On our second day waking up in San Francisco, we still stuck with our Chicago time zone. We went down to the kitchen in the hostel for the complimentary breakfast, which consisted of assorted bagels, cream cheese, fruit, coffee and tea and juice. The kitchen and dining room were big and bright and welcoming. I really enjoyed the hostel, and would definitely stay at a HI Hostel again. We checked out early to rent a car and drive out to Muir Woods. Conveniently, there was a bevy of rental car companies right across the street from the hostel. We had to take the historic Highway 101 across the Golden Gate Bridge and towards Sausalito.
We drove up the twisty turny roads through the mountains to get to Muir. I was gripping the passenger side handle so tightly, with my other hand half covering my eyes. Despite the terrifying drive, we made it. After parking at the visitor center, we paid our $7 a piece entry fee and entered the park. We didn’t have a set plan in mind, so we started down the boardwalk path admiring the regal trees.
Everyone around us was perfectly silent, as if we were in a church, and I suppose we were, in a way. The age and size of these magnificent trees is awe-inspiring and the park is so beautifully maintained that it’s easy to see why people would be stunned into silence upon entering the park. We walked along, crossing over the creek that runs through the trees. Eventually we walked to a fork in the path, one side was the path that we were on and the other was the Fern Path, which circled up through the mountains and back to the visitor center.
It boasted a canopy view of the pines, which sounded promising, so we took it. It turned out to be a 2.5 mile hike total, mostly up hill. I’m not sure we will ever learn the lesson that Chucks are not good shoes to hike in. But as we moved up into the tops of the trees, the view trumped our aching feet and all we could do was stare. It took us two hours to complete the hike, taking breaks here and there for water or to take in the beautiful scenery.
We passed a few other people, but mostly it seemed like we had that particular corner of the forest to ourselves. Once we reached the end of the path, we stopped in the gift shop/café for a snack. I’ve said it before, and I’m positive I’ll say it again, but I’m a sucker for a good gift shop. I never buy anything but I appreciate a gift shop with more than t-shirts and it was fun to browse here.
Once we got our fill, we left the gorgeous park and headed towards Stinson Beach. The drive there was just as treacherous as before, but just so pretty. We made a pit stop at the Muir Beach Overlook and it was like stepping onto a movie set. It was too perfect. We were in the clouds, on a cliff, with the ocean below us and mountains and beaches all around us.
There’s a Jack Kerouac quote that kept going through my head while we were up there – “We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell, I guess…” That’s how it felt. It was so completely gorgeous that we had to stand there for quite some time before we could leave.
We got back on the road and drove along the cliff and the down the motion sickness-inducing curves to Stinson Beach. There were multiple times we had to pull into the pullouts to let people pass us because we were moving too slowly for the more practiced cliff drivers. We parked at the beach, and walked out into the sand. The beach was a long stretch of pastel, with mountains on three sides of it.
The waves were large and loud and beautiful. There was a cute looking café at one end of the beach, called The Siren Café that we attempted to visit for lunch. Unfortunately, it seemed that it was closed for the season. So we ended up at Parkside Café, which turned out to be pretty cute too. I had the Clam Chowder and Mike had the Cod Club Sandwich, both of which were delicious.
We got a bit lost on the way home, going the wrong way twice before realizing we had to go back up into the mountains to get back to San Francisco. Once we got on the right track, I ogled the view as Mike navigated us through the hills. We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge again and I checked us into our next hotel, Hotel Vertigo, while Mike returned the car. Hotel Vertigo is a Hitchcock inspired boutique hotel with orange accents and a dizzying spiral staircase. Our room was a petit queen and had an amazingly huge shower.
We freshened up and headed back out to tie up our exploration loose ends on our last night in SF. We walked around Union Square a bit before going to dinner at Hops & Hominy, a delightful soul restaurant with a modern twist. We chose to sit outside, seeing it as a last opportunity to do so before enduring the Chicago winter that was waiting for us back home. We had cornbread, the cheese plate (always a good choice, in my eyes) and the chicken wings. The cheese was good and came with delicious accoutrements: glazed walnuts, fig cakes, pears, bread and the best grainy mustard ever made. We enjoyed the dinner and the drinks and made plans for the evening.
After dinner, we walked through Chinatown to see the lanterns lit up at night. Our main destination was City Lights Bookstore again to get the books we were eyeing the first time we were there. I got Allen Ginsberg’s “The Indian Journals” and Mike got “Darkness Spoken” by Ingeborg Bachman. We crossed the alley and entered Vesuvio Café for a drink.
It was such a fun and unique place to have a drink; the walls were cluttered with posters and art, and we sat upstairs where there were booths and mosaic tables. It was there that I decided that we needed to do a Beat Generation tour immediately. We had already hit two influential spots (City Lights and Vesuvio) so we planned it out while we drank, mostly just googling where the Beat writers hung out. After our drinks, we went to The Beat Generation Museum, which was kitty corner from Vesuvio.
The store was on point, and interesting to browse through, but we did not cough up the $8 entrance fee to go into the museum because it was very small and you could virtually see the whole thing from the store. We moved on to Caffe Trieste, in the North Beach neighborhood, which was just a short walk away. Allen Ginsberg was rumored to sit in this café and write. I got a hot chocolate there and tried to soak up all the good creative vibes.
The neighborhood it was in was chock full of unique shops and hip bars, with strings of lights twinkling, crisscrossing over the street. All of shops were already closed for the evening, which did not stop us from walking along and window-shopping. I’m really bummed we discovered this area until late our last night. But, at least we know it’s there for next time. We turned back to walked towards Chinatown, and were hit with the best pizza smell my nose has ever smelled: Golden Boy Pizza.
We were not hungry, but we had to try it. So we got one of their beautiful, rectangular slices with everything on it to share. It was so delicious, well-seasoned and had the perfect amount of crisp. We walked through the eerily quiet city, eating our Pizza and self-navigating back to Union Square. We stopped for one last drink at The White Horse Bar. It was in the Hotel Beresford, right near the Academy of Arts University, so it was mostly populated with college students. But there was shuffleboard and the drinks were cheap so we were content. We stopped one last time before getting to the hotel to get a bottle of wine to celebrate another successful trip. In the morning, we packed up and went to Lori’s Diner for breakfast. The atmosphere was classic 50’s diner, with a Cadillac in the center and pictures of Marilyn Monroe and Elvis on the walls.
The food was just OK, nothing super special. When we were finishing up, a deafening fire alarm went off and continued to go off for ten minutes or so. Apparently it was a drill, but it still left a literal and figurative bad taste in our mouths. We took the BART back to the airport and got through security surprisingly fast. When we got to our gate, I opened “On The Road” and continued reading with a new understanding and appreciation of Mr. Kerouac’s draw to San Francisco.
were seated in the cozy dining room. The coffee was great and the food was pretty good. I’m not a very good judge of breakfast places since I don’t eat eggs and typically stick to pancakes, so I usually rely on Mike’s opinion. He was in omelet heaven. He ordered the lamb sausage and goat cheese omelet with dill potatoes and cornbread toast. The cornbread was served with a jalapeno jelly and was such a treat. I had the pancakes and bacon which were uncomplicated and simply delicious. The servers were very friendly and the whole experience was worth walking through an unsavory part of town to get to it. When we left the restaurant, the line was wrapped around the block… so fair warning: if you plan on visiting Dottie’s – go early. We cabbed over to The Palace of Fine Arts in the Marina District in order to walk over to the ocean, not realizing that it was a destination in itself. We were awestruck by it.
called it quits after all we could find was a disc golf course. I know there is so much to see in the park, but we just couldn’t enjoy it in our current state. We got an Uber, which took us through the park towards Haight Ashbury. We had lunch at Street Taco on Haight Street and scarfed down some good carne asada tacos and chips and guacamole – that long walk really worked up our appetites. Wandering around Haight Ashbury, popping into stores and people watching proved to be an interesting experience. It’s a pretty eccentric crowd over there. The shops featured a lot of vintage and artsy items. Our favorite shops were: Amoeba Records (an incredible superstore of music and movies), Wasteland Vintage and Loved to Death (macabre art at its finest). We wandered up and down the street a few times, trying to hit every store before we finally went back to the hostel to rest a bit before dinner.
Coffee House and popped into some of the stores in the area. There were a lot of really cute and unique stores along Valencia Street. Our favorites were Needles and Pens, Wallflower Vintage and Wonderland Gallery. The stores were interspersed with a diverse set of restaurants and cafes. My first choice for dinner was Lolo’s, a tapas restaurant, but there was an hour and a half wait, so we decided to moved on. We stopped at La Taza (a cute cafe with lighter fare) for a beer and to get our dinner plans straight. Katie wanted to take us somewhere memorable, and once that was settled, she certainly delivered. We walked to The Crafty Fox, and I am so happy that’s where we ended up. It is a brilliant gastropub located on Mission Street, and has a bar up front and long shared tables in the back. We staked out an area at the end of one, and went up to the bar to order. They had an excellent selection of craft beer and the food was amazing. Mike and I split the salmon skewers and the wild boar sausage, both of which we loved, and I had the New Kids on the Hops (Altamont Beer Works) beer, which complimented our food choices wonderfully. Plus, the company and conversation made the evening even better, of course. Katie and James proved once again to be fantastic hosts (they were also nice enough to open up their home to me in 
Our first meal included Shabu Shabu, a Korean style hot pot, and bibimbap, a vegetable and rice dish. By the time we made it back to my cousin’s apartment, I was spent. We talked a little bit about what I wanted to do while I was there and she showed me the guest room before I passed out. Katie obviously still went to work while I was there, which allowed for a good balance of having her as my Seoul guide and giving me time to explore on my own. Most days started with a hike through Namsan Park, which was walking distance away from their apartment.
The park was gorgeously maintained and every time I walked through it I tried to go a different way. The walk up to
to the Pont des Arts in Paris. After my walks, I’d head back to the apartment to meet up with Katie and zip around Seoul on her Vespa. We browsed the markets, ate street food, and saw the sights. Not many of the locals spoke English, but I found I could get by with knowing just two Korean words: hello (“annyeonghaseyo”) and thank you (“kamsahamnida”). I picked up a few more as I went, but a hello and a smile went a long way. I loved browsing through the markets and haggling with the vendors. We went to Insadong and Namdaemun markets on one of the first days I was there. They both had their own unique atmospheres. 
Insadong was my favorite, with its great mix of new stores and old goods. I obsessed over the kitschy t-shirts and the traditional Korean masks, the red bean donuts from the street vendors and shoppers walking around with huge, curly ice cream cones (called Jipangi). My cousin had lived in Seoul for a while at this point, and knew all the best little restaurants with the most authentic Korean cuisine. We had Mandu dumplings, Tteokbokki (rice noodles in a spicy red sauce), Korean soups, barbecue, and kimchi, so much kimchi. Of course my favorite meals were the Korean BBQs.
I loved all the banchan served on the side: the pickles, fish cakes, seaweed, bean sprouts, rice… so many little dishes crowding the table. The wait for the meat to cook at the table made it taste that much more delicious. All of that chased down with shots of Soju and glasses of beer mixed with sprite (it sounds weird, but it’s actually very refreshing). One night, we went out with Katie and her boyfriend’s friends for Korean Barbecue and then out on the town. Our first bar stop served us a plastic-lined picnic basket filled with ice, fruit and an amazing punch, with extra-long straws poking out.
One of my favorite places that Katie took me to was Gyeongbokgung Palace, a beautiful historic site that we wandered through for a full afternoon.
The architecture, koi ponds, and gardens were stunning, and with the addition of the blooming cherry blossoms, it was almost impossible to leave without taking about three thousand pictures. We also walked to the King Sejong statue, which was very close to Gyeongbokgung Palace.
When I had a morning to myself , I took a taxi to Jogyesa Buddhist Temple, with help from a note that Katie wrote in Korean for the driver. The temple was starting to be decorated for Buddha’s birthday, which is in the beginning of May. It was absolutely breathtaking.
There were lanterns of every color strung up in the trees to form a canopy over the courtyard. I listened to the prayers and lit incense, and tried to take in the whole scene. It was a very humbling experience to be in the presence of something so spiritual.
Afterwards, I met Katie at a traditional Korean tea house for a mug of thick, spiced tea with Korean cookies. The tea house was atop one of the stores in the market, and looked out on the cherry blossoms right outside the window.
We rode everywhere in Seoul on Katie’s Vespa, which was so exciting and a little scary. We rode up steep hills in the mountains, and in traffic through the city – everywhere.
The Island, a popular destination thanks to a famous Korean Soap Opera: Winter Sonata, was like a fairytale. The main walk was lined with white, balloon-shaped lanterns. There 
were interesting statues at every turn, and a man in what looked like a smiling potato costume acted as a mascot. We rode a four person bike-mobile around the island, taking in the scenery. I had one of my favorite delicacies, a red bean bao…ok, more than one. The island was only a little crowded, and we spent a good amount of time exploring and looking at everything there was to offer. They did have accommodations on Nami Island, however, they book pretty far in advance so we 
ended up staying elsewhere. We took the ferry back to the mainland and had a delicious dinner of Dak Galbi, a specialty of the area made with rice cakes, chicken and spicy sauce, then took a taxi to our hotel. The hotel happened to be in the middle of nowhere, which was weird enough, before you factored in the rave that seemed to be happening next door to the hotel. It was a long day, we just rolled with it. We put Louie to sleep in the hotel room, and sat on the porch and drank Cass beer and talked. It had already been an amazing trip and I still had a few days to go.
We had a pretty low-key day after Nami Island, taking our time getting back to Seoul. Katie dazzled us with her fabulous Korean cooking skills for dinner. After dinner, we planned out what else I should do before I returned to Chicago; referring to the Seoul Bucket List I had made in the beginning of the trip that was now mostly crossed off. On Katie’s suggestion, I took another solo excursion to the National Museum of Korea, where I spent a few hours learning more about the amazing country I had become so fond of. The museum was very large, and had an outdoor portion with gardens and statues. I wandered through these and stumbled upon a waterfall full of very vocal frogs, aptly named Dragon Falls. They were so loud, I ended up staying awhile on a bench, just listening.
After exploring the museum, I, again, met up with Katie and we were off to wander around Bukchon Hanok Village, an area of traditional-style houses. It was a beautiful time warp in the middle of this bustling city.
From there, she very generously allowed me to give in to my shopping addiction and took me to a few cute neighborhoods to browse, including Myeongdong, a hip fashion area.
She also had directed me to one of the more famous department stores, Shinsegae, where I fell in love with Korean Fashion and got hopelessly lost in the underground market below. I walked up and down the aisles, searching 
for the exit that would lead me to the corner I was supposed to meet Katie at. While I wandered, I still shopped, of course, and marveled at the interesting, bargain fashions. I finally made it out, and found my cousin. It was a moment equivalent to a toddler finding their “lost” mom in a supermarket. I was so happy to see her.
mackerel and went out for a beer on Hongdae, a popular club-y neighborhood in Seoul. On one of my last evenings in Seoul, Okjung invited us to her apartment for a home-cooked meal. She made us Pajeon (scallion pancakes) and other delicacies, and we talked about Korea, writing, and life in general. We had a lovely time with Okjung and her husband, and I’m happy to have had the opportunity meet them. On my last day in Seoul, Katie and I rode a tandem bike along the Han River in Hangang Park. I didn’t want to leave. I enjoyed everything about this trip: the people I met, all the food, shopping, sights…everything. Seoul inspired me. In a way, Korea is the reason I started this blog. The first picture I posted on RebeccaWanderlusting is me at Gyeongbokgung Palace. Seoul gave me some soul, and led me to this amazing adventure I’m living now.
***Big, Big THANK YOU to Katie and James for housing me and being amazing tour guides. Your local expertise made this trip so much more than simple tourism. I love you both!
If you would have told me before I started this blog that someday I’d be driving solo through the mountains en route to North Carolina, I would have called you a liar for two reasons. 1.) Growing up in Small Town, IL with only rural roads did not turn me into a strong highway driver. 2.) Even now, after completing the drive (there and back again), it still seems like a daunting task. Despite those facts, I still rented a car and made my way to Asheville, North Carolina on my own. It was a beautiful drive, and with no real setbacks (minus the time I took a ramp too fast, almost flipping the car
in the process). I had rented a zippy little Kia Rio for the trip and it performed beautifully. I arrived in Asheville at 6:45pm EST and checked into Sweet Peas Hostel. The hostel suited my needs perfectly as it was located right in center of the downtown area. They set me up for my two-night stay with clean towels and bed linens in my private room, complete with double bed, sink, chair and bedside table. Once I had washed my face and changed from my road trip shirt, I set 
out to explore. From what I saw, Asheville is chock-full of unique restaurants and bars, and cute/quirky shops. Every time I turned a corner, I was sure it would lead to a boring, office-lined street, but was surprised to see yet more shops and restaurants to gawk at. The sidewalks were dotted with buskers, and there was a lingering smell of Nag Champa and cigars. I stopped in The Southern for dinner and tried their “famous” Mac n Cheese, 
with a White Zombie Ale (Catawba Brewing Co.) to wash it down. I made it my personal mission to only drink local beers whilst I was in NC. The food was good enough to satiate my post long drive hunger and the beer was delicious. Soon I was back to wandering; there was a lot to take in. I stopped in to Lexington Avenue Brewery for a 1st Gear Ale (Lexington Avenue Brewery), which was also delicious. I loved the vibe in the brewery, mostly because the music went from The Temptations, to The White Stripes and then Pixies (all my favorites). I called it an early night in order to start early the next day. I woke up sans alarm, and showered in the shared 
bathroom, which was very tidy. I decided to grab breakfast at the highly recommended Early Girl Eatery. I was not disappointed. I had the biscuits and herb gravy with a side of THE BEST BACON I HAVE EVER TASTED. And I’m somewhat of a bacon connoisseur. After I finished every last bite, I drove to the Biltmore Estate (less than 10 minutes away from downtown). The sprawling landscape was accessible after purchasing a $60 day pass, which was a little steep for me, but acceptable due to the beauty of the driveway alone. I drove along the winding road to one of the many parking lots, and took a shuttle to the mansion. I had opted out of the audio tour, and followed the sweaty crowd through the gorgeous house.
The pamphlet that was doled out to me with my day pass went in the same order of the rooms, giving brief descriptions of each one. The tour circled around through 
an indoor garden, multiple dining rooms and salons, the library, the bedrooms and lounges upstairs, and the bowling alley, pool, kitchens and employee rooms in the basement. Once the inside tour was over, I took it upon myself to tour the gardens outside. I walked out onto the patio, which gave spectacular views of the mountains. All of the 
surrounding gardens had names, like “The Italian Garden”, “The Spring Garden”, “The Azalea Garden” and so on. I meandered through a few of them, enchanted most by the walled rose garden that gave way to the Conservatory. I shuttled back to the car and drove towards the Antler Hill Village, where the winery and my free wine tastings called to me. The 
brochures recommend spending two days exploring the property and I can absolutely see why. I passed outdoor activities on all sides as I drove, including kayaking, horseback riding and biking. I enjoyed my complimentary wine tastings (I tried the White Zinfandel and the Sauvignon Blanc), and browsed the stores in Antler Hill Village. Once I returned to the hostel, I grabbed my umbrella to protect me from the sudden downpour and set off again. I found myself at aSHEVille Museum, an interactive Feminist Manifesto. The
museum featured portraits and stories from women around the world and various exhibits revering women in their accomplishments and denouncing sexism in the name of equality. I enjoyed the museum and purchased a bracelet from the wonderfully friendly store keeper. From there, I walked over to the Battery Park Book Exchange, which is in the Grove Arcade. The Book Exchange is my new favorite bar, ever. It’s a two-tiered book store with a coffee and booze bar on the first floor. You can sip your drink and browse the shelves, and even 
add a book to your tab! The shelves are spread out upstairs and down with little hidden alcoves with table and chair sets to sit and read. The staff were nice enough to help me pick a dinner spot and recommend other local eateries for later. The restaurant they spoke the highest of was closed that day, so I wound up at Bouchon, a French Restaurant. I sat at the bar and ordered Moules Frites a la Paris-Born Redneck (cooked with PBR) with a Pisgah Pale 
Ale (Pisgah Brewing Co.). So far the Asheville brewed brews were really hitting the mark. It felt very Parisian, to be sitting at the bar, eating Moules Frites and watching the rain; brooding, because as it turns out, I don’t really enjoy mussels. I did, however, enjoy the bartender there, who was also from Illinois, and advised me where to hike the next day. I walked to 5 Walnut after dinner, drawn in by their live music. The Band, Siamese Jazz Club (with Caromio), was fantastic. I downed a Mother Trucker Pale Ale (Catawba 
Brewing Co.) and enjoyed the happy atmosphere at the bar. Everyone was jamming to the band and dancing alongside their tables. From there, I moved on to The Thirsty Monk for a night cap, where I met a nice couple, who I proceeded to give Asheville Tourism advice to. Drink enough of these local brews and you’ll start to act like one, I guess. Soon, I was taking my slightly tipsy butt to bed. The next morning, I went to the famed Tupelo Honey Café for breakfast al fresco. I had their Tupelo Breakfast Plate, sans eggs and plus a biscuit, and cheese grits and bacon. The food was excellent and the weather was perfect, which lent to a wonderful dining experience. I walked around downtown 
Asheville one last time before heading back to the car and driving to Chimney Rock State Park. It wasn’t a terribly long drive, but the drive up the mountain and to the State Park entrance was a doozy. The switchbacks in the road were something I’d never handled and I took them slowly. It’s usually $15 to enter the park, but that day there was a reduced fair due to the elevator to the top being out of service. That was my first clue that I was in for a lot of stairs. I parked by the gift shop and started the hike up to Chimney Rock, which is almost 100% stairs. There were many lookouts on the way up, but I had my eye on the prize. I made it to the top, panting and wheezing, and marveled at the beautiful view. It was almost a 360 degree view of the gorgeous landscape below. I sat up there for a while, sipping my water and trying to catch my breath. Once I was ready, I overheard talk of a waterfall, and decided to do that hike too. The Hickory Nut Falls trail was back down the stairs, and then down some more stairs for good measure. The trail to the waterfall was nice and shady, and not too long.
NC. Just past the town line is a rather ominous looking roadside market that sells produce, jellies and Bat Cave t-shirts, hats and magnets. I did a U-turn on the mountain road to stop there and buy my Batman-obsessed boyfriend a Bat Cave gift. The proprietor and employees there were happy to give me some fun facts about the area, including how there is an actual Bat Cave, which is now full of snakes. Like Indiana Jones, I hate snakes, so I thanked them for their time and high-tailed it out of there. I was back en route to the Monte Vista Hotel in Black Mountain, down Highway 9, when my cell phone service turned non-existent, effectively shutting down the GPS. The serpentine roads wound through abandoned hills; I hardly passed any cars or buildings. I had a moment of p
anic thinking that I was lost without contact in the wild of North Carolina, before continuing on and eventually regaining the previously taken for granted power of GPS. I made it to the hotel, and checked into a beautiful room in the new wing of the building. To be honest, I was just happy to have my own, private bathroom. I showered and exited the hotel to explore my new surroundings. Most of the stores around Black Mountain were already closed for the evening (at 5:30pm), 
but the ones that were open featured local crafts and kitschy mountain gifts. I went to the Trailhead for dinner and their special for the day: a fried chicken salad with Gouda cheese and local blackberries and heirloom tomatoes. It was unexpectedly yummy. After I settled the bill, I waltzed over to the Black Mountain Ale House for a Black Mountain IPA (Lookout Brewing Co.). The Trivia Night promised on the sign outside never began, so I moved 
on to the White Horse Black Mountain bar down the street. It featured live Irish Music from 6:30-8:30pm and Open Mic night after that. The proprietor, Bob, was such a gentleman and put up with me asking too many questions about local beers. With his help, I chose Noble Hard Cider first and Green Man ESB second, both were so good. He also took the time to explain what ESB stood for (Extra Special Bitter) and where it originated (Great Britain). I nursed my beers and enjoyed the music, 
before leaving the cozy yet cavernous bar and heading back to the hotel. I had a glass of wine on the Monte Vista porch and wrote a bit. The summer night was balmy, but the humidity had left with the sun and the current climate was perfect. I went inside to return my wine glass at the bar, and wound up talking to the General Manager, Tony, of the hotel for a while about hotel life, Chicago, North Carolina and travel in general. It was a great way to 
end the evening. The next morning I roused myself early to catch the continental breakfast of fruit, yogurt, cereal, coffee and juice. The dining room is equal parts rustic and modern with dark wood furniture, local art on the walls and vases of wildflowers on each table. Soon it was time to check out and head home to Chicago. With road construction all along the route home, I had plenty of time to reflect on the trip. It was my first solo road trip, and I am so happy I chose Asheville. It’s friendly inhabitants
and beautiful scenery made the long drive completely worth it. There were things I missed and would happy to make the trip for again. Thanks for the hospitality NC, you were perfect.
entered the Visitor Center only to grab a map and hit the restrooms before we began our hike. Originally, we wanted to hike up to the Lodge first, to get some lunch and figure out which hikes we wanted to do. What actually happened was we wound up on the Wildcat Canyon overlook trail. The paths were muddy due to days of rain prior to our visit, and my Chuck Taylors proved to be a poor hiking footwear choice. Actually, my whole outfit was ill-suited to nature and now I know better. Please note that jean shorts are not a great choice for four hours of humid hiking through the forest. What can I say? I’m a city girl. Luckily, the scenery was so gorgeous that I soon forgot my wardrobe woes and was able to focus on the views. We reached the outlook and noticed there were people hanging out in the canyon below, basking in the sunlight and playing beneath the waterfall, with no indication of how they appeared there. I made it my personal mission 
for the day to be one of those people. The weather was perfect, and everything was so green and gorgeous. It was nice just to be outside. Eventually, we found a sign pointing us towards the Lodge. The area surrounding the lodge was crowded with hikers and overnighters, staying in either the Lodge Hotel or the cute little cabins in the same general area. The lodge itself was a stately and beautiful large, wooden structure. I instantly wanted to stay the night there. We decided to have lunch in the “Dining Room” instead of the small café in the lobby. The dining room was also very large, with an outdoor deck attached. It had a romantic feel with the dark wood, soft lighting, and large fireplace holding court in the back of the room. The lunch menu included comfort food entrees, salads and sandwiches. We both ordered the Illiniwek Chicken Sandwich. The waitress was not the friendliest person we’d met that day, but the
service was prompt and the food was delicious so we overlooked her surly demeanor. After lunch, I stopped at the front desk to inquire about vacancy and room rates. Unfortunately they were completely booked, but the good news is their prices are completely affordable with their standard rooms starting around $100 and their cabins starting at $125 (depending on the season). We vowed to come back and stay in a cabin in the near future. We hiked up to the park’s namesake, the actual Starved Rock, and the stairs up to the overlook were no joke. The view from the top was breathtaking (minus the huge dam that was visible on one side of the Illinois River). The path at the top of Starved Rock wound in a circle, through trees and wildflowers looking lush from the summer rain. We meandered back down the way we came, past other hikers huffing and puffing up the many, many stairs. From there we hiked up to the Lover’s Leap overlook, which offered an amazing view of Starved Rock and the river 
below. It was finally time to complete my mission of the day and find the way into the canyon that we had seen from the trail above. We found the path and made our way along the river to the canyon. We could hear its current visitor’s voices bouncing off the rock face in what could only be described as shouts of glee. When we finally reached Wildcat Canyon, it took some maneuvering to get over to the waterfall, through the water and mud. Once we were finally in the main clearing, I took my shoes off and stuck my feet in the water. It was cloudy with the sand beneath, but cold and refreshing. The waterfall was gorgeous; it flowed into a small pool teaming with happy little hikers. Though the area was crowded, there was a solidarity among the visitors in the canyon; everyone was admiring the view. It was hard to leave such a beautiful place, but it was about that time to head back to the visitors center. Overall, we hiked about five miles through the forest, up and down stairs, and on gorgeous overlook boardwalks. By the time we made it back to the car, I was exhausted, but already planning our next visit. Even with how much we had already explored, there were still so many other paths, overlooks and canyons to see. I’d imagine that not too much time will pass before I’m back for more.
The picture windows showcased the mountains that surrounded the building, and showed a cute patio, which was covered in snow but showed promise for the summer. The food was amazing and the coffee was the boost we needed to push us through the hike. In fact, when we told our waitress our after-breakfast plans, she insisted we take some to go. It was a perfect breakfast experience and I would fly back to Utah any day just to do it all over.
we hoofed it up the slick, ice-coated street. When we were almost to the actual trail, we came upon a lady moose, just hanging out in the middle of the road, staring at us. She casually walked over to the side and graciously let us take her photo. It was the only (large) wildlife we saw on the hike, but she was a beaut. Caity had warned me that this was a difficult hike, and that I may not be properly dressed, or shoe-ed is maybe a better term (I was wearing her old Bearpaw boots). So I was surprise that the beginning of the trail was so mild, with only a few small hills. Then we came upon a stream that was completely iced over and situated in a small canyon-like area. The stream came from a frozen waterfall that was down a little ways, and I was thinking, “oh what a beautiful picturesque area” when Caity informed me that we would be climbing up said waterfall to get to Donut Falls. I was very apprehensive at first, seeing 
how I could barely walk on the small ledge of solid ground next to the stream without slipping and clinging to the barren bush branches next to me. Once we got up close to the waterfall, I was even more nervous, as it was made of only ice and the scattered rock.
It was in a cave, shedding an eerie shade of light onto the small frozen pool within, and the half frozen waterfall inside echoed against the walls. It was absolutely stunning. I could have sat in there for a long time, if it weren’t for the plane I had to catch and my being cold and wet from the climb. I was sad to have to leave the cave, but we all felt very accomplished for having made it up there. The climb down was a little easier, because we mostly just slid down on our butts, squealing and laughing the whole way. We cheerfully walked back to the road, passing our moose friend on our way. At the parking lot, we parted ways with Dave, who, by the way, caught the whole magical hike on film and his pictures are amazing. Caity and I 
rebeccawanderlusting 