stayed on Interstate 95 until Lewiston, Maine. Then I did what I often do. I ignored my RV GPS. The freeway would have been the sensible choice. But after weeks of wandering New England's small towns, coastlines, and backroads, I wasn't quite ready to spend my days staring at tractor trailers and exit signs. My Garmin was programmed with …
