We were somewhat embarrassed, since my husband’s a sculptor, that we’d never heard of Brookgreen Gardens—a National Historic Landmark—before we went to Myrtle Beach. Our half-day visit made us glad our hosts knew of this place, what the Charlotte Observer calls “one of the seven wonders of the Carolinas,” and thought to introduce us to it too.

A Bit of History

From the 17^th century, English settlers and moreover, their African slaves, carved sprawling rice fields from swampland. During the Antebellum years, they helped make this region the leading world producer of rice.

Strolling through the stunning gardens, underneath ancient, massive oaks thick with Spanish moss, you also get a sense of history. While the old antebellum mansion where George Washington once stayed is long gone, you can still see where boats once pulled up to load their cargo of rice. Four massive plantations—The Oaks, Brookgreen, Springfield and Laurel Hill—once claimed these 9,000 acres.

In 1929, Archer Huntington, a philanthropist, and Anna Hyatt Huntington, his wife and an accomplished sculptor, visited the properties, and the Carolina Lowcountry captivated them. They purchased land that included river and swamp, pine forest, marsh, oak and beachfront. At first, they planned to build a winter home, but gradually their vision grew to incorporate something more grand, still: a place to showcase American figurative sculpture, as well as a refuge for native plants and animals. In 1931, they created the non-profit institution and a year later, opened the first sculpture garden in the United States to the public.

The Sculpture Garden

Anna Hyatt Huntington, who gained world fame from her Joan of Arc statue that was installed in New York City, was an accomplished sculptor making a very nice living on her own, even before she married Archer, the son of a Robber Baron (railroad/shipping magnate). Many of her works can be viewed in the gardens, but our favorites—from what we could see in our brief visit—were the Fighting Stallions and her Diana.

But there are over 1200 sculptures done by over 350 artists from the 19^th century to the present, making this the largest and most comprehensive collection of American figurative sculpture in the country. If sculpture/art is your bag, you’ll be glad the entry ticket allows for return visits all week long.

While we were there, the National Sculpture Society had its 77^th Annual Awards Exhibit up in the Rainey Sculpture Pavilion (through October 31, 2010). We loved examining each piece and voting for our favorites (by invitation of the docent). Check out the website for upcoming exhibits.

Things to Do with Kids

• Brookgreen Detectives book available at Welcome Center to help engage kids
• “What’s Blooming” cuttings outside the Welcome Center also help kids (and you!) identify some of the unique flowers currently at their peak in the sprawling, verdant gardens
• Children’s Discovery Room in the Wall Lowcountry Center: Ages 4-12, open 12-4:30, provides interactive exhibits to help children learn more about the history, art and nature at Brookgreen
• Butterfly House: While there are hundreds of amazing butterflies flitting around the gardens themselves, here children will be amazed as gorgeous specimens—from all over the world—that will land on their nose, they’re so close
• Lowcountry Zoo: Locals told us to take kids there during 11-1:00, when most of these rescued/rehabilitated animals get fed (and are most visible) ; kids can see river otters, alligators and more
• Children’s Sculpture Garden: It’s small, but worth a brief stop to take in the teepees, kid-friendly sculptures like a mama bear and her cub, and verses from children’s literature

History Buffs & Digging Deeper

I want to go back someday and take a few of the special tours—along the creek in a pontoon boat, and over hidden roads to explore cemeteries, a Civil War earthen fort site, a rice mill chimney, a bluff with a panoramic view of the Waccamaw River and more. Each requires a reservation and an extra fee, but they all sound intriguing to me! (Most are not recommended for children age six and under.)

I also want to take a contemplative turn through the recently opened labyrinth.

A Lovely Place for Lunch

We ate at the Pavilion Restaurant and enjoyed a fantastic salad and the not-to-be-missed She Crab Soup. You can also eat in the center of the garden, at the Old Kitchen, where they serve soup and sandwiches and there’s a small café in the Wall Lowcountry Center too.

Upcoming Events:

• Harvest Home Weekend, October 16-17
• Night of a Thousand Candles, a holiday tradition, dates online
• February-Early March: Daffodil Days
• Check out the web site for new and upcoming events

Entrance Fees (as of Fall 2010):

• Adults, 13-64: $12.00
• Seniors, $10.00
• Children, 4-12: $6.00
• Children 3 and under FREE (take a stroller for weary little legs)
• Annual memberships available

Hours & Details:

• Open daily 9:30-5:00
• Located on US Hwy 17 between Myrtle Beach and Pawleys Island
• #800-849-1931 for info
• No pets allowed

Last Fall, we drove up to Breckenridge to take part in their annual Oktoberfest, which oddly, happens in mid-September. But it was fine with us. Mid- to late-September is an excellent time to take a drive in the mountains of Colorado.

It’s an even better time for a fall family hike.

Breckenridge Oktoberfest

We stopped in town, found a parking spot and walked the street. Even by noon, it had a drunken, boozy atmosphere, with lots of beer tents and long lines to sample the brews. While I’m all for a good time—and felt a little stupid for expecting anything more than that—I was still hoping the city would opt for some more family-friendly activities. It felt awkward to be walking along with our teen, tween, and kindergartner, seeing little more than some middle-aged people dressed for the occasion in lederhosen and dirndls, a German band and a whole lotta college kids getting wasted before the sun reached its zenith.

The few carnival rides they’d brought in on Main Street were having technical difficulties—there wasn’t enough power—and the bungee/tramp needed power too, so tickets we purchased at ten in the morning were ultimately unusable until one in the afternoon. While we waited, we crossed the river and let the kids do a few of the big inflated slides and jumpers. We returned to pick up some lunch—definitely a highlight. We sampled bratwurst, sauerkraut, and an amazing local chef’s salmon sandwich with German potato salad.

Onward and Upward: X10U8

After my hubby drained his lone stein of ale, we took a local’s advice and drove up above town to the trailhead for X10U8. There, we breathed a sigh of relief. While storm clouds gathered over the mountains, above us was a robin’s egg blue sky and trees that were postcard worthy. There were old, decaying mines and rustic, weather-grayed fencing that belonged in a Sundance catalog.

We walked through a thick aspen grove—with leaves rattling in the wind but not yet ready to fly—and then climbed upward, past old shafts in the hillside and piles of tailings. We paused often to enjoy the views below us, in one direction, all the way to Breckenridge and beyond, in to the other, the narrowing pass. The kids loved peering into the dilapidated shafts and finding treasures like an abandoned snowmobile on the trail.

We hiked for a couple of hours—about 2.5 miles on the X10U8 and Minnie Mine trails, with about 750’-1000’ total elevation gain (guessing; can’t find reference on the Net)—and then emerged below, through that fantastic aspen grove. We looked back as we walked to the car, marveling again at the sight. Above us, the aspens were turning gold and other trees, deep umber, orange, and red. Truly a spectacular location for a family hike.

Details:

• To get there, head up Wellington and take a right on French Gulch Road
• Park in parking lot at right by gravel pit
• Trailhead is across the road and farther up (very short walk)
• Dogs are allowed, on a leash
• Mountain bikes allowed; no motorized vehicles
• Here is Breckenridge’s trailhead map; it shows you how to find Wellington and French Gulch; farther down it shows detail (box) on the “Golden Horseshoe Trails”

This hike is classified as “difficult.” While there are portions of steep grade, 75% of it is gentle, undulating trail or a slow, steady climb. If our six-year-old and this forty-two-year-old can do it, so can you. Just take your time, allow frequent breaks, and enjoy. (It’s totally worth it!)

Next time, I think we’ll hike to the Sallie Barber mine (it has most of its original equipment and interpretive signs)—established in 1882 during the Colorado Gold Rush—or do X10U8 again in the morning, with a visit to the Country Boy Mine for a tour in the afternoon. Mixing a bit of history with a hike makes it just about perfect for me.

What about YOU? Have you gone to Breck’s Oktoberfest w/ kids and loved it? What did I miss? Or do you have a perfect fall family hike of your own? Details, please. Comment below…

Interested in exploring some of Colorado’s hot springs? After packing a lunch and swimsuits/towels/change of clothes, we set off on this day trip from Colorado Springs to a place that had won high marks from fellow moms—Mt. Princeton. We arrived late morning and purchased our tickets to the waterslide and pools (2010 rate: $15 on a Saturday for adults).

This place is a kid heaven that a mama can love too. Mountains plunge down all around you; the sun climbs, hot and dry above; water splashes beside. What’s not to love? Far better than being in some crowded, expensive water park in the city. The waterslide is not really a stand-out, but it’s fast, curvy and totally pleased my children. I had to bribe/threaten the six-year-old to go for the first time but had to drag him out. We spent several hours, playing in the pools, riding the slides, soaking in the sun, and eating our picnic lunch.

As rain moved in (as it’s apt to do in Colorado in the afternoons—start early!) we moved down to the bigger, more traditional hot springs pools and my favorite, the river. Between all the pools, there’s something for everyone in terms of temperature (75, 90, and 100 degrees) but head to the river and wait for an opening at one of the small pools among the rocks. There you’ll find the best option of all: a mix of hot mineral water, flowing in to mix with the cool mountain run-off. When I go back, this is where I’ll spend the whole day (if Hubs is along to supervise the kidlets, of course.)

It was so nice, that I’d seriously consider renting one of their pretty cabins, relatively new, for a night or two. That’d give a family extra time to do a trail ride with a local outfitter, or rent ATVs and explore Tin Cup Pass.

St. Elmo

But we were just there for the day, so as the clouds lifted, we moved up the road (through gorgeous, old aspen groves) to historic St. Elmo, a town that was born with the Gold Rush and looks like it was abandoned in the midst of it.

There, the kids got a feel for a ghost town, but the highlight was the lumber pile, crawling with chipmunks. The St. Elmo General Store, across the street, sells food for you to feed them. Be aware; these critters are tame. Prepare children for them to crawl all over them—and take some antibacterial lotion to wash off hands and arms when they tire of the Nature Game.

They peeked in windows up and down the boardwalks, then we grabbed a snack and made the journey home to Colorado Springs. It was a long, but totally satisfying, day trip.

Things to Know:

• Directions to Mt. Princeton
• Waterslide & upper pool hours: Sun-Thurs 10am-6pm; Fri-Sat 10am-8pm
• NOTE: Waterslide season runs from Memorial Day Weekend through Labor Day Weekend
• Lower hot springs pool hours: Sun-Thurs 9am-10pm; Fri-Sat 9am-11pm
• Cost (as of 2010): All pool access, M-F $10 adults, $7 kids 12 & under/seniors;  Sat Sun $15 adults $10 kids and seniors; free pool access to guests staying on the property
• Reservations: condos and cabins that hold up to 10 people: $275-400/night (but pool/waterslide access for all guest is free, so factor that in!)

Think crossing the Israeli border is easy? Think again. We began our day as we did many others in Jerusalem, all packed up, water bottles filled, cameras stationed around our necks. We walked through the winding streets of the Old City, through the Damascus Gate and over to the bus station, where our guide made arrangements for our group of twenty-two to be dropped in Bethany.

The plan was to visit the tomb of Lazarus, then make a pilgrimage walk through Bethany, Bethphage, and over the Mount of Olives, just as Christ did on his triumphal entry into the city.

Our path was not quite so triumphal. The visit to Lazarus’s tomb went all right. Because of the border wall that now divides these hills like the fin on a fish’s back, the streets were quiet, that part of the city devoid of most tourists. New, beautiful limestone steps lined the steep hill, a gift of “The People of the United States of America,” a blatant attempt to buy some Palestinian love. We climbed them, made arrangements with a man on crutches to enter the tomb (a traditionally celebrated site since Byzantine times), climbed down the narrow, steep stairs. After peering around the dank tomb we exited the same way, the more claustrophobic among us out first.

After asking around for lunch options, we decided to head back over the hill, hoping for a better option than the souvenir shopkeeper’s back room. But at the top of the hill, where our guide had easily passed through the wall and back into Jerusalem two years before, we found it firmly closed, no guard in the tower above.

A friendly Palestinian man, son in tow, stopped and inquired after us. Clearly, we were a bunch of lost tourists. He peeked through the gaps in the wall, said something about guards on occasion, but then shrugged his shoulders and pointed us toward the next gate, about a half hour’s walk away. It was hilly country, and the thermometer was hovering around ninety-five. Our stomachs were rumbling with hunger. And there was no guarantee that once we got to the next gate, it’d be open.

Seeing our hesitation, the man made a call on his cell and five minutes later, a big red panel van showed up. Our guide and the driver and the man made a deal, then five of our party packed into the two bench seats up front, and the rest of us packed into the back, sitting on top of burlap bags of coffee beans. Two men—one of them, my husband—sat at the back, simultaneously trying to keep the doors partway open for air and yet not fall out.

The van set off and that’s when we began to pray. Sweat rolled down our faces and backs. It was dark, except for the dirty windows at the back and the small gap between the doors. Tires screeched below us. The tall van seemed to tip, precariously, as we rounded each corner. People laughed nervously or settled into subdued silence. I thought about illegal immigrants and Jews packed into cattle cars. I mused about how this was an adventure, a story we could tell later. I worried we’d all be kidnapped and hauled off for ransom—the stupid American pilgrims who hopped into a van like they were asking for it. I chastised myself for an overactive imagination.

We reached the next border crossing and exited the van, well clear of the terminal, since we didn’t want them asking any questions about our curious mode of transportation. We entered, showing our passports, tense until we were through and on the other side. Once past the metal detectors and cameras and armed guards, I walked over to the chain link fence, curling barbed wire atop it, and gazed back over.

It looked the same, on both sides. Limestone neighborhoods. Mules. Chickens. Battered cars. Kids with sticks and cans. Old men, sitting on porches, dolefully staring out at the street. Many undoubtedly had friends on the other side of the wall, family. But now, they were painfully divided.

We hailed a bunch of taxis and were hauled to the top of the Mount of Olives, where we had some of the best falafel we ate in all of Israel. But what we’d just experienced hovered, like a shadow we couldn’t shake, until we’d slept and awakened, and had given ourselves permission to think of it as an uncomfortable dream.

Been to Israel and dealt with border crossings? What was your experience? Comment below.

In Montana, if you step off the back porch you might see the painterly evening qualities of the Flathead Valley…wheat fields wave farewell to the light and bask in the golden fringes of the day…

On a gorgeous late July day, we went to Jewel Basin, a lovely back country preserve. Here, there are 50 miles of hiking trails and 27 alpine lakes among over 15,000 acres for hiking and camping. Looking for a trail our 7-year-old could handle, we chose to head toward Twin Lakes, a 5 mile, “moderate” hike with about a 1000’ elevation gain. (Trails 8 and 721)

Most of the elevation gain is up front in the first ¾ mile—it took some cajoling and frequent breaks to get our youngest to continue to the saddle and over to the lake. But the wildflowers—red Indian paintbrush, white bear grass, delicate bluebells, golden daisies—made for some gorgeous water/breath breaks. And lovely views out over the Flathead Valley encouraged us forward too.

On the other side, it feels like true wilderness, with mountain peaks a hundred miles away still visible. There were still snow patches in some low-lying areas along the trail, which was a kick for the kids (snowball fight, anyone?). The lake itself was that alpine green-blue, rimmed by trees stunted by the altitude. We picnicked there, but didn’t stay long, since the mosquitoes and flies were getting to us.

Part of our group took the loop trail back (Trails 7 and 68), which was about the same distance but with more elevation gain. Tim says it was stunning, with continuous views of the Basin. Most of the group elected to return on the same trail to take advantage of the downhill slope/ease for our 7-year-old (and those of us who were getting tired).

Our comrades met up with us ½ an hour after we arrived at Camp Misery at our cars, and we all headed to Bigfork’s Dairy Queen as a reward for all those calories burned.

To get there: Hwy 35 to Hwy 83. Head east on Hwy 83 to the junction of the Echo Lake Road. Head north on Echo Lake Road about 3 miles to junction with the Jewel Basin Road (No. 5392). It’s about 7 miles to the trailhead. (Plan on about a 35 minute drive from Bigfork.) There’s a parking lot and pit toilet at Camp Misery, the trailhead.

Need more info? Swan Lake Ranger District Office: #406.837.7500

We also took a lovely hike to Glacier Lake, in the Mission Mountain Wilderness. Check out that report too, if you’re looking for good trails in NW Montana!

Taken a hike with the family in Montana? Share your favorite trail in the comments below!

My cousin and her husband are renting a private villa in Tuscany this Fall with three other couples and I’m drooling with envy. Sure, the villa and views will be sumptuous. But I’d kill to sink my teeth into the hand-crafted mozzarella or perfect, Roma tomatoes or spicy, local sausage or tart, dry Pecorino cheese…We love cooking in Italy! For us, it’s a part of the experience. And so is the grocery shopping.

Sending family off for the first time to Italia, I remembered some things we’ve learned over the years in shopping in Italy…that would’ve been really good to know before we went. (We’ve rented villas near Arezzo and near Montepulciano.) And with the help of a couple of other bloggers who specialize in Italy (@MyMelange) or have lived there (@WhyGoFrance—she just moved) we have some trustworthy translations too.

General Tips for Grocery Shopping:

• Many stores are closed on Sundays. Saturdays, consequently, are crazy. Try and avoid a Saturday evening stop at all costs!
• The chain stores have carts, but you have to put a coin in to get one (you get it back when you return it)
• You weigh your own produce. Find the item number, weigh your produce, print out a sticker and put it on the bag. They are not amused if you end up at checkout with unlabeled produce…
• If there are plastic gloves, wear them to feel the fruit! Otherwise the Italian mamas will scowl at you…
• Bread may be the same in some stores; take 30 seconds to watch to see what the locals are doing
• You pay a small charge for bags in most stores (and bag your own groceries); just add them to the conveyor belt
• Plan to spend more time than usual at the store. It takes time to do some intelligent guessing as to what you’re buying (unless you speak Italian) and to navigate an unfamiliar store. Embrace the experience and it’ll be fun!

English/Italian Translations for the Grocery Store

Now, translations (you may want to print and tuck into your guidebook! If you’re having trouble locating it, you can point to the word on this list when asking someone.) You can guess at a lot by the picture and placement in the store for staples like olive oil, balsamic vinegar, cereal, etc, just like you could at home—don’t be afraid. You’ll even recognize some brands, here and there. But here are some trickier things to discern:

Whole Milk: latte intero (you might have to use this for half and half, since it’s pretty nonexistent)

Lowfat milk: parzialmente scremato

Nonfat milk (warning: may be nonexistent/just lowfat): parzialmente scremato

Cream: panna (liquid);  crema (in pastry)

Butter: burro

Margarine: margarina

Sour cream: panna acida (locals say this is pretty nonexistent)

Cream cheese: formaggio cremoso

Turkey: tacchino

Ham: prosciutto cotto

Chicken: pollo

Veal: carne di vitello

Hamburger: hamburger or carne di macinato

Steak: bistecca (for grilling); spezzatino (for stew)

Pork Sausage: salsiccia

Flour: farina

Baking powder: lievito

Corn meal: polenta? grano? (We think. If you know for sure, will you please comment? We always pick it out by the box.)

Ordering Meat and Cheese

These are often sold at a separate counter. You can do a lot by pointing, smiling and gesturing to about how much you want, but here are some specifics:

They’re weighed in kilos, not pounds. So these are approximate. But if you want about:

Quarter pound: cento grammi {chen-toh grahm-mee}; un’ etto (in Rome)

Half a pound: due cento grammi {dew-ay chen-toh grahm-mee}

1 pound: mezzo chilo {mehd-zoh kee-loh}

2 pounds: un chilo {oohn kee-loh}

Your guide book can give you numbers between 1-100, but here are 3 to know:

1: uno {oon-oh}

2: due {due-a}

3: tre {tray}

Wine

Typically, you’ll be looking at reds—Chianti, Sangiovese and Brunello from Montalcino. It’s pretty hard to go wrong with a choice in Italy on any of these fronts. If you can find some help, you can ask for:

Do you have recommendations on the wine? Potrebbe raccomandare un vino per favore?  {poh-treh-bay rah-koh-mahn-dar-ey oohn veenoh pear fah-voor-ey}

Do you have a favorite? Lei ha uno che preferisce?

I’d like a dry wine. Vorrei un vino secco. {Voor-ray oohn veenoh seck-oh}

I’d like a fruity wine. Vorrei un vino fruttato.  {Voor-ay oohn veenoh fruit-aht-oh}

I’d like a spicy wine. Vorrei un vino piccante. {Voor-ray oohn veenoh pee-cahn-tay}

Coffee

You’re not likely to find a drip coffee maker in your villa, but you are likely to find a small, aluminum pot that you put on the stove (fill bottom with grounds, top with water and boil). This is their version of an espresso machine. If you can’t do espresso straight up, you can brew it and then add cream and sugar to get your caffeine dosage for the day. According to tweeps like @casinadirosa and @NapoliUnplugged, the best brands of espresso to buy is Illy, Lavazza or Kimbo.

Pizza

Our favorite thing to cook in Italy? Pizza. If you have a pizza oven or a pizza stone in your villa, go for it! We wrote about how to operate a wood-fired pizza oven (see box near pic of Tim with oven), and our favorite combinations on the pie… And the stores sell frozen pizza dough, which makes it especially easy. Just sprinkle cornmeal on the stone before you put down the crust.

Enjoy the experience of shopping with the locals! Remember to smile, have an easy-going attitude and leave with a “grazie.” They’ll welcome you back to shop again.

Heading to a MARKET on the street? Check out this article from Jessica at WhyGo Italy (@italylogue on Twitter). Lots of good info in it, specifically related to street markets.

Have other tips to add? Please, add yours in the comments below!

It seemed incredible to me and my brother, but after a lifetime of summers on Swan Lake, we’d never really hiked in our own valley. So we gathered the troops together (17 of us) and drove thirty miles south and eleven miles into the forest to hike what is reportedly one of the finest trails in the valley—the trail to Glacier Lake.

Every time we drive through here, en route to Our Lake, I marvel at the amazing Swan Range to one side, the Mission Mountains on the other. It’s a cinematographer’s dream. The dirt road leads through a region ravished by forest fire, but making a serious comeback, and into untouched, lush, old-growth forest.  The trail itself leaps into the Mission Mountain wilderness.

Our group was made up of people in various stages of physical fitness. Ages ranged from 7-70 (plus a baby).

The 3.5 mile hike traces the edge of a river and begins on an abandoned road that turns into a true trail. There is a total of 425′ elevation gain, making it an easy hike for families. In some places, roots and rocks make it important to pay attention to where your next foot falls, but it’s pretty accessible for all. The trail winds through lush forest, with peekaboo views of the surrounding mountains, and crosses the water again and again. (Hikers cross bridges made of wide, flattened logs, a high point for the kids.)

We packed a lunch, and when we reached the end of the trail, we picnicked on the shores of green-blue Glacier Lake. There was a slight haze in the air from a distant forest fire, but the view was still awe-inspiring. On one side, dense, light green undergrowth covers a snow chute; on the far side, remnants of glaciers drip into a thundering river that cascades down the mountainside and into the lake.  Trees stubbornly grow from a vast, granite rock face.

To the right, a group of kids were swimming in the lake. Despite its name, by August 7, we decided it might be okay to have the children wear swimsuits and take a dip, next time ’round. Almost all of us took off our shoes and dipped our feet in. Other hikers had inflatable rafts, useful if you want to fish and/or explore (there’s no way around the lake). Unfortunately, there is no camping allowed in this fantastic spot—you have to go deeper into the forest to one of the other lakes, another 5-7 miles.

As we finished our picnic and packed up to go, two bald eagles circled, high above us. While this is bear country and we were packing heat (bear spray), we never saw any furry friends. Thankfully.