Tim Eagle

 

An icy world / Wildlife & Writing/ A video for all of YOU / RV Travel Blog / RV Travel VLOG

The icy mornings slowly melted away, turning into beautiful days. We walked to a county park, as seen in our video below. The sandy ground, the blue sky, the variations of wild palms growing on either side was an enticing walk. The white path we were on signaled that there had to be water ahead, and boy were we surprised when we arrived at the end. Watch the video and be blown away by the sounds, the sites, some narration by me, and how beautiful solitude can sometimes be. Thanks for stopping by, and thanks for watching! https://youtu.be/nywtH7JUIlQ

Race with the Devil / Price Gouging / Satanic Cults? / RV Blog / RV Travel Life

We've been packing, we've been diligently picking off our "to-do" lists, and we are about ready. We never feel extremely prepared for a trip for the winter, probably because this is only our second year, and like every bird we get better prepared each time. I was shopping today, getting enough to freeze and to have for a long trip so that we can avoid shopping every couple days. The only place with this trip we really want to, but don't want to stop, are gas stations. Gas stations hurt, the pocket book, but that comes with the territory of having our house on wheels and the traveling adventure.

With that being said we will avoid prices like the price featured in the picture below, and we will be smart with the stops we have to make. There is a place in the Blue Ridge Mountains that we want to stop, it was rumored that, in the '80's, there were Satanic groups and ceremonies taking place in a certain locale. I don't believe that a bit, but will at least make an attempt to get there. The whole scene reminds me of that movie "Race with the Devil" starring Peter Fonda from 1975. I can't wait to find a nearby campground, hopefully not filled with a satanic cult and fantasize about the horror that may or may not be.

We do have one more stop on our wish list, but I won't go into great detail with this one. I think both places I have on our list of "to-see" will add to the adventure and be less prone to attract crowds, so I think we'll enjoy the ambience, or lack thereof. It may be a few days that I write, so be patient with me, hopefully we haven't been tormented and chased after as a sacrifice, I'm sure if that is the case, I'll get some footage or great pictures to share.  Have a safe and happy holiday. We will see YOU, and write to YOU, soon!

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The Path of Travel / RV Blog / RV Life

Whether it is a small weekend trip, a jaunt through the thumb of Michigan, travel never ceases to stir something inside Maria and me. Packing, ensuring everything that can be packed is stuffed into the Mothership, is a team effort between us. Maria makes lists for shopping, packs the bags, and I load them into the motorhome prior to lift off. Now this year, as we prepare to be snow birds, once again, things are a little off. We're leaving earlier. Holidays have changed. Our adult children are making their own decisions that we concur with, to stay hunkered down at their own residences and we ours. It's a little uncanny, a little less traditional, yes. Not to mention a little sad, because we love to see our adult children and love their visits with us. We're not paranoid, but all of us want to be as safe as we can be to help each other. That's the way we've always been as a family.

Thank goodness for video chatting, which we will be sure to do.

Travel, though, is different this time with Covid-19 an ever present topic of conversation. So we have been preparing throughout the summer. We've been stocking up on those things that people like to horde in times like these. We're different, we didn't wait until the month of November and do it all at once. We have plenty of toilet paper, FACE MASKS (so that we're not spreading our own germs), plenty of bottled water, and plenty of hand sanitizer, anti-bacterial wipes, etc. We also have a plan. We won't be stopping by super spreader events, or places that are packed with people. The campgrounds we do find and make a decision to stop at we will pay over the phone, or at a website to avoid contact. When we camp we will be using our own shower, our own bed, preparing our own food. We will not walk around to socialize with people, and this, my friends, is not like us! We love people's stories, but this year are pressing the pause button. 

We will still sight see, I have a small itinerary for our trip, so we will not let any of you down on our youtube channel, if you haven't subscribed to yet, you should. We will visit places that are a little less traditional, so all our subscribers can look forward to that!  Know that we're thinking of all of you in these weird times, that we are continuing to travel with safety first and foremost, and that I will still attempt my hand at entertaining all of you at Dark Nest Travels!

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Monster on the Sidelines / Inspired / Preparation

I'm inspired as I count down the days before we leave the great state of Michigan and head toward warmer climates. The temperatures have been dropping, and I've heard through the grapevine that the temps in November are supposed to be a chilly conundrum. For the sake of my family and friends I hope not. I've got a lot of prep to do, a lot of transition to accomplish as we prepare Dark Nest, as we get organized and ready for our upcoming "Snow-Bird" trip. There is a certain mental preparation for the upcoming trip south. I have vaguely mapped out a route we plan on taking, but I don't want to elaborate due to our youtube channel, Dark Nest Travels, and don't want to spoil future videos.

I will say that Maria and I will not miss the chilly arms of winter which awaits like a monster on the sidelines. The month of October brings out the monsters, but not quite like the monster that winter is. October brings us colors, partially bare trees, the beginning of a crunchy forest floor, and the smell of autumn. I love the scents, warm coffee smells different, the scent of fallen apples rotting into the ground, the scent of a last cut on the yard are all nostalgic. The winding down of yet another summer and the life we've created in these weird, uncertain times is coming to fruition. Going south this year, this winter, is questionable to some, but we don't refrain from going. I would rather be isolated, staring at the sunny days, palm trees, and birds of the south, than to stare at the gray sky, and brown grass out the windows of our Nest. It sounds so much better, doesn't it?

When we arrive to our destination in Florida, and after a long journey on in the RV, a new life awaits us. I plan on writing more, be sure to check some of those out here and at Tim Eagle's Portal , and getting into a healthier routine with my daily life, i.e. eating better, loosing weight and focusing on more writing, it's in me to give to all of you, so I must create and give. I hope time don't slip through my fingertips and that I can follow through with my goals going forward.  Thanks for stopping by this time around, and thanks so much for reading a blog, I know it's been awhile. Stay tuned to our videos here: Dark Nest Travels and come back as often as you can when I stop procrastinating and write to you. I'm going to leave one of my favorite Airstream pictures that I think displays autumn the way it should be viewed. Enjoy!

Ghosts, Minnie Quay, Ora Labora

It was a sunny spring morning and we were taking off on an adventure to a couple “haunted” cemeteries. The first stop was the breezy shores of Lake Huron to swing by Minnie Quay’s pink tombstone in Forester. We were in for a surprise because of all the coins on top of the grave and some of the disrespectful litter strewn about. I walked around filming some of the headstones and realized, off in the distance I heard a whispering beckon it was a female's voice. The voice shrouded me, chilled me, and I ambled toward it. Maria was walking with Cocoa, through the many headstones, admiring some of the arcane inscriptions and detail and I was pulled toward the icy shoreline with video rolling. Before I made it to the damp sandy shore the female whispering faded and I looked to an old building nearby, two buzzards perched on top of an old shack, resting from a busy day of feasting on carrion and they followed my moves with beady untrusting eyes. Dead leafless ash trees shrouded the old shack and the birds eyed me further. I was startled as the whispering voice I could only identify as Quay’s continued to lure me to the icy waters. I walked, filming, startled by how hypnotized I became. I heard Maria call out my name in the backdrop but my head wanted me to venture onward toward the voice. The voice a beautiful song, elegantly dancing through the small breeze, mixed with the calm sounds of water lapping the sand, my feet were sinking into the shore and my legs felt the pains of freezing water that had soaked my pants. I backed up, but the voice, Quay’s, sang to me, luring me to join her. I broke from the voice, almost instantly forgetting what had happened and walked through the ancient tombstones and to the comforts of our car, joining Maria and Cocoa.

Our next stop was nestled among oak trees and old dead leaves crackling underfoot. It was the Old Bay Port Cemetery, otherwise known as “Ora Labora” (Pray and Work). It was an old eighteen hundreds cemetery nestled on a hill, neglected, worn and sitting in a dark wood. It was peaceful and serene as we drove slowly down the old Sand Road and made our way to the literal “dead end”. Maria took Cocoa for a walk through the cemetery and I filmed. There was an odd presence of energy as we strolled through many of the old German Colonist’s final resting places. The colonists had settled in the area and were wiped out by illness. It was a sad reality that all the hard work ended in death and finality. It created a true sense that maybe our life, as well as the life of many others as banal as it may seem, is still life and energy and ends in death, or was it a reminder that we should grasp life each and every day because ultimately we live to die? Questions I’m sure that surface the older we get.

You can view the most recent video of both of these cemeteries on our newest Dark Nest Travels video here:Ghost & Goblins Episode at Dark Nest Travels on youTube thanks so much for coming back and journeying through this thing we call life. I appreciate each and every one of you! Thanks for reading!

I Can't Exist Without You

I knew my clickbait title, may attract some of you. I'm talking about that travel bug that is itching me. We are planning a trip somewhere, which, if you've been following my Dark Nest Travels videos you would have been given three hints and may have figured it out. The past day has been full of that fluffy stuff that carries topics on your newsfeed, carry's memes in shape of ludicrous "hell freezing over" scenarios, but in me, there's an itch get the heck on the road.

Planning a trip is a tricky one, especially with projects for The Mothership just on the horizon, sometime in Spring. We are excited to get planning and are just waiting details, i.e, a date so we can put our plans in motion. But there are a few details, other than the realism that where we are going isn't "R.V. Friendly" (damn another hint)and will be renting a vehicle for the trip. The bug still persists on creating that scratch on our backs because travel is extremely intriguing and going someplace that we may have never planned in our past, has come to the forefront and we are ready to begin.

The first thing I like to do for a trip, whether it's planned or a last minute ditch effort to escape the confines of Dark Nest, yes it's a great place, but escaping it's small square footage is often necessary to live and to itch that scratch. I like do download all the maps required, and since we're not taking the motorhome, can use my Google Maps, which is the best map program used to this day. If there were a stand alone GPS unit that had Google Maps on it, I would own one. I don't like using the phone app when travelling with a motorhome, because sometimes the coverage that we carry doesn't allow for it, even downloading "offline" maps will not do the trick. So on this trip, I will take the time and download an "offline" version of my maps just in case there are spotty coverage.

The next thing we like to do, is figure out the gas expense. Most of you know how to do that by taking the miles of your trip and dividing those miles per gallon and you will get will get an accurate amount of fuel used.Take those gallons and multiply them by the average cost of fuel to get the amount.

Now I've just got the total cost of fuel for the trip, and the co-ordinates. We're almost there. I then plan where we're going to stay. With a motorhome, travel trailer, or fifth wheel, your place to stay is behind you, quite literally, the sheets clean the bedroom beckoning a weary soul tired from the road. Traveling with a rental vehicle your place to stay is ahead of you. I don't read too many reviews, but do love pictures, so I'll probably take the trips time into consideration, whether we need to stop the night before arriving to the destination or will we just drive straight through and stop at a room researched, which a lot of pictures, before the point of interest.

I can't exist without you,  a trip, whether it's a quick road trip, a jaunt across the states, somewhere, we can't exist without scratching that itch that has developed, especially with the impending news of cold, ice, below freezing wind chills and another potential Snowpocalypse. On that note, I hoped I helped some of you travellers that want to get out and explore, if not, there's other avenues to research, Google is a big place!

Thanks for reading, and if you're still interested in those hints of our travels, sometime in April, be sure to get over to Dark Nest Travels on youTube and check out the videos! Be sure to subscribe, we need viewers like you. Talk to you soon.

Dutch Waffles, A Family SECRET---and CAKE!

Maria and I have loved tradition, raising our seven children required many traditions, including but not limited to, flapjack Friday's, movie nights (Netflix and Rentals), camping, travel, and last, but not least, Dutch Waffles. 

I was introduced to Dutch Waffles back in the mid nineties. Maria's mom, respectfully known as, Oma, loved to create these heavy, sugary cakes around the Christmas Holiday. I remember distinctly the year that we started this tradition with Oma. That year she had gone through a triple heart bypass and Maria worried for her mother's state of mind and brought up the fact that we could make waffles to help cheer her up. Now in my head I had the vision of a breakfast "Belgian" waffle, loaded with butter and maple syrup with the potential of a side of sausage. To my surprise, this Dutch delicacy was the furthest thing from that, in both taste and texture.

We first received a list of ingredients, scrawled on a  piece of paper in Oma's handwriting mixed with both Dutch and English words. We purchased everything on the list, Maria, being the translator of it. Oma, waited patiently at home. When we arrived, paper bags loaded and heavy with the "secret" ingredients, Oma rummaged through the bags, ensuring that everything was accurate. Success, we got her approval. 

Oma, a usually quiet and reserved woman, began pointing out directions. I scurried through the house, following Maria's lead, because it was new and I was being let in on this secret that no one, but Oma, and now, me and Maria, had been keen on. To this day, I believe Maria, me, and now my own children know the recipe, no one else paid attention, we win.

The heavy waffle iron looked like a piece of equipment that belonged in an industrial kitchen. I schlepped it out to the table, ran a heavy extension cord, and the process began. I have always been obsessed with food, and was so intrigued as Oma gave me direction on mixing the ingredients, blending them together and watching her pour in some of the liquid required for the mix. I then blended it further "for consistency" Oma said, and watched as she stuck a finger in the ingredients and said that the mix was ready. Maria was at the table, her sister, to her right, who also had a part, waiting patiently for her task at hand.

The waffle iron was steaming, the red light went off as it reached temperature and Oma took her seat at the left side of Maria, watching and giving her input. Maria sprayed the iron, poured in the first scoop of Dutch waffle mix and the tradition had begun, years and years of tradition. Maria's sister cut the extra from the edges, cutting them in half, and Oma placed them in containers. Dutch waffles are best eaten chilled, not warm, and with butter on each cake. The butter brings out each delicious bite. Some Dutch people like a chocolate or fruit sprinkle, known as Hagelslag, on top of the buttery layer.

Oma let me in on another secret, using the same ingredients of the Dutch Waffle, it was a cake, loaded with sugary goodness, enough to put a non-diabetic into a diabetic coma if moderation wasn't heeded. We made that cake one year with Oma, it had to be at least eight layers tall (the taller the cake the more success), mocha frosting, an apricot center between each layer, and sprinkled with Dutch Hagelslag. This was Oma's last time ever making the cake prior to her death in October 2002. 

When Oma passed, it took a year from her passing and much sadness, to begin our own family tradition with the Dutch Waffle Recipe, which I made a promise to her not to share with anyone. It was an homage to Oma's legacy of Christmas tradition, and Maria and I felt it necessary to share with our own children. This was a tradition that we have done off and on for years, and although I don't have a picture of the waffles after the creation, we recreated the Dutch Cake and I found an archived photo of the cake in its glory. The picture below was only seven layers, we dared not add more!

A future Dark Nest Travels video will feature these Dutch Waffles , brought back full circle as our adult children come over on Christmas Eve and share in their Oma's Dutch Tradition.

We miss you Oma, this year's Dutch Waffle creation is for YOU!

Semi-Retirement...Life Ship..."LIKE" VS. "PURCHASE"

So, as many of you know, it's official, I am semi-retired. The definition is loose, so I'll leave it up to your imagination. It's a little uncanny when I've been working a large part of my life, and now, I'm relaxed, to a point. I've been challenging myself to write, that's what I truly love doing. Sometimes, though, I really have to kick my own a** to get into gear. I've had many suggestions to write something less graphic, less shocking...something with emotion, something that strikes the nerves of my readers who don't have the stomach for my "other" fiction. My horror often strikes nerves, but it typically involves being terrified to pick the book back up, unless, of course, that is the selected genre.

I took this request, of writing something "normal", from family, friends and readers alike, very serious. I've even posted some of Life Ship on this blog, which I've taken down, due to the potential publication of the story. I worked with a good friend of mine to edit, he's the best, with a critical eye and I couldn't have done it without him, thank you Brent Seth! Lake Leviathan took a risk with me to publish a "short story" in paperback. (a quick 36 page read)

This is a story that was inspired by our 1964 Airstream Globetrotter and my overactive imagination. It's a sentimental tale of death, love, family, and the anchors of memory through the eyes of the main character, Jimmy, the youngest of four. He's pressed with the task of his parents' wishes, and takes it on, head first. He's faced with the emotions of loneliness on the road as he treks through the United States to make it back to his hometown of Stevats. On the journey he connects with his siblings who have already jumped into life, where his life, being the youngest, had not too long ago, started.

I know most of my friends on facebook and other social media sites "like" my posts, my links, hell, some of you even watch my Dark Nest Travels videos posted weekly. I'm "semi-retired" now, and doing what I love, writing, travel, at times, and enjoying the holidays for the first time in a very long time. So I'm encouraging all of you to support me, if you believe in my skills, know my story, and realize how long creative endeavors can take to complete, to purchase your copy. Press "like" if you want, but press purchase on the Amazon page, and splurge knowing you're supporting the skills I have to truly connect with my readers.

Take the risk, if you can call it that, take a chance and give me the benefit of the doubt, you're out only $6.99 (that's a steal). Thank you all for reading my blog, watching my videos, and mostly for being you. Each and everyone of you have done something in my life to make a connection and I appreciate all those connections. Happy reading! I'll talk to everyone soon!

Click here to PURCHASE: Life Ship (Amazon)

Maria, November 27th, This is for YOU!

It’s November 27^th, and my wife, Maria, celebrates her birthday. We’ve spent many years’ together, celebrating, loving, and raising our family. I couldn’t have done any of these things if I didn’t have those years to share with her. She is my light, she is my cornerstone, and in this life her existence is what I needed to ground me to the reality of our marriage, children, and home(s) that we’ve made together.  We’ve been up at our highest, down at our lowest, in moments of sadness, and have overcome many obstacles that rip on emotions like a tornado rips through houses and neighborhoods, and she kept it together for me and what matters to her the most, her family.

I sometimes ask why I deserve such a prodigious woman in my life. A woman who constantly puts her needs in front of those in her family. A woman who encourages me to get off my procrastinating butt and write, achieve, and plan for our future together, growing old together, and nurturing further on this adventure. Words, although beautifully articulate, cannot really express the love I have for Maria, but I do my best to give her these. Thank you so much, Maria, my bride, my angel in disguise, for being my rock, and for loving me and the family we’ve raised together. I love you!

Nataia Calloway -- A Life Gone too Soon

I have taken a small break, until now, for a reason. The world lost someone very special to many people. A young person who struggled and fought a disease that chose her. She was a hard working young person who had started her career in college, which ended too short, to fight the disease that eventually took her life from everyone around her. Nataia was a loving, caring daughter, sister, and friend to many who she has touched on such a personal level, she forever had a listening ear. She was hard working, and had a strong will for life. She had a smile on her face, always. She had compassion in her life for those around her, and it was endless.

I heard the news and my heart broke, it was shattered because in retrospect this young Nataia grew up around me, through her mom, Jen’s, stories. I had the honor of working with Jen in the backroom for many years. It was a privilege to work with someone that had the same interest in family on the level that she had. She spoke about Nataia and her son, Kadeem, endlessly, and we shared many stories of our family life in between the job. So in a sense her children grew up around me. The look in Jen’s eyes, a sparkle, really, was the love she had, I knew this. Jen smiled often, laughed, and her love was so deep for her children.

When I heard of Jen’s loss, I couldn’t believe it, a close friend had lost someone who she’d fight and die for. Nataia, who will never be replaced in Jen’s life, and my thoughts were broken and dark realizing that Jen was facing this; I’m sure, with such a heavy heart, and many sleepless nights thereafter.  I cried for her loss, I’m sad for Nataia’s family and friends. Jen has a strong connection with people and a hard work ethic that is incomparable to those around her and to have this precious piece of her heart gone is a heavy burden. Jen’s empathy for others often far outweighed her own sadness or problems and I pray for her continuously through this loss, through these times that may create doubt in her mind of many things. The questions, the endless pain, will, with the love of her family and friends, help to make it easier, but never bring Nataia back.

Nataia, in Jen’s life was a shining force, and she earnestly inherited it from being raised by a mother who had much love and compassion for that which meant the most to her, her family. A piece of that family is missing, a piece that is Nataia, and the piece can never be retrofitted, but only thought about often, her memories still a strong presence in the lives she touched. She was needed somewhere and the need caused a big hole in the heart of many. Nataia, on your journey, you will always be thought about, you will forever create tears that travel down our cheeks, and your wings can now be spread far and wide to reach the place we all dream about, the place called home. Thank you, Jen, for touching my life and sharing your family with me, and thank you Nataia for being a smiling face to me whenever I’d see you.

Nataia Calloway - February 21st 1998 - November 5th 2018

1985, Cherished Memories, and Wood Grain

Autumn weather does something to me, it inspires me, it takes me on a journey down the road of the past. Yes, the past. Our heads are full of memories, traditions, and it's my way of making "time" travel happen. It takes me to a simpler time, one without Blogs like this one, Videos like the videos I post (although there are many home videos that exist from this time buried in time capsules throughout our house), and social media. Our minds are the time machine, and I travel in it quite often, and my dad, he's full of time travel. He's a connoisseur when it comes to turning back the clock, selecting a memory or family member, and talking about that time line that we walked in our younger years.

My dad was the first to fine tune my mind to technology, so he's partly to blame (thank) for my infatuation with the newest gadget, which as I get older they become less enticing, unless I can use them as a tool to get somewhere, i.e. our travels. I remember the excitement with our family when he brought home a large camcorder, the first we've ever seen. It had a microphone that wasn't a "dead cat" just a large boom that looked like the end of a cattail. It required full VHS tapes, and arms of steel to hold the thing because it was so heavy. There wasn't VHS-C, there wasn't 8mm, and there wasn't DVD camcorders, available to the common consumer, and the future was aeons away from inventing digital media. He introduced me to betamax, and his eventual relentless frustration with the video rental stores discontinuing renting beta and converting to VHS, vividly sticks out in my mind (remember DVD to BluRay?). He introduced me to the first VCR, wood grain and all, (something about the popularity of wood grain on vehicles and appliances), and it actually had a timer, so far ahead of its time (well before digital hard drives and DVR's). These inventions along with some of the best music and movies of my life, were all a great part of family times sitting around the television and sharing our fears as we watched a movie, a new release video tape, or a television series, yes, tv series that we couldn't binge watch.

I have to say he was probably inspired by his own father, my grandfather, Carl Eagle, pictured below. I heard tales of my grandfather's creations. He was born in 1914 and left us in 1985. The things he saw, the inventions and innovative automobiles of his time had to be mind blowing as well as the electricity in its infancy during his impressionable years. He jumped into all of it , he had a dying urge to learn and learn he did. He taught my own dad about electricity, and who better to teach than a man who watched these inventions unfold into a world that never had it?

I owe a lot to that man, for one, he created my father. The picture above was how I remember him, although he wasn't smiling, he wore a green work uniform and it appears, in this picture, that he nicked himself shaving .

I was in middle school, seventh grade. I walked to the bus stop which happened to be near my grandfather's house, a mile or so down the road from my house. I'd stop in and visit him, leaving my house early every morning, to talk. He'd always be up, his television murmuring in the background and always seemed pleased that I'd stop by. October is the month I remember most, the month we connected. I told him that I'd be trick or treating, and he laughed saying that he wanted to collect colorful leaves and put them in sandwich bags and pass them out. He was joking of course. Having low blood sugar he had to watch his candy intake. I remember talking to him about everything and listening to him. I liked to hear him laugh. The school year progressed, conversations resumed, and before I knew it December rolled around. I remember getting home and looked at his house. I wanted to go in, but hesitated because something seemed off. I went home and found out the news that he was in the hospital with pneumonia. I remember hearing the phone ringing and conversations about "Ed's dad" dying, as my mom dialed everyone on our home phone. I cried in my bed, because I didn't get the opportunity to know my grandfather as I could have. I cried because I was just getting curious about my family and at that point realized I never would know him that way, only through stories told to me by my dad.

What I did know about my grandpa was that he was a crane operator, operated mostly behind the old Dairy Queen that was on Military Street in downtown Port Huron. He had retired as I was growing up. He loved gadgets, this I know, by strolling to the musty barn at the back of his property, that once housed pigs. I remember seeing a coffee pot switch which he converted into a night light. It was stuck into a plug socket and glowed orange. He loved to weld, I still have a couple playground things that still exist today, albeit replacing the wood that rotted over time. He owned property, sold property, built houses, one which still exists in Gladwin, where our cabin was built, and one where my dad finished growing up in, the house I visited with frequency. I remember the chickens that he used to raise for meat, and the family barbeques at his house, the smell of his home grown chicken, rotisserie style, rolling slowly over a charcoal grill that he constructed out of brick.

I wish I'd gotten to know more about the man as I grew up, but didn't. I do get to live vicariously through my dad as he talks with pride about my grandfather, and that's better than nothing at all. I do know that the December he died Christmas was sad, because he wasn't around to share it with us anymore, and that I couldn't talk with him or grow up with him in my life. I remember the last Christmas present I got from my Grandpa, it was a gadget, they were battery operated headphones, only for radio, but they were awesome. I still have them stuffed away in a trunk of youthful treasures and get them out from time to time, they still operate, as far as I know. I think about him often when Autumn is in the air, and wonder how life would have been if he'd lived five, or even ten more years. The eighties were times of innovation for my own development, as well as all those intricate household items that I got to see as my dad continued to grant me access. I will forever cherish the knowledge my grandfather passed to my dad, and the knowledge my dad passes to me, and will hold them, and the memories, dear to my heart. Thanks, Grandpa, for being you, and thanks Dad for always being an inspiration in my life today!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Hiawatha, Aliens, Sasquatch and Soldier Lake

Close your eyes for a minute. Nevermind, bad idea, you wouldn't be able to read. Okay, close your eyes after reading the blog... a crisp serene body of water, fine ripples waft, there is no wake, but the deep sound of silence, except for a distant loon entering the ears. Imagine the array of colors hanging on the trees, bright reds, oranges, deep purples, the reflection mirrored off the serenity of the lake. Nature surrounds, and although wooded creatures were hidden out of view, they are sleepy and crawling through the forest surrounding the deep campground. Our third Airstream, a 1964 Globetrotter, is parked, nestled into an arboraceous deep lot. The place is Hiawatha National Forest on Soldier Lake. 

The Upper Peninsula has so much to offer, but the month of September, the very month we said our vows in 1996, is serene. Everyone's back to work, back to school, and people are a little less apt to travel and clutter up the natural beauty Michigan's Upper has to offer. We set off for our first Boondocking (for those of you not familiar, camping with only our battery and propane to self sustain life, AKA: dry camping), in 2014, visiting Hiawatha in her Autumn beauty.

We brought along our fishing poles, tossing a lure or two into the waters. Our camp chairs nestled on the sandy cattailed shoreline. We are not fisherpeople, so didn't catch anything, but the feeling of serenity that surrounded us, the calm demeanor that only nature tends to offer shrouded us. The sound of a loon laughing quietly echoing, and as we listened closer we could hear leaves rustling as a fine breeze whispered through the branches. We had each other, have each other, and we were content. We spent about five nights in this beautiful place, only three other campers sprawled out through the campground, all distant and quiet cocooned in their own comforts. 

Hiawatha is probably more packed during the heavy tourist months of summer, but at that moment we were a solitaire unit, in a wooded area with no electricity, there wasn't a city glow to take away the shine of the stars that blanketed the sky overhead, it was pitch black in the night, the embers of a campfire crackled, and there was peace. Peace because being in this solitude, without technology to distract, without the noise of our personal lives, helped us to relax, reflect, and realize that we loved this life and would do anything in the future to become Dark Nest Travels.

Thanks so much for coming along. If you're more of a visual person, our newest video of Hiawatha has been uploaded to our youTube channel, Dark Nest Travels, featuring Aliens and Sasquatches.

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Labor Pains, Reprieve, and Metal

There's nothing quite like the crisp feel of Autumn. It's on the cusp as the air gets a little less humid, life seems to get a little more sleepy, and travel seems bleak at times. Labor Day weekend, although it has passed, is usually a start to come to terms with letting go of those day trips to the beach, camping, and barbeques seem to be fewer and far between. We like to celebrate Labor Day weekend with a last hoorah at Dark Nest.

The first major project my dad and I worked on at Dark Nest was running electricity and thirty amp power to some campsites. These are used by our family who come out and enjoy Memorial Day weekend and Labor Day weekend. We've been doing this since the inception of Dark Nest, and I wouldn't change it for the world. It's a sense of peace in the backyard of our property when I see the vast array of tents, RV's, and our family nesting for the weekend, whether it's to kick off summer or to end the summer and prepare for winter travel. It's become a tradition with many memories, one where we get together, have conversation, work on projects, sometimes a camper project or something else. Some of those weekends are spent relaxing and eating (how could I leave out eating?).

This year brought a sad reality to us. We recently lost my grandmother, Ruby, who I loved with all my heart. She enjoyed coming out to Dark Nest, because she loved her family, and it also brought back fond memories of when she used to attend a one room schoolhouse in her youth. She wasn't here this year, and didn't make it to Memorial Day weekend because she had passed in May, she travelled someplace far more beautiful, that someday we all get to see. It was a sad reality because all of my adult children have flown the nest, are doing their adulting in the world, and we missed them coming out to visit. My namesake was still here, our youngest, and we both took a reprieve, from relaxing, to attend his first concert. It was a lasting memory, one which I know we will never forget.

Everyone that entered Dark Nest in its beginning signed our chalkboard, here's my grandma's signature:

Raising seven children wasn't easy. It wasn't a walk in the park, and we did it. Our children are doing the things in life that they love to do, and we are very proud of each and everyone of them. Life has come full circle. We still continue our traditions, still talk about the trips we've all taken, and still continue to grow as a family. 

So, as my parents plan their escape to Florida, for the winter, and as we prepare the final "Eagle" in the nest to fly into his goals, into his own adult life, the sad, but happy, reality sets in, that Maria and I will be able to fly as well, next year. We'll be flying to destinations, mostly unknown, in the Mothership, changing our lifestyle, with adventure and bringing back full circle what we started with before commiting a life to parenthood, which will never end, and bring our marriage into new blossom. The traditions of life will continue, the memories of life will never fade, and our hearts will continue to beat each second we breathe the fresh air that is granted in our life.

Thanks for reading!

Newest youTube Video of  Dark Nest Travels at DTE and more... Click Here: FFDP & Labor Day Festivities!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : A "Titan", Creepy-Crawlin' Backwards (in Time)

We were all teenagers, once, right? Well the laws of childhood development and chemistry points in that direction, so I guess that question is moot. I was a miserable teenager, a royal pain in my parent’s asses, so to speak. I was their only son, raised with my younger two sisters, so one could only imagine how obnoxious, how much of a pest, and how miserable, I could sometimes be, add the hormones of a teenager and you guessed it, pretty bad. I didn’t often get into trouble, kept my nose clean, or at least that’s what I had my mom and dad believe.

Sorry to get off topic....

My parents were a traveling inspiration to me, and since we made purchase of our 1995 Airstream Land Yacht motorhome, new to us,  I figured this was the perfect place to take everyone back to my youth. My parents were, at the time, recently camping in tents, in an old blue Dodge what my Dad dubbed, Turtle Top (I’m sorry dad if I don’t have the specks accurate), and a culmination of other things. They decided on a motorhome.

The one they were looking at was big, or at least as a pre-teen at the time, it appeared larger than life, and to my parents, it was an upgrade. It was a 1973 Titan Class A, with a Chrysler engine, a huge Chrysler engine that would typically, if my dad was lucky, get 6-9 miles per gallon. I remember the barrel chair that sat across from the couch. I remember them discussing it in the car and then making an offer.

It was exciting, thrilling, and I imagine my parent’s heads were spinning as to what they were getting themselves into. They wanted to travel with ease, and I totally didn’t see it due to my oatmeal kid’s brain. They wanted the convenience of travel and not stopping at a rest area, and if they did stop, they wanted to be able to actually rest.

The roaring of the engine, when my dad sat in the captain’s chair behind the wheel, invigorated me. The sound of the transmission as he put it into drive was all captivating. I sat in the passenger captain’s chair looking out to the paved country road ahead, through the larger than life windshield and out into the world as he pulled out and turned the behemoth out onto the road for the first time.

We took many trips with the motorhome, some of which I’ll talk about. It was a great inspiration to me and they travelled with us for many years after purchasing it. All the trips, the times I spent at the dinette in the back reading horror books when we travelled to the likes of Florida, through the Smoky mountains, stopping rustically to a state park, without electricity, it inspired me. At the time, it was not an inspiration, but hindsight forces me to be nostalgic and I took so much away from it. I took so much away from within, and it was through those windows, those eyeballs that the RV had, that I was peering out into the vast world of travel laid before me, and limitless opportunities if I put my head into the game of life. Thank you mom and dad! You created something in me that can never be shut off, and we owe that to you!

Here's a picture, albeit, not the original, but close enough, of the TITAN!

Newest youTube Video of  Dark Nest Travels... Click Here: Dark Nest Travels to the HOOD!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Flight from the Nest, School 2k18, & Family

It's that time of year again, where all the children begin their back to school endeavors. Academia, albeit, not for everyone, is there for the taking. On this past Friday, we had a bittersweet moment with our youngest daughter. She has grown up into adulthood, before our eyes, like so many before her, five to be exact, and has jumped from the nest, the "Dark Nest". We watch from a distance, now, as she spreads her wings and either takes off in a shaky half flight, or nose dives, whatever course of flight she decides, is hers to own. Some tears trickled down our eyes as she hugged us, smiled, and was on her way, but the tears were momentary, for her we are proud, proud of the hard work she's done to get what she wants, and we couldn't be more happy. Keep flying, keep flying, our shining daughter.

We have another bitter sweet moment, our youngest son, is a high school senior this year, he has a course of his own ahead. A thorny, sometimes, bitter, high school road ahead, that he'll accelerate in it, we're sure. He has a head for academia and will thrive this year to make it to his long term goals, i.e. college and more studying. He has made leaps and bounds in his life, and will continue to grow into an even smarter, hard working young man that he's already diligently being today.

It starts with love, no, you don't minimize it, you grow love by nurture, by memories, by living the life before you. It's a grand thing, really, most of us take it for granted. Some of us abuse it, and let it fly away. Some take on other things to deter from the love that has surrounded them. We held onto it, without reluctance, we only minimized those things around us, not people, not those we love. We moved into this one room schoolhouse, Dark Nest, to literally "nest" into our life, our marriage, and to watch the last of the younglings leave and fly to their own destinations. It's a good feeling, seeing children grow up before you, see them in flight, crash, get back up again, and spread their wings. It makes you realize that the love you've shown, as their parents, the love you've had for your marriage, has a return, a return of success, failure, and growing up, for us as well as our children. 

On minimizing, well, I do have to talk about it at some point, and will go into depth about it in the near future, either video or blog post. We've only minimized our debt, and the square footage of our living space, not some of the collectibles or antiques that surround us, it's our own way to minimize but enjoy some of the treasures, other than our family, along the way. 

Keep traveling, all of you, travel to our blog, to your marriage, with your significant other, your children, most importantly, keep traveling down the road of life and embrace it all! Never let love get away from you.

Watch the video tour of Dark Nest's exterior (make sure to subscribe, please, we're trying to reach 100) just click here: The Exterior Tour

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Holly Pond, 42 lbs of Turkey, and the Grotto

There was a time in our history when Thanksgiving meant sitting around the table, eating dinner with family and talking about Christmas. That kind of evolved into something else with a history/job change (in the near future, 2003), but in 1999, it was still wholesome.

My grandparents moved away from the Upper Peninsula when they realized that it had become an inconvenience to live hundreds of miles from medical facilities. They traveled to many other places in exploration and my mom and dad often went with them helping to lead the expeditions. They decided to relocate to Holly Pond, Alabama. After many renovations that my dad and Grandpa had performed on the house, it was a quaint place for them to nest.

Alabama was moderate in climate, there were hospitals nearby, and the winters included none of the white fluffy stuff, or just a fluff that would disappear after a couple hours of the temps rising. The home they settled in still allowed for their privacy, set on a paved road but neighbors were still distant enough. In ninety-nine, we decided to take our kids to Holly Pond to visit and spend Thanksgiving. At the time I was working in a Cytology lab in Detroit, the midnight or "gravy" shift as some called it. I arrived home, got a few hours of sleep, and we loaded the Suburban with our travel gear and how could I forget, the monster turkey.

My cousin Tony was a farmer, he grew a large garden, raised farm animals, pigs, cows, turkeys and chickens. His family members always got first dibs on the turkey. The turkey he gave us weighed in, prepped and ready to bake, at forty two pounds, it barely fit in a cooler we had to transport it in. It was massive and my grandma didn't know whether it would fit in her oven. Here's me holding the heart of the turkey and the gizzards, I know, right, I just couldn't let go of my long locks, and look at the size of those organs!

We entered Alabama where the highways were clean, the grass along them tidy and liter free, and the state a beckoning beauty, we instantly saw what my grandparents had fallen in love with. The dirt in Alabama was red, yes, red. I had heard of the "red" dirt being a delicatessen to some, at the time I believed it was an Urban legend, where people ate that "red" dirt, no I didn't attempt it myself. I heard it from someone I worked with at the lab, so maybe someone was messing with my overactive imagination, hindsight tells me they were, I've heard more bizarre legends in my life.

We planned a four day weekend around the adventure because I wanted to spend time with my grandma and grandpa to see how they were adjusted and to check out the area, which Maria and I had the pleasure to do the summer prior. My Grandma whizzed around the kitchen making pumpkin pie, showing me the ropes, which I never really put into practice, and we calculated when the turkey should go into the oven, after testing it, and nearly having to remove every oven rack to get it to fit. It had been a great Thanksgiving trip where the visit felt truly like it should have, and we like to think our children took the same away with them.

We talked my grandma into going to a beautiful place, near Holly Pond, in Cullman. She wasn't an outspoken religious person, and I, three years prior, converting to Catholicism, was excited to go. It was called Ave Maria Grotto. A quaint place sprawled over four acres of hilly Alabama land. It was known as the "Little Jerusalem" and was created by Father Joseph Zoettl. The detail in this gracious Grotto immersed me and everyone into it's beauty and grace. This man had recreated something that only imagination could muster and was amazing. I'm including pictures, which do not give near the immersion of seeing it in person. It was one of many holiday's to be thankful for.

Dark Nest Travel now has video, remember to click on YouTube link in the closing paragraph, and view our very first, yes, very first, Introduction Video, with a lot more to come!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Introduction & Abduction, The first Video!

There's a signpost up ahead...it's a bit blurry..but you can make it out. The tiny reflective letters on the sign are glowing from the headlights of the RV and the green familiar mile markers shimmer in the high grass at the side of the road.  With squinting eyes you peer into the darkness following that infinite ray of light beaming on the green backdrop, a bright, very bright, light shines above you, and you feel the energy, this massive magnetism that continues to pull you in, "please keep reading," a voice whispers to your right, you look over, and...

Well, you've read about our history, you've read about the time's we've had in our past, and all of you will hopefully continue the vicarious journey with us. I am introducing our first Dark Nest Travels, video, albeit a total experiment, and experience, almost an abduction of sorts, I might add. I hope to continue to provide everyone with some form of entertainment, simply because my fiction usually scares or disturbs the hell out of most that know me, and although this is not fiction, it's an outlet that I'm greatly enjoying. I appreciate each and everyone of you! Watch now, hopefully it lives up to some kind of standard of video, if not, I'll get better in the future, until then, here it is...

Click Here to View the Video!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Ending a Long Term Relationship (with work)

After many years, I've called it quits. This long term relationship had to end sometime, and it ended upon me getting a job relatively closer to home, so here...I...am, writing this. It's bittersweet, because I "liked" my long term job (it was far from a love affair, believe me, I wasn't in "love"), but the economics of the job began to get the best of me. The retail job took a toll on my life, as it had for the past fifteen and a half years. The ups, the downs, the crazy schedule, the holidays that I missed with my loved ones, it chipped away at my mental state, mostly, and I allowed it for a long period of time, without fail. I only lasted this long to inch my way closer to that "semi" retirement phase of life. Dark Nest Travels, hopefully, gets off the ground by mid summer next year, if not, I probably seriously screwed up with the timeline.

There were only a few of the "good ones" in the job I had. I will miss them. They were the ones who shared my work ethic, they shared a glint of hope that things just might get better. I formed relationships that lasted beyond the job when friends left prior to me. The friends established were the people in my life at this job who made it worth coming in everyday, and I thank each and everyone of them for being a part of my life. They meant a lot, mean a lot, but when life's goals come along, and that light to those goals is getting ever more clear, a move has to be made and the long term torch carrying will have to be passed along to the next.

It's been real, friends and co-workers, a long ride to the end of a roller coaster ride that seemed endless, and chasing that blazing orange carrot dangling on the end of the string. I hope everyone of you know how to get in touch, keep in touch, and watch the somewhat crazy spirals I clamber to make this social media, video, picture thing work. I appreciate each and every person that I've made contact with in my life, friends, family, even enemies, have all made a huge impact in my life in some way shape or form, and I could never ask for more. Thanks to all of you!

If you haven't already, don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Travel in 1999

Travel, where does it begin? Does it begin with  a new adventure, is it just a weekend getaway, a retake on life? The definition is in the eyes of the beholder of those who are doing it. As a child, I remember our cabin. It was constructed by my paternal grandfather, Carl, in the nineteen sixties. It was a two bedroom, one bath cottage, and believe it or not a pit toilet covered with an old wood structure, also a piece of my grandfather's handiwork, located near a tree line before a section of woods. It was an awesome weekend getaway for us. Our family spent long weekends and took many trips there. The ride was a short three hours or so, which as a kid was endless in the backseat annoying my two sisters. I remember the, what then, seemed, a long winding dirt road, where the excitement kicked in. When the tires hit the gravel to that road, I knew we were almost there.

When we arrived, my dad would go through his routines, turning the well pump on, twisting the old fuses into their sockets and giving power to the place. My mom opening windows to air out that faint mustiness that hung in the air from being closed for long periods of time. There was an old toy box to the right when you entered. In the box were old Archie comic books, coloring books and loose crayons to keep us occupied on a potential rainy day. The old thick wallpaper hung heavy on the walls adorned with sailboats, some of the adhesive, worn, through the years and weather, caused a corner or two to curl where the seams met. There was a sectional couch to the left and on the right was a pull out couch. Straight ahead a television on the left, a dinette on the right. The kitchen was a refrigerator, kitchen sink and stove, in that order from left to right at the far wall. There was a hallway, a doorway next to the television, in the center a bathroom, and to the right and left of that a bedroom on each side. The cabin was small, but extremely useful.

More than just the layout of the cabin hangs heavily in my heart, what I really remember was swimming, enjoying time with family, and huge campfires by our cousin Tony. It was learning that the smell of gas and oil from a chainsaw to make a vision across the street from our cabin a reality for our cousin's own piece of paradise, that helped make these trips so worthwhile, such a crucial part that helped build my travel bug. Tag, hide and seek, swimming across the river to the other side, which seemed miles away, were all memories that will stay with me forever.

In 1999, after our first two children settled, and we were all somewhat adjusted, I decided it was time to revisit the cabin. I thought that maybe I could recreate some of those memories with them. We loaded up our Suburban, Barney, our son and daughter, and with only the memory on how to get there in my head, we traveled north to the cabin.

The trip didn't seem as difficult as it did when I was a passenger. It seemed quick. We arrived. Nothing seemed the same. The memories floated around in my head, but there was something different. The beach that my cousin's once kept cleaned up at the bottom of their hill on their lot had been overrun with seaweed, because their own children were adults and they didn't spend as much time traveling there as they once did. We made the best of it. We had a small campfire, cooking hot dogs on an open fire and then settled in for the night. The cabin had some small changes to it, small enough for the common visitor not to notice, but I did, it didn't feel the same. We left the next day. I was slightly deflated that I couldn't recreate the times I had there growing up, but at least I was able to tell the stories of my own youth, and I think that may have been enough.

Time, it's a funny thing, it ages us, it takes a toll on everyone, including those places we once enjoyed. What time can't do is take away those memories that we hold dear. It shifts perspective, views, creates a different mindset that once may have been. That trip was okay, but seemed lonely, because everyone had aged, my sister's, cousin's, my family were living life, heading down their own paths, and correlation of our paths crossing was scant. It was a good time with my own family, but a sad reality that once time has taken a leap forward, nothing can bring it back around and recreate those minutes, those moments, or those days.

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.