Unfortunately, it was a scan of a photocopy, so the quality was ghastly:

My best Photoshopping efforts produced unremarkable results, so I lost interest and shelved the project. Not finishing this for my dad before he died is one of my life’s few regrets.

Fast-forward to this past July: my uncle Walter — also deep into genealogy — asked if I could clean up a similar poor-quality photocopied will. Could we, we wondered over email, get access to these actual documents?!?

His answer was an enthusiastic “yes,” so this past week we went on an epic RV road trip to do some genealogy research. Or as my Aunt Sue calls it, “dead people stuff.”

We hadn’t made it out of the parking lot before encountering our first challenge:

The RV rental place assured us it was just a faulty sensor, so we hit the road. We drove all day into the evening (a costly wrong turn delayed us even further), but we finally arrived — hungry and tired — in Hagerstown, MD on Monday night. I’ve never been so happy to see a Walmart:

We got back on the road at 5:30am to make an 8:30 appointment in Annapolis, MD at the Maryland State Archives:

I don’t have much to compare it to, but the Maryland State Archives seems to run a pretty tight ship. All the documents Walter had requested in advance of our trip had been pulled and were waiting for us by our assigned desks. Time to dive in:

I was told before our trip that I wouldn’t be allowed to bring my tripod or use a flash, so I had serious concerns about capturing high quality document photos. The on-site lighting kit and camera mount erased all of those concerns:

See that document above?…that’s the will of Anthony Arnold, the very one I had previously only seen as a terrible photocopy.

…written in the late 1600’s.

…over 80 years before the Revolutionary War.

…and I held it in my bare hands.

…and captured it as a 24 megapixel RAW photo with my Sony mirrorless camera under perfect lighting:

That morning I photographed a dozen or so other documents for Walter’s growing genealogy dossier. This one in particular I found interesting, as it lists William Arnold — grandson of the Anthony Arnold above — as a drummer in the Revolutionary War:

Honestly, the Maryland State Archives was such a treasure trove of well-organized historical riches, we could have gone home right then and still called the trip an unmitigated success.

Before leaving the Annapolis area, we drove a few miles north to Arnold, MD. It’s just a dot on the map, and we have no idea if this town’s namesake is part of our Arnold lineage, but it was cool to see “Arnold” on a handful of local establishments.

With the hustling of making our Maryland State Archives appointment behind us, the remainder of the week would be a slower pace of visiting select cemeteries in Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Ohio.

First on our list was St. John’s Cemetery in Westminster, MD:

We were looking for William Arnold (the Revolutionary War drummer previously noted) but only found his wife, Henrietta.

In this post you’ll see more of Walter taking photos of Revolutionary War-era headstones. He’s using an app that overlays the date, time, and GPS coordinates that he’ll post to a couple public databases that track gravesite locations from that era.

Tuesday had been a full day at this point, so we headed to our camping spot in Woodbine, MD. This is one of the many private residences across the country posted on boondockerswelcome.com that generously provide free overnight parking for RV travelers:

Training session #1: Walter has taken quite an interest in the RV lifestyle, so Wednesday morning was the start of his formal training. I started him off easy with windshield duty; there would be more challenging lessons to come.

By early Wednesday afternoon we had traveled through much of Pennsylvania before stopping at Peter’s Creek Baptist Church Cemetery:

Walter replaced a weathered flag at the grave of Revolutionary War private Henry Huls. Henry is four or five generations up the family tree on our Arnold side.

Google’s suggested route to our next cemetery was incompatible with our 12′ tall RV:

…and the only other route was incompatible with our 29′ long RV. Note the gouges in the asphalt from other large vehicles scraping bottom on that steep grade — I wasn’t about to add more.

We moved on to our final cemetery for the day: Eldersville Methodist Church Cemetery in Burgettstown, PA. They got the award for the slope-iest graveyard:

There are a handful of Arnold relatives buried here, but also about 35 Revolutionary War vets that Walter documented:

After two nights of boondocking, we treated ourselves to water, sewer, and electrical hookups at Barkcamp State Park, just a few miles inside the Ohio border:

This was the scene inside the RV most nights as we planned our route for the following day:

Training session #2: Walter watched carefully as I hooked everything up the night before, so he volunteered to unhook and get us ready to roll Thursday morning. I say the man is a natural!

Our first stop on Thursday was at Somerset Cemetery in Somerset, OH. (My dad and Walter attended the nearby elementary school as kids.)

We visited the graves of Oscar and Bertha Arnold, my dad’s and Walter’s grandparents:

That afternoon we stopped at Elmwood Cemetery in Lancaster, OH to visit the grave of George Arnold. Originally from Pennsylvania, George and his wife Rachel were the first Arnolds to come to Ohio, and did so on horseback while Rachel was very pregnant. It’s important to note that George resides here without the company of his dear wife in this Catholic cemetery.

Rachel — not a Catholic — had to make other arrangements. We visited her grave, and those of her and George’s children, in a small cemetery on private property about 10 miles away (at least she got the kids):

Our next cemetery visit was going to be a challenge because we weren’t exactly sure how to get there — it was abandoned, with no roads leading to it, and we only had vague instructions from a couple locals on how to find it. Anticipating a muddy hike, we stopped at the local Walmart to gear up:

Per our cryptic instructions, we parked the RV in a small gravel parking lot and began our hike into farm country:

We came across this guy at one point. I don’t know my snakes enough to know if he was a threat, but we gave him plenty of space as we passed by:

Walking through overgrown fields for an hour made me appreciate George and Rachel’s arduous horseback trip — and life in that time in general — even more.

We came close to giving up because the terrain was getting quite difficult, and we still had no idea if we were even looking in the right area. I scampered ahead up a particularly steep ravine and was delighted to finally see headstones in a clearing:

I first thought there was just those few visible headstones, but upon surveying the surrounding area I noticed several more shrouded in the tall grass:

Walter and I spent the next hour or so stomping down the tall weeds so he could capture proper photos of each legible headstone. Interestingly, the Revolutionary War vet headstones all had new-ish flags — someone else apparently knows about this cemetery and had made a recent visit to honor these guys.

According to oral family history, Arnold ancestor and Revolutionary War vet Samuel Work is buried in this cemetery somewhere. We just don’t know where — he’s one of the many here in unmarked graves. Walter came equipped with an American flag and a bronze veteran grave marker for Samuel, which we placed near his fellow veterans.

From start to finish, this stop took about 3 hours and covered 2.5 miles through grassy fields, a stretch of woods, and one treacherous ravine. Google maps makes our route look flat. It was not. Not at all.

Our final visit for the day — and this trip — was in New Reading, OH. That brick house was once the home of W. W. Arnold, son of George and Rachel noted earlier. It’s now someone’s swanky vacation home:

At the cemetery beside the brick house, Walter documented a few more Revolutionary War vets:

That night’s stay in Pickerington Ohio was a first for me: boondocking in a Cracker Barrel parking lot. It was great. They have extra big parking spots specifically for RVs, and Walter kindly treated me to a delicious carry out Cracker Barrel dinner.

Final exam: On our way back to Indy on Friday morning we stopped at a truck stop to empty the waste tanks one last time. It was Walter’s time to shine. I’m pleased to report he passed with flying colors and is now officially “RV certified.”

The not-fun part of RVing, moving out:

We got the RV returned right on time and in the same condition as when we picked it up five days prior — that alone constitutes a successful RV trip. (Also, that’s my mom’s thumb in the upper right of this photo. Love you, mom! )

What a week! I learned a ton about my Arnold ancestors, I held and photographed rare historical artifacts, I helped find an abandoned cemetery like a little Indiana Jones, and I got to spend some serious quality time with my amazing uncle.

It was also a nice bookend to a story that started 20 years ago with that crappy photocopy. Walter and I made some notable contributions to Arnold genealogy during this trip, and I think my dad would be proud of us both.

Our hiking destination for Monday morning was Gem Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park. We got up early to beat the crowds (and because the park now requires reservations during prime visiting hours), but the parking lot was scarily small and filling up fast. We’re not towing a car this trip which means we have to take the whole rig everywhere we go, making parking a challenge. We had to bend the parking rules that morning:

The 1.7 mile trail to Gem Lake was fairly steep, but there were several places to stop along the way for a scenic overlook.

SIDE NOTE: While writing this blog entry, I happened across a photo in a previous post and was struck by how much the girls’ CamelBaks have apparently shrunk:

Gem Lake, at around 9,000 feet in elevation:

Em had some more “Timmies” interrupt her snack break. My best Google-guess, however, is that these were golden-mantled ground squirrels. Whatever they were, they were not at all bashful.

Amy, Nat, and I climbed a little higher for a better view. It was spectacular.

I suppose clear skies would have made for better photos, but the cooler temperatures made for a perfect morning hike.

After our hike we stopped at Estes Park Brewery. Carrie and I had a round of beer flights to sample all their flavors. As much as I sometimes miss having little girls, drinking beer with an adult kid is pretty great.

Our campground is named “Elk Meadow Lodge & RV Resort” apparently for good reason. Amy saw this herd of elk during an early morning run, and here they were again on the way back to our campsite.

The skies cleared up by Monday afternoon, but the temperatures stayed quite pleasant. It just felt great to be outside.

We got up at 4:45am on Tuesday morning to catch the sunrise at nearby Lily Lake.

The girls and I walked the 0.8 mile loop while Amy ran several laps.

We went off the trail for one last little climb. I could have sat there all morning inhaling the pine-scented air, but it was unfortunately time to start the long trek home.

After several miles of descending out of the mountains, the RV brakes were starting to smell. We pulled over to let them cool down.

After driving all day we landed in another random driveway, this one belonging to “Kansas Ken” outside of Topeka, KS. Ken has a meter to accurately track his visitors’ electricity usage. We racked up a 66 cent electric bill during our stay.

Wednesday was another long day of driving, and by late afternoon we were back in Indiana.

We weren’t ready to go all the way home yet so we stayed our last night at Lieber State Recreation Area about 45 minutes west of Indy. It was a lovely little park with — inexplicably — no mosquitos.

Amy set up a nice area for a Zoom call she had scheduled, but we were unfortunately in one of the few internet black holes of the trip (she was able to find WiFi closer to the ranger station).

While Amy had her call, Em and Nat listened to music in the hammock:

…while Carrie and I relaxed at the playground:

*Sigh*…dumping the tanks for the last time this morning. This might speak to how much I love RVing: I get sentimental about emptying a tank of poop.

The only thing less fun than moving into an RV is moving out of one. I didn’t get lucky with a good parking spot, so our multiple trips between the RV and the house involved a lot of walking with arms full.

We pretty much dumped everything in the house so we could turn our attention to cleaning the RV and returning it on time later that morning.

Going into this trip, I tried to manage my expectations and recognize that this would not be like our RV travels 10 years ago — our girls are older, the trip was shorter, and the RV was merely a rental. But this memory-making machine came through once again, and the experience was everything I hoped it would be.

Amy and I have caught the RV bug again, so my hope is for more of such memories to come.

—

Bonus content

Video by Natalie:

Video by Carrie:

Before leaving town 10 years ago, we enjoyed a going-away celebration at Amy’s parents’ house:

It felt fitting to recreate that weekend with them, as well as this family photo:

We sold our RV back in 2015 to fund our trip to Hawaii, so renting was the quick and easy option for this trip. Picking it up on Tuesday was the first time I had driven an RV in several years; I was relieved to find parking in our cramped downtown neighborhood for us to load up.

I had forgotten what a process loading up is. Beyond everyone’s personal effects, there’s bedding, kitchen supplies, bathroom stuff, all the food, basic tools, etc. It’s more accurate to think of loading up as “moving in.” (Thus the “home” in motorhome.)

My mom was there to see us off…

…and then we were finally on the road!

It felt so great to have all of us in an RV again. I missed this.

I did not miss this:

Within the first couple hours of our travels, I was reminded of the dubious craftsmanship that seems to plague many RVs. First this seat panel fell off:

…and then a rubber seal unraveled in the wind as we drove:

Fortunately neither impeded our progress, and we arrived at our first destination Tuesday evening: a Walmart parking lot just east of Kansas City.

What this RV lacks in craftsmanship it makes up for in sleeping accommodations. Em and Nat were thrilled to finally have their own bunk beds:

Carrie seemed happy to reclaim her spot above the cab:

Driving through Kansas would normally be unremarkable (it’s quite flat and desolate) but seeing farmland change to prairies was very exciting.

Our first actual camping spot was at Black Mesa State Park in Felt, Oklahoma, just over 1,000 miles from home.

We didn’t have full hookups here (so we had to use our water very conservatively), but we at least had electricity to run the AC. It was oppressively hot.

Fortunately it cooled off quickly after the sun went down, enough for us to take in an impromptu game of volleyball. While there were no rules or scoring, it was ultimately the mosquitos who won and drove us back inside for the night.

Fixing stuff is part of the RVing experience, so I was happy to take care of that broken seat panel later that evening:

Black Mesa State Park claims to be one of the best spots for stargazing. I’ve not confirmed this with a light pollution map, but this claim appears to have merit:

We took a short walk around the desert-like park grounds on Friday morning before moving on (and before it got too hot).

SIDE NOTE: During our previous RV travels, we never actually spent a night in Oklahoma. Amy and the girls took a day trip there, and Em and I passed through during a road trip years later, but it was not until this trip that we all finally stayed overnight in Oklahoma. With this loose end tied up, we can now say we’ve slept in all 50 states.

Our next spot was in a couple’s driveway just outside of Colorado Springs, CO. Amy found this location through a website that connects RV travelers with property owners who have space for RVs (think Airbnb, but for driveways).

It was a super cheap stay ($5/night) in a lovely neighborhood.

…and their neighbor had a horse:

The weather predicted a rainy Saturday afternoon, so we got up early that morning while the weather was nice and visited the nearby Paint Mines Interpretive Park. Amy ran the trails while the girls and I walked through these beautiful clay and sandstone hoodoos.

This place reminded us of a miniature Badlands or Bryce Canyon.

We thought it would be fun to stop at a local donut shop while we were out. “Arnold’s Coffee and Donuts” (which Em found via a Google search) was the obvious choice.

While we were there, Carrie recognized her former high school math teacher! What a small, bizarre world.

The rain came as promised Saturday afternoon, so we pretty much hung out in the RV for the rest of the day and evening.

We got up early Sunday morning to start the drive toward Estes Park, CO, stopping in Denver for some coffee. This particular coffee shop became Natalie’s favorite when she came here in 2019 for summer ballet classes.

We were well ahead of schedule, so we killed some time thrift store shopping in Boulder.

We got to Estes Park 25 minutes before our campground check-in time, so we passed more time with a picnic in a YMCA parking lot:

Finally feeling a long way from Indiana:

Our campsite is in a dusty RV park, but we’re surrounded by gorgeous mountains. We also have full hookups here, so the hot showers are flowing freely.

After settling in to our campsite, we needed to plan how we were going to spend the next 48 hours here.

The Rocky Mountain National Park visitor’s center was just a short walk from our campsite, so we got additional info from the always-helpful park rangers.

This tiny elk was the trip’s first brush with wildlife as we walked back to our campsite:

We ended the day with a rare, staged family photo:

We’ll break camp early tomorrow morning and go for our first real hike of the trip in Rocky Mountain National Park!

On Saturday, the rest of the fam went to scope out London, but Natalie and I went to the Harry Potter Warner Brothers Studio Tour. At $89 a ticket, I was grateful that Natalie is the only Harry Potter fan in the family.

After weeks of anticipation, Natalie had reached her Mecca:

One could do an entire post on this Harry Potter experience alone. To summarize, it’s a self-paced tour through the enormous collection of original sets, props and costumes from the eight Harry Potter movies made between 2001 and 2011.

We saw professors’ costumes…

The Great Hall…

A golden snitch…

Snape’s costume and classroom…

The Hogwarts Express…

The Knight Bus…

The Dursley’s house…

…and literally thousands of other artifacts during the five hours we spent there.

Of course, we had to try Butterbeer. I expected it to be gross (as butter flavored beer would be), but it’s actually just butterscotch soda. Both Nat and I liked it.

There was a section dedicated to the pre-production artifacts, which are beautiful works of art in and of themselves:

I was unable to capture in photos the grandeur of the enormous Hogwarts model used in all of the movies’ exterior shots. I don’t identify as a Harry Potter fan, but even I felt a little tinge of heartache that this was not a real place, because I longed to go there:

One last connection to the world of Harry Potter on the way out:

Bottom line: any Harry Potter fan visiting London should consider this a must-see. From the incomprehensible amount of detail that went into making the movies, to the hundreds of visitors so emotionally vested in the lives of fictional characters, it’s a profound testament to the power of a well-told story.

I don’t see myself reading any of the books (yet), but Natalie is excited to share all eight movies with me when we get home.

***

That evening, Natalie and I reunited with Amy, Carrie and Emily at the lovely London home of Rob and Margaret, friends of a professor Amy works with. (More on them in a sec.)

We would rely on public transportation while in London, so I was quite happy to turn in the keys to our rental car, having added nearly 2,000 miles to its odometer:

I appreciated the unfettered freedom to get around over the previous weeks — so no regrets — but I never really enjoyed driving in the UK. I got honked at only twice, and I didn’t kill hardly anyone, so I’m going to call that a win.

Amy and Emily scouting a subway route back to Rob and Margaret’s:

Amy and her protege Emily are two modern day Magellans. Not sure where the rest of the family would be without them. (Lost in London, that’s where.)

On our way to the train station on Sunday, Amy was called away by the siren song of a local farmer’s market. It was all good, however, as it provided one last mouthful of cream teas:

Next was Natalie’s last stop on her Harry Potter pilgrimage: Platform 9¾ at the King’s Cross train station. The actual King’s Cross is not at all how it’s portrayed in the movies or described in the books, but that didn’t stop the enterprising Harry Potter gift shop from slapping up a Platform 9¾ sign to attract customers:

We waited in line for almost an hour for Natalie to take this rather eccentric photo, to the delight of onlookers:

On Sunday afternoon we went to church. Westminster Abbey, to be specific — the coronation site of every British monarch since 1066 (among other things). It’s technically closed to tourists on Sundays, but anyone can attend services for free. You just can’t meander around or take photos.

Ok, so I snuck a photo. This place was just too cool. On my way out I noticed the tomb of Handel. I walked over Isaac Newton’s grave.

Big Ben:

We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring:

By late afternoon, the bloody nubs I once called feet needed a rest:

That evening we rode the London Eye, a large ferris wheel on the River Thames:

It was golden hour lighting-wise, perfect for a rare family selfie:

…and a nice glamour shot of London:

Monday was London day 2, which we started at the British Museum:

One of the world’s best museums + free admission = super busy:

My favorite part was seeing the gen-U-ine Rosetta stone. Thanks to this lil’ slab found in 1799, Egyptian hieroglyphics became decipherable, unlocking 4000 years of human history:

There were several mummies just begging to be unwrapped:

Quick back story: A much younger Jon and Amy once went on a college trip to Athens Greece and visited the magnificent Parthenon. I remember wondering about all of the missing sculptures (frieze) that once adorned the outer perimeter:

Found them: (“Dear London, we want our stuff back. Sincerely, Athens”)

Weariness from traversing the museum — and the UK over the previous three weeks — was setting in hard:

Natalie found the energy to visit some nearby exotic ballet stores, however:

Carrie, Natalie and I kept up with Amy and Emily for just a little while longer. We’d eventually break from the group and head home early.

That evening, we all enjoyed sitting and chatting with Margaret (Rob was away on business). We are so grateful to both of them for sharing a piece of their home and lives with us for a few days. Their generosity has made me reevaluate whether I’m doing enough for humankind.

It was time to pack for the trip home, but our net volume had expanded. Amy had a brilliant idea to MacGyver another suitcase out of grocery bags and packaging tape. (It worked!)

Our Tuesday morning cab ride to the airport:

We got the VIP treatment again thanks to Amy’s foot (which is feeling much better, by the way):

Ever since we visited the Boeing plant during our RV travels many years ago, Emily’s favorite airplane has been the Boeing 787 Dreamliner. Tuesday, she finally got to fly on one (and talk shop with the pilot afterward):

After the long flight, the girls were glad to be in Chicago where the internet flows freely. We all worked hard to stay up until a reasonable bedtime; everyone was asleep by 9pm having been up for ~22 hours.

The next morning (after a great night’s sleep) we checked out of our hotel but still had a few hours to kill before our bus’s departure time:

As luck would have it, we were able to meet up with Amy’s cousin Amanda and spend some time with her (and getting a tour of the restaurant where she works as a pastry cook):

By mid afternoon, it was time to hop on the Megabus:

…and by early evening we were back in Indianapolis:

Upon entering our house for the first time in nearly a month, the cat was assaulted with affection:

If I had some pithy wrap-up for this trip, I’d include it here. But since I don’t, I’ll end with some random things I want to remember: one-lane roads, waving, thumbs up, now leave the round-about, on-demand hot water, mint body wash, non-sliced cheese, white bread, Wheatabix, delicious tap water, Sussingtonshirefordton, cheers, afternoon tea, clotted cream, L for learner, pub food, rock walls, higgledy-piggledy, a bit dodgy, clotheslines.

Scotland seems to obsess over their recycling, so much so that they only collect trash once a month. There are four different ways to sort rubbish and I don’t feel like we ever got the hang of what goes where.

One quirky nearby attraction was the Falkirk Wheel, a one-of-a-kind contraption that lifts and lowers boats from one canal to another (as a lock would otherwise do). It truly is a feat of engineering, but I can’t say the boat ride to experience this wheel was worth the time or money.

I happened to notice on the map that Doune Castle — a prominent location used in Monty Python and the Holy Grail — was just 20 minutes up the road from Falkirk. Everyone else was castled out, but Natalie was game for a quick road trip:

Those that know their Holy Grail will recognize these scenes shot at Doune Castle:

The original plan was to just snap a photo of the outside, but once we were there I couldn’t resist buying tickets to see inside:

On Monday we took an all-day road trip to Edinburgh, the residence of author JK Rowling when she started writing the Harry Potter books. This day also happened to be the 20th anniversary of the first Harry Potter book. Natalie, a well-read 13-year-old, has concluded that Harry Potter is the best story ever in the whole wide world.

We walked past George Heriot’s School which served as Rowling’s inspiration for Hogwarts:

We then strolled through Greyfriars Kirkyard cemetery where Rowling supposedly found inspiration for character names. To the left is the gravestone of 19th century gent Thomas Riddell, which (spoiler alert) was Voldemort’s name before becoming a baddy:

Rowling was known to do much of her Harry Potter writing at a few local coffee shops, such as this one:

…and this one:

Spoon was much less crowded, so we stopped there for afternoon tea:

Our waitress directed Natalie to the corner where Rowling liked to write. What fantastic wizardly shenanigans were conjured up at this very spot:

Down the street, we found Rowling’s handprints among other distinguished citizens of Edinburgh. (Annie Lenox of Eurythmics fame was the only other name I recognized.)

Sort of random, but we happened upon the National Museum of Scotland which was touting the stuffed remains of Dolly, the first cloned sheep. Entrance was free, so why not?

While the main objective of this visit was Harry Potter-spotting, we enjoyed walking around this very old, very cool city:

Back in Falkirk, we finished off the evening with Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix:

On Monday we set out for one final castle visit, this time to Alnwick Castle. Built in 1096, the castle is still used by Ralph Percy, the 12th Duke of Northumberland and his family as a winter residence. I wasn’t allowed to take photos inside, but suffice it to say, the Percy family lives the life. This castle was also used in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Downton Abbey, and the first two Harry Potter movies among many others:

They had a few activities going on for visitors. Natalie is crazy good at archery in virtual reality, so it was fun to see her try it for realz (she did very well):

On Tuesday afternoon we reached York, and found our inn above a local pub:

The check-in process was simply notifying the bartender:

It was more no-frills but perfectly adequate accommodations:

The pub below our rooms didn’t serve food, so we walked to another pub that did. It wasn’t fine dining, but it was super tasty, piping-hot comfort food:

On Wednesday we took the bus into central York:

It rained all day:

We found some relief from the rain in the Yorkshire Museum, exhibiting archaeological finds from when the Romans and Vikings were living here:

We also ducked into York Minster, the local cathedral, but just long enough to snap a few photos (we didn’t want to pay the visiting fee):

We otherwise spent the day walking around York in the rain:

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner:

On Thursday we reached Cambridge and checked into our hostel:

I had imagined hostels as bunk beds of stained mattresses in a dimly lit basement, so this place exceeded my expectations. It was clean and bright dorm-style accommodations, dorm smell and all:

We spent that afternoon walking around Cambridge:

The colleges were a-buzz with graduating students and proud parents, so it was fun to see that activity:

University of Cambridge is a collection of colleges dating back to 1209. This is Kings College, one of those colleges, and was founded by Henry VI in 1441:

Stopping for dinner in Cambridge. My favorite part of this was hearing the waitress use the word(s) “higgledy-piggledy” in a sentence describing the confusing British street layouts.

On Friday morning we hit the road and by that afternoon had reached our destination of St. Albans. These accommodations would be the most exotic so far: a regular hotel built in this decade:

Tomorrow, Amy, Carrie and Emily will perform reconnaissance for our descent upon London while Natalie and I check out the Harry Potter Tour of Warner Brothers Studio. (She is about to burst with excitement.)

Regardless of assembly, they are delicious and were an instant favorite of mine (Amy was indifferent). Cream tea and I shall meet again.

A brief stop in the Cotswolds for a picnic lunch:

We reached our farm destination in Clun Valley on Friday afternoon and were ready to begin our “wwoofing” experience. That’s not a typo; it stands for World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms (google it for more info).

We were far away from any main roads; this was very, very rural England.

The farmer (Trevor) was away until morning, but had provided instructions on where we’d be staying. Our “room” was a building typically used for farming workshops held on the property throughout the year. It felt like we were at summer camp. I liked it.

Once the girls found the farm cats and kittens, they liked it too.

With neither internet nor work assignments, we had nothing to do except sit on our front steps and listen to the bleating sheep dotting the rolling country side. The girls played with the cats. Occasionally we’d talk about something unimportant. It was one of my favorite moments of this trip.

The next day we got to work. My main project of our stay was replacing the brakes and taillights of the farmer’s trailer. It felt good to get my delicate computer hands dirty.

Amy and the girls kept the chickens and pigs fed, but their main project was sanding, staining and polyurethaning the railings of the building we were staying in. They did a great job, even with the uncommonly hot daytime temperatures.

There was a constant presence of near-lethal amounts of cuteness:

These cats were thin and hungry, so feeding them became a common occurrence:

As was seeing a hopeful, furry face camped outside our door:

I walked by these cows dozens of times over the course of our 4-day stay, and each time they’d stop chewing and we’d look deeply into one another’s eyes:

And then there was this guy. He rides along with farmer Trevor in the mornings while checking on the field animals, but spends the rest of most days cooped up in the barn.

But at 5:00 am on Wednesday morning, we got to see him go to work. This dog is pretty excitable, so Trevor puts a muzzle on him and binds one front leg before letting him round up the sheep. It was unexpected how fast a 3-legged dog could run.

The plan was simple: Trevor and the dog would drive the sheep herd out of one field while we would divert them into another. Neither the sheep nor Natalie were comfortable with this plan:

It worked!

With the sheep successfully re-fielded, we were ready to hang up our rubber wellies and move on to our next destination. We are grateful to farmers Trevor (right) and his son Paul for having us at their farm.

Our destination for the day was the Lake District. On the way, we strayed into Wales a couple times. The mashed-keyboard looking language is Welsh:

We made a mid-day stop in Liverpool:

We didn’t do much there; just walked around a little bit and visited one stretch of sorta-touristy shops:

It’s a big city, so there is quite a lot to do in Liverpool especially if you’re a Beatles fan. We did the bare (free) minimum and continued on:

Our Airbnb was located in an obscure rural town called Wigton.

Our place was a mid-19th century workshop that had been nicely converted into a lovely guesthouse.

Carrie made a friend:

The next morning we did some “car hiking” — that is, we mostly drove from place to place and stopped to take short walks. We spent the first part of the day in Newlands Valley and the surrounding areas:

Even a short walk in the grass soaked my feet. I was wishing I hadn’t left my wellies at the farm.

This was very much the England we were expecting: overcast, damp,…

…windy and chilly.

More great scenery:

Settle a bet: I feel like this roadside sheep was thinking a friendly “Hello,” but Carrie feels it was more of a “Really?”

I’m fascinated by all of the stone walls in England. The amount of work that surely went into them is staggering.

After lunch we made our way to the town of Keswick and walked around the local shops:

Stopping for afternoon tea and coffee. (I tried a cream tea but was disappointed.)

Turns out England is littered with ancient stone formations, such as the nearby Castlerigg Stone Circle. It offers all of the mystical powers of Stonehenge but at a more convenient location:

Natalie soaking up the woowoo:

Over yonder:

That evening I completed a special screening of the 1975 British cinematic masterpiece Monty Python and the Holy Grail for my family. Only Natalie made it to the end.

On Friday morning, we did cream teas properly:

Our first stop on Friday was Carlisle Castle, a 900-year-old castle that has had a pretty rough go of it for most of those years:

The interior had a vaguely foul smell that didn’t bother me. It added an anxiousness to the experience that I imagine being part of every day medieval life.

After lunch was a visit to Lanercost Priory in Cumbria:

These are the ruins obviously, but attached is a fully roofed section still in use by an Anglican church. There have been regular church services here for the last 850 years.

The main draw of this area however is Hadrian’s Wall, a 73 mile long stone wall built by the Romans in 122AD as a defensive fortification:

My favorite movie in 1991 was the critically panned Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, and this scene with Kevin Coster and Morgan Freeman was filmed at Hadrian’s Wall:

Natalie and I braved the rain and made the 1-mile hike to Sycamore Gap, the location where that scene was filmed. It made me want to see the movie again.

By mid afternoon, we had crossed over into Scotland:

Back in Indy, we live in a neighborhood called Lockerbie, so we thought it would be fun to see the original:

By Friday night we had arrived at our latest Airbnb, this time an apartment. It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but it is surprisingly nice inside:

We grabbed a traditional UK dinner:

…and settled in for a movie: Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves

Amy, Carrie and Emily took a train to Glasgow Saturday afternoon while Natalie and I stayed back at the apartment (I needed to catch up on some work stuffs). I’ve requested a mini blog post covering their day in Glasgow.

We started on Sunday with a bus trip from Indy to Chicago…

…and then a subway from downtown Chicago…

…to Chicago O’Hare International Airport:

So, about Amy: she broke her foot 3 days prior to our departure. This turned out to be the best travel hack ever, however, as we were whisked past the commoners through security and got to board our plane early. If you ever want the VIP treatment at the airport, just show up with a cast and crutches. (If you need to stay honest, go ahead and break your foot).

Everyone was very excited about flying on a 747, so I didn’t have the heart to tell them this heavy beast would never fly:

But fly it did, and 6 hours later we were looking over the cheery, sun-soaked city of London:

So…how hard could driving in the UK be?

Turns out it’s really hard to undo three decades of American driving experience, but each day is getting better. What at first felt overtly suicidal has settled into a manageable discomfort.

Most of us had gotten only a couple hours of sleep on the plane, but it was morning in London — we still had the whole day ahead of us. Our first stop of the trip was in the town of Oxford:

After Oxford we visited the infamous Stonehenge. It was a strange mixture of awe (seeing something so iconic) and humor (thinking of the Stonehenge scene from Spinal Tap.)

At the end of the day we made our way to our first Air B&B in Tedburn St. Mary where we’d spend the next 3 nights.

Tedburn St. Mary is pretty small town; this is the main strip:

But there are two pubs and a little grocery store where we scrounged up enough food for dinner that evening:

The next morning, Amy and I went to a larger grocery store to stock up on food for the next few days:

I thought I’d try a little local breakfast fare. PSA #1: If you try Weetabix, go easy on the milk else it will turn into a soupy mess.

The next day we set out on a driving tour of Dartmoor National Park. This was a random break in the hedgerow along the road where we could admire the rolling English countryside.

About the roads of Dartmoor…

*ahem*

Many of these roads are only the width of one small car, yet they are two-way. And the speed limit is 60 mph. There’s an ever-so-slight bulge in the road every 1/8th mile or so to allow cars traveling in opposite directions to negotiate a pass. So when on-coming vehicles encounter one another, the drivers have to figure out who should back up to the nearest bulge in the road.

Me backing up to the nearest bulge in the road:

We eventually came upon the town of Chagford and stopped to take a look around:

We stopped at the local hardware store hoping to find suitable “wellies” (short for Wellington brand rubber boots) for our up-coming volunteer gig at an organic farm.

I was enamored by this old creepy graveyard but have since realized all of the graveyards in England are old and creepy. Every one.

The sheep of Dartmoor just don’t care:

The distinctive landmarks of Dartmoor are its tors. These piles of boulders that emerge from the otherwise smooth landscape served as the inspiration for the Sherlock Holmes story The Hounds of Baskerville.

They are also fun to climb on:

Even for the hobbled among us:

The next day we set out to see some castles of Cornwall:

This was also the first we’d seen the ocean on this trip. I keep forgetting England is just a big island.

Tintagel Castle was built in the 13th century and is where legend says King Arthur was conceived (eww). Time has not been kind to this castle…

…but it was a great spot for lunch overlooking the ocean:

Also in Cornwall was Launceston Castle built in the 12th century:

The top provided a really nice view of the surrounding town of Launceston:

I was hoping we’d see castles that were a little more intact, but these fixer-uppers were still very cool.

Our Air B&B accommodations in Tedburn St. Mary were quite simple: just a guest bedroom in an otherwise occupied house, with a mini fridge and microwave in the closet. The family was super nice, and I enjoyed hearing the chatter of local family life (homework and bedtime routines, grocery deliveries, morning school pick-up, etc.)

A nearby house sporting a thatched roof — not an uncommon sight ’round ‘ere:

After leaving Tedburn St. Mary on Thursday morning, we made a stop at Exeter University. My girls were hoping to get authentic sweatshirts, but they found the apparel selection in the campus bookstore to be a bit underwhelming.

Amy and I like our coffee in the morning, but I’ve had to accept that half-n-half is not something they put in coffee here. We get weird looks when we ask, and the answer has so far been “sorry, we don’t have cream — just milk.”

Meat pie for lunch:

A farmers market in downtown Exeter, so Amy was happy!

A recommendation we’ve consistently received has been to visit the town of Bath, so that’s where we headed on Thursday afternoon. We got there later than we wanted (parking was a nightmare), but were able to catch the tail end of the last walking tour of the day:

Bath is a charming town steeped in history, and I enjoyed spending the afternoon there. But honestly, all of the towns we’ve stopped at or driven through so far feel right out of the middle ages.

That evening we landed at our second Air B&B, this time in Bristol:

And this time with a full kitchen, and the whole place to ourselves:

It was really nice to enjoy a home-cooked meal at a real table:

Tomorrow we head deep into rural England for several days to volunteer on a farm in exchange for food and lodging. Details to follow…

The weather in Hawaii continues to beguile me, most recently with episodes of simultaneous rain and sunshine. But I suppose it’s the healthy doses of both that make it so lush here.

We started our final week in Hawaii with the much-anticipated helicopter ride over Kauai on Monday morning. (My mom was insistent that we experience this, so she foot the bill for it — thanks mom!)

It wasn’t a sunny day like we had hoped for, but it was impossible to be disappointed with the view. The rain created innumerable waterfalls to behold, and flying in and out of the clouds was pretty thrilling. (A clear day was a tall order for the middle of Kauai, as this gets the most rainfall of any spot on Earth.)

The sun shown through a few times once we reached the outer edge of the island:

The Na Pali coast was one of my favorite sights. There are no roads along this rugged 16 mile coastline:

Secluded beaches are accessible only by boat or an extremely rigorous hike:

I’m not a timid flyer, but I’m always pleasantly surprised whenever I survive a flight. This was an amazing experience, but I was fine with being back on stable ground:

We took Monday afternoon pretty easy at a beach in Po’ipu:

Carrie and I couldn’t bring ourselves to put on sunscreen again, so we just found a place to sit in the shade:

This was a public beach, but the seals apparently make themselves at home here (the lifeguard had to holler at the people every now and then to not get too close to this seal):

A brief word on the chickens of Kauai: they are everywhere. Parks. Parking lots. Yards. Sides of roads. But the people don’t mind them — not because they are good to eat (I hear they taste terrible) but because they eat a lot of roaches and centipedes:

On Tuesday we drove to Waimea Canyon State Park, which is sometimes called the “Grand Canyon of the Pacific” (we had flown over this during our helicopter ride):

Despite early 20th century efforts to snuff it out, Hawaiian culture and language have experienced a renaissance in the last few decades among many native Hawaiians. This person, as just one example, did not consider himself a US citizen but rather a subject of the former Kingdom of Hawaii:

Despite the low-hanging clouds, the canyon overlook was a great place to squat for lunch. Or at least the start of lunch — it rained shortly after I took this photo:

Seeking shelter from the rain in the small Waimea Canyon museum, I found my new calling: Feral Pig Hunter. Apparently pigs cause all kinds of ecological problems for Hawaii, and hunting them (with the goal of complete eradication) is encouraged. Hang in there, Hawaii….help is on the way.

Wednesday would turn out to be one of our biggest endurance tests: an 8-mile hike on the aforementioned Na Pali Coast to Hanakapi’ai Falls. This is the furthest you can hike on the coast without a permit.

Our progress slowed to a crawl at times as we walked carefully, trying to keep our shoes reasonably clean on a very muddy trail:

Eventually, however, I had to let go and accept my destiny:

Some encouraging signs along the trail:

We came upon a cluster of bamboo trees, which made a very strange and erie knocking sound as the wind blew:

As the hike continued, we traversed slippery rocks over steep ledges:

…thick jungle-like foliage:

…and several deep river crossings:

…but at the end of the trail was a very cool 120 foot waterfall:

Actually, a very cold 120 foot waterfall — Natalie and I jumped in. It took my breath away, but it was quite invigorating after the challenging hike there:

On the hike back, I was a little more intentional about looking up from the muddy trail to take in the beautiful scenery:

Emily has been nursing an eye stye all week. I was impressed with her hands-free warm compress:

We took things pretty easy on Thursday. Amy heard about a secret spot near our resort where sea turtles where known to hang out, so she and I made a little side-hike that afternoon to check it out:

It was a steep descent to the beach, so these ropes that someone had put up came in very handy:

We never saw any turtles, but we found a very cool secluded cave and enjoyed a nice swim:

That evening we had dinner at a local Hawaiian tapas restaurant:

…and afterward perused some of the local shops, like this ukulele-centric store: (Only in Hawaii…)

By Friday morning, we were back at the airport so my mom could return to Indianapolis, and we could move on to the island of Oahu.

Our first stop in Oahu on Friday afternoon was at the University of Hawaii bookstore in Honolulu. My girls like college-wear, so it was a perfect place to acquire some wearable souvenirs:

We had some time to kill before we could check in to our Airbnb house, so we did a short hike at the nearby Diamond Head State Monument:

Diamond Head is a 150,000 year old volcanic crater. The trail started in the flattish, desert-like center:

…but quickly ascended as we reached the outer edge, with a mixture of open trail, cement bunker-like structures and tunnels (it was a military base in the early 1900’s):

At the top of the outer edge, looking back into the crater:

Looking out over the crater edge at downtown Honolulu:

Afterward — acting on a tip from our airport shuttle bus driver — we rewarded ourselves with a trip to Shimazu Store, a popular neighborhood source of shockingly delicious shaved ice (we learned later it is deceivingly easy to overeat on sugar-flavored frozen water):

This remuddled Airbnb house on Oahu wouldn’t fit anyone’s definition of “nice,” especially after living the swanky timeshare resort lifestyle for the past two weeks:

But it was good enough, and if anything, it incentivized us to be out making the most of our dwindling time in Hawaii — and it maybe made me a tiny bit ready to go home. (Here is Natalie putting this place’s first pin over Indiana.)

Amenities included cute critters:

…and not-so-cute critters: (To be fair, I understand cockroaches are abundant in Hawaii, and Oahu doesn’t have Kauai’s chickens to gobble them up.)

That night we drove to Pu’u ‘Ualaka’a State Wayside to watch the sun set. It was a fantastic view of both downtown Honolulu and Diamond Head crater that we had hiked earlier:

Here’s a fun fact Amy learned while chatting up a tour guide standing nearby: Diamond Head’s original Hawaiian name is Le’ahi — a mashup of “lea” which means promontory or point of high land, and “ahi” which means tuna, as the crater from this perspective resembles a tuna’s dorsal fin:

Saturday morning was set aside for Pearl Harbor. All of the reserved tickets for this day had been doled out several days prior, so we had to show up early to try to get some of the first-come-first-serve tickets. By 6:50 am, a long line was already forming:

We got in no problem and started our visit at 7:30am. Here we are on the ferry that takes visitors to the site of the sunken USS Arizona. Narrating was a native Hawaiian who, as an 11 year old boy, witnessed the attack on Pearl Harbor:

Unfortunately, this was as close as we’d get to the Arizona, as the visitor platform that straddles the sunken ship was undergoing repairs:

With the self-paced audio tour, we took our time over the next couple hours learning about that morning of December 7, 1941 and letting it all sink in (that terrible pun is not intended — it’s just the best way to express the weightiness of it all):

A couple of artifacts in particular stuck out to me: an almost fully intact Japanese torpedo found at the bottom of Pearl Harbor in 1991 (!):

…and an initial draft of FDR’s famous “infamy” speech. Note the handwritten annotations, particularly “world history” being punched up with the more impactful “infamy”:

It was a heavy morning, but visiting Pearl Harbor was undoubtedly a highlight of this trip.

By late morning we had made our way to Waikiki beach for a picnic lunch, after which the girls started their eagerly anticipated surfing lesson. They started with some basic stances in the sand for about 10 minutes:

…and then got right to it, enjoying an hour and 50 minutes riding the waves: (Photo credit: hhsurf.com)

Each daughter expressed having a rad time shredding the sick swells:

We spent the remainder of the afternoon resting on Waikiki beach (or in my case, under a nearby tree — I’m so done with sun screen!):

…and enjoyed some live music and hula dancing:

…before the sun metaphorically set on our Hawaiian vacation:

“Not so fast,” said Amy. We had several hours before our flight on Sunday morning, so we had time for a hike at Manoa Falls:

To commemorate that we were all here, Amy wanted a rare photo of the five of us together. This picture is blurry because Natalie smacked a mosquito on the back of my head right as I snapped this photo:

As a final stop on the way to the airport, we visited the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, also known as the Punchbowl as it’s located in the Punchbowl Crater in Honolulu. It was also a time to pause and take in one last view of Hawaiian scenery:

Total side note: we noticed these creatures soon after arriving in Hawaii almost three weeks ago and started jokingly calling them marmosets, not knowing at the time what they or marmosets actually were. I’ve since learned that this is a mongoose, but in my heart — and in total defiance of established animal taxonomy — it shall forever be a marmoset:

At 4pm on Sunday afternoon, we started our long trip home:

A jet-lagged layover in Atlanta nine hours later:

The wrap-up of every trip is always a mix of emotions (sad for it to end, glad to be home, etc.), and this “50th state” milestone is certainly no exception. Over the past five years we’ve traveled long and far, and that is immensely satisfying.

What is simply wonderful is how much remains to be seen.

I was initially disappointed with the cloud cover that completely obscured what was supposed to be a magnificent view:

…but once we descended below the clouds, the view improved:

Did you notice the “25% grade” road sign in the first photo? It was over a half mile of this to get down to the beach (and pure torture coming back up):

Along the way, the girls met a friendly wild colt (this was one of a few horses milling around in the middle of the road):

The road eventually turned into a trail that led to beachfront with lots of trees — providing a bit of a wind break for our lunch stop:

This was supposed to be a fairly substantial hike (~6.5 miles), but it was cut short by an impasse where the river let out into the ocean. The water turned out to be too deep and the current too strong. (Amy got knocked down by a wave!)

We didn’t give up easily — we spent about 15 minutes trying to find another way across, which was enough time for the clouds to disperse:

On the way back up the hill, we found a wrecked truck. Someone had a very bad day on a 25% grade road:

We see unique, handmade “drive slow” signs like this everywhere, which tells what the local Hawaiians think about typical tourist driving patterns. (Note the waterfall in the background.)

On Wednesday we went to Pu’uhonua o Honaunau National Historical Park, a preserve illustrating Hawaiian traditions between 1550-1819. Pu’uhonua means “place of refuge” where native hooligans could go for asylum if they could outrun the vigilantes:

It seems like there are lava patches everywhere on this island, and it boggles my mind to stand on rock that was once oozing lava:

This doesn’t look like much, but it’s called Two Step (because it’s kinda like two big stair steps that lead into the water). This is where we snorkeled on Tuesday afternoon. It was awesome. Like, National-Geographic-exotic-fish-and-coral awesome. I have no other pictures because I was busy snorkeling.

Since Kona is on the West side of the Big Island, it was easy to take in the obligatory sunset:

As I mentioned above, the lava fields on this island are fascinating, especially seeing the different ages. There’s fresh-from-earth’s-bowels all the way to nearly-reclaimed-by-nature, and it makes it quite easy to imagine how this entire island came to be.

On Thursday, we wanted to do another beach day. But a beach that any sucker can simply drive to would not do, so we chose the Makalawena Beach at the end of a mile-long trek through a lava field wasteland:

This poor goat-shaped person should have opted for the closer beach:

It was blazing hot, but before long, appearing over the sandy hills at the end of the trail…

…was our big payoff. This was the idyllic, postcard Hawaii beach that I was hoping we’d see at some point:

Amy and the girls enjoyed relaxing on the sand. I took a nap under a tree.

On Friday, it was time to move on from the big island of Hawaii:

After a short layover in Maui, we landed on the island of Kauai:

This is our home for the week, another timeshare condo courtesy of my mother — who flew in from Indy to join us for our week in Kauai!

Without thinking, I agreed to a “free” breakfast at the resort’s clubhouse on Saturday morning. But the cost was having to sit through an insufferable presentation on how to cram your week full of exhausting activities while bleeding money into the local economy. (They may have used different words.)

A nice view from a scenic overlook while driving around on Saturday morning:

You guessed it — farmer’s market:

Just like with farmer’s markets, Amy loves her fresh seafood. We picked up some ono, “sweet, very good to eat” fish for grilling later that evening:

We made a final stop for the day at the Kilauea Point National Wildlife Refuge. It was a good spot to watch some of the local seabirds, as many different kinds call this site home:

It was a source of both lovely ocean scenery…

…and junior high caliber jokes:

The free Mai Tai’s (and to a lesser extent, the live music and hula dancer) at the resort that evening made up for the activities presentation earlier that morning. All was forgiven.

We originally planned to do an epic 8-mile hike on Sunday, but the morning got away from us. We moved on to plan B — SUP (Stand Up Paddle) boarding:

SUP boarding is just what it sounds like: you stand (or sit, or kneel) on a surfboard-ish thing and paddle through the water. Amy and I had done this before, but it was new for the girls. They took to it instantly, and we paddled nearly 4 miles over 2 hours. (Side note about the weather: it cycled through sunny, cloudy and rain about a half dozen times over those two hours. I guess this is just how the weather rolls ’round here.)

I’ve enjoyed seeing these red-crested Brazilian cardinals flying around (and this one enjoyed the bread crumbs from my lunch):

Tomorrow should be pretty fun: we’re starting the week with a morning helicopter ride over Kauai. I’m hoping it won’t be a rainy hour.