That’s just fantasy stuff, right? The kind of thing we only see in movies, or magic shows. Not true.
There is a place where floating in midair, and doing it at 200 miles per hour, is not only possible, it happens every day… CONTINUE READING >>
Ever think it might be fun to levitate?
But that’s just fantasy stuff, right? The kind of thing we only see in movies, or magic shows. Not true, there is a place where floating in midair, and doing it at 200 miles per hour, is not only possible, it happens every day… many times.
Shanghai would be that place, and while the city has attracted travelers from around the world for centuries, those of us lucky enough to visit in the 21st century get the chance for a ride, suspended in air, on the fastest train in the world.
Instead of rolling on rails, the train floats, or levitates, on a magnetic field. That’s where it gets its name, Maglev, short for magnetic levitation.
When we were visiting Shanghai and heard about this seemingly magic machine, naturally we were on our way.
A short jaunt on a traditional subway train took us to the Shanghai Transrapid Station, and a ride into the future. A nineteen mile trip to the Pudong International Airport that can take as little as eight minutes.
First thing we noticed about The Maglev was the completely different look of the “track” the train runs on.
Made of concrete, and up on pillars, it looks a lot like a monorail. Of course it’s not really a track at all, since the train doesn’t touch it.
Called a guideway, it is lined with electromagnetic coils, and the force that pushes two magnets apart lifts the train as it glides along.
The next thing to catch our eye was the train itself. Talk about a bullet train, this thing looks more like an airplane. And the inside is just as sleek as the aerodynamic outside.
As we moved out of the station, rapidly picking up speed, we watched the readout above the door indicating our acceleration. On our run to and from the airport The Maglev made it up to 301 kilometers per hour, just short of 200 miles per hour.
This was actually a bit slow, often it will reach speeds of over 250 mph, and has set a record speed of 501 km/h, or 311 mph, on a test run.
But it certainly felt plenty fast, especially when we passed the train going the opposite direction at a combined speed of over 600 kilometers per hour. That mind blowing jolt came completely unexpectedly, the first time anyway, and sitting next to the window was the cause of at least one missed heartbeat.
WATCH: The Maglev is CRAZY fast!
On the return trip we were ready, or tried to be, but the blast of air, and the sound, was still shocking when our twin train blazed by.
We’re not sure if that sort of shockwave is something that can ever become commonplace.
Safely back at the Transrapid Station, we had time to check out the train a little closer.
Our inspection turned up an example of what happens when an object meets a windshield at two hundred miles per hour. It definitely leaves a mark.
We’re not sure how often these windows need to be replaced, but perhaps we should be surprised it doesn’t happen every trip.
What does happen every trip is a magnetic miracle producing the fastest ride most humans will ever experience this close to the ground.
We may never look at refrigerator magnets the same again.
Watch what happens when the train going in the other direction passes – WOW!.. enlarge video >>
We boarded the Maglev, short for magnetic levitation, train for a ride on the fastest train in the world.
Instead of rails the train floats, or levitates, on a magnetic field. China is a pioneer in this technology. While on our run out to the airport The Maglev *only* made it up to 301 kilometers per hour, just short of 200 miles per hour, but it has obtained a record speed of 501 km/h (311 mph) on a test run.
The uber-talented Sundance veteran Anne Flournoy of The Louise Log fame produced this hysterical 50-second short on her experience of reading Going Gypsy!
Considering that I have now jumped out of an airplane at 10,000 feet in Australia and paraglided off the sea cliffs of Lima, Peru, one would think that I would have no fear of sailplaning.
I had about three-week’s notice before taking on this challenge, and with that buffer between the now and the future of it, I only had a happy excitement looking forward.
I didn’t even lose a wink of sleep the night before.
I knew the basics; I was going up in a motorless airplane, said plane would be dragged into the air by another plane – one with a motor – by a rope of some sort, then at some point the cord would be cut.
Normally, that would scare the bejeezus out of me, but it didn’t.
Until it did.
You can’t make these things up!
We arrived at the mountaintop airfield where our pilot, Steve, proclaimed it a perfect day for soaring. I didn’t know about the soaring part, but from my end, it was a perfect day for anything.
It was a flat-out gorgeous spring morning in Horseheads, New York (real name, not making it up!) with bold blue skies full of clouds that told stories.
We had a bit of time to wait before our flight, so David and I sat atop the picnic table behind the main building of Harris Hill Soaring and watched the goings on.
Where are David’s legs?! Where will Steve’s legs go?
That‘s when I freaked out.
For starters, the planes (both the motorless and motorful) were tiny, so tiny that I couldn’t figure out how the pilots were stuffing their legs into the sailplane.
Claustrophobia was rearing its head.
My tipping point came when I noticed that a sailplane can’t sit upright on its own wheels.
Every landing ended with a wing plopping down on the ground.
For some reason, this really shook me.
But I was determined (people do this every day and do not die… people do this…) to do some fear conquering. So when Steve was ready for me, I took a deep breath and heroically strode forced one foot in front of the other to the microscopic plane and went for it.
After a brief safety session (don’t touch anything!), I climbed aboard (in the front seat!) and Captain Steve lowered the glass top and instrument panel over me. Everything below my knees disappeared.
Note the sideways lean, the wing is on the ground!
With a tug, we were moving down the shockingly short runway — the end of which was a cliff at the edge of the mountain — fast approaching… aaaaaaand we’re up!
Watch: An unbelievably beautiful experience. And, yes, also scary. Of course, I get in my usual goofy “fear questions” between gasps and panic peeps.
Tow plane working hard to get us in the airGetting in position to let go of the tow plane – exhilarating!
As we sailed, Steve patiently answered my fear questions.
Do you or does the other pilot cut the cord? I do and it’s released, not cut. But it can be cut in case of emergency.
You guys don’t have a radio and aren’t communicating via voice? No we are a team and my job is to stay behind him and keep his wings on the horizon.
What’s causing that sideways scoot? We are between two thermals.
Is my head too big? Can you see around it? No answer.
And much, much more. Watch the video if you don’t believe me. 😉
A poorly executed selfie turned out to be a really cool shot of Captain Steve!
Steve explained to me the dynamic of how a sailplane stays aloft.
Cool nights and warm days create temperature differences that cause air to rotate in thermal columns.
A glider pilot will capture a thermal to gain altitude. There’s a lot of spinning around with the air during this process, with a surprising little amount centrifugal force.
On a perfect day like the one we had, we could soar until nightfall (though I’m guessing the bathroom facilities aboard are primative). It crossed my mind to ask what would happen if we stayed in a thermal for too long, but I chickened out.
When we caught an especially good thermal Steve told me “now we’re soaring just like an eagle.”
The eagle analogy worked for me and I settled into a peaceful mindset. Once I stopped freaking out I found the motorless quiet calming, and was able to observe how much more smooth the flight was than in any other aircraft I’ve ridden.
High above the Chemung River – the blues and greens are spectacular!
In eagle mode, I soaked in the stunning scenery as we chased the blue and green Chemung River, looked out over farms and pasture land (baby lambs!) and viewed the Finger Lakes from a distance.I never wanted to come down.
There’s also a really cool museum on the grounds
After safely landing, David and I bid farewell to Captain Steve and walked over to the National Soaring Museum.
My favorite exhibit told the story of Eileen Collins.
Not only was she the first woman to pilot a space shuttle, but she was brave enough to command the first flight after the Columbia mission lost all seven astronauts aboard.
Ms. Collins found her inspiration to fly while growing up in the area and watching the sailplanes take off from Harris Hill.
She now gives back to her community by hosting aerospace camps every year at the museum and in turn inspires a new generation of aviation lovers.
As always, we were attracted to the odd stuff — this time scattered in amongst the beautifully restored sailplanes — our top picks being:
The Albatross. For some reason, someone decided to create a flying machine where the pilot must soar with his head out the window.
Talk about the wind in one’s hair and bugs in one’s teeth!
And an old General Motors pickup truck outfitted with a high-speed winch used to slingshot gliders into the air.
All in all, I liked Captain Steve’s method better.
An unbelievably beautiful experience. And, yes, also scary. Of course, Veronica gets in her usual goofy “fear questions” between gasps and panic peeps… See the whole story here >>
An unbelievably beautiful experience. And, yes, also scary. Of course, Veronica gets in her usual goofy “fear questions” between gasps and panic peeps… See the whole story here >>
In our travels it is often a slice of unassuming, everyday life that delivers the unexpected, and satisfying, taste of a destination.
As a gateway to Chichen Itza, we expected Piste to be dominated by tourist traps, but we found the exact opposite.
We couldn’t resist an evening enjoying some genuine Yucatán life… CONTINUE READING >>
In our travels it is often a slice of unassuming, everyday life that delivers the unexpected, and satisfying, taste of a destination.
Staying inside the archaeological site at Chichén-Itzá more than lived up to our expectations, but we had no idea the pièce de résistance awaited just outside the site’s boundaries.
At our lodging we were appropriately thrilled at the fact that relics were right outside our door, and our proximity to the remarkable pre-Columbian city meant that we could visit early in the morning and later in the afternoon, before and after the crowds.
Still, after a day of ruins rambling we were thwarted in our usual desire to wander around and get a feel for local life, because once the park closes there is nothing around except a couple of hotels.
Luckily, the town of Pisté is only a few minutes away by taxi.
Since it serves as the gateway to Chichén-Itzá, we expected the village to be dominated by hotels, restaurants, and tourist traps, but what we found was nearly the exact opposite.
Pisté seems nearly untouched by the swarms of activity and visitors at its nearby, ancient neighbor. We could hardly resist spending an evening enjoying some genuine Yucatán life.
The town could be the least touristy of any place we have been in Mexico.
No doubt, some of this was due to the fact that we had come in the off season, but there was no hiding the fact that the town square is lined with little shops selling goods and services to the residents as opposed to the usual trinkets and such for the visitors.
We walked all the way around the plaza, checking out the church that, as nears as we could tell, doesn’t have a name.
It seems to be known as simply Iglesia Catolica, or Catholic Church, and like its name (or lack thereof) is a very modest little chapel in the style of the missions of the southwestern United States.
After our stroll we were ready to eat, and from what we could tell by far the most popular place to strap on the old feedbag was La Gran Chaya de Pisté.
The sign proudly proclaims Cocina 100% Yucateca, and they weren’t kidding, the food was most definitely one hundred percent authentic Yucatán.
We started with the region’s most popular dishes, and certainly the most popular soup, Sopa di lima.
Though the name means lime soup, this is good old chicken soup, but with a twist.
As with most dishes in the Yucatán the origin likely traces back to the Mayans however, the lime that gives it its name, and the chicken, were both introduced by the Spanish in the sixteenth century. The Maya people may have used wild turkey and local spices.
Another staple from the Mayan era made the base for our next dish, corn tortillas.
Strips of them were used like noodles in the soup, but they served as the entire delivery system for our second course, salbutes.
We would probably call them tostadas, but size and place of origin seem to make the distinction. Salbutes are small, with two or three served at a time, and are unique to the Yucatán.
If the tortillas are allowed to puff up while cooking, then stuffed with beans before topping with other goodies, they are known as Panuchos. For gringos like us they were hard to distinguish, so we ordered both for good measure.
In addition to the delicious authentic food, La Gran Chaya had another quality that made it perfect for whiling away a few hours, the location.
Sitting right across from the main square, on the busiest corner in town, made for some perfect people watching.
By far the bulk of the traffic was traveling on scooters and bicycles, and it seemed like every last one of them went through this intersection several times.
The motor bikes seem to be most popular, and regularly carried up to three passengers.
We never saw four riders, but would bet it has been done.
With some modifications, these usually two-wheeled vehicles have become the public transportation and delivery system for the town.
Many of the motorcycles have been transformed into taxis by adding a back wheel and an enclosed cab.
On some bicycles, an extra front wheel has been added to support a cargo area…
He really gave these puppies a workout on this trip. He wore them on the plane over, spoke in them at the TBEX convention, rambled the ruins in the heat of Chichén-Itzá, crammed them in his suitcase, rode in them on the bus to Valladolid, and STILL looks stylin’ – wrinkle free!
…or the extra space can be used for passengers.
Vendors have adopted this modification to become mobile shops, moving their wares to wherever the customers may be congregating.
After a few hours of observation, we felt satisfied that we had discovered the Pisté résistance of the center of the Yucatán.
I have known my mother-in-law since I was eighteen-years old.
Now, as a wise woman with over half a century behind me, I can reflect back on our relationship and see things with the clarity and compassion of 20/20 hindsight.
Yeah, right. I haven’t seen anything 20/20 in decades.
I have known my mother-in-law since I was eighteen-years old.
Now, as a wise woman with over half a century behind me, I can reflect back on our relationship and see things with the clarity and compassion of 20/20 hindsight.
Yeah, right. I haven’t seen anything 20/20 in decades.
We’ve had our ups and downs, like any two imperfect people in a close relationship, a relationship that never would have existed but for a man in our lives we both love, David.
But the chances of us ever meeting, much less becoming close, without me falling for her son, would have been somewhere in the neighborhood of me winning the Powerball and the presidency at the same time. Geography alone would have seen to that.
Even with David as our bond, there have been times when we’ve had to put in some real effort to keep our differences from clashing.
With her first grandchild, The Piglet.
Sometimes we were successful, sometimes not so much.
When we were younger — and it’s strange to think I’m older than she was when we met — we were both in uncharted waters.
I was her first daughter-in-law, the mother of her first grandchild, and a freestylin’ California Valley Girl.
My mother-in-law is traditional, Midwestern, and is still active with her college sorority and the Junior League.
We couldn’t be more different.
I know I’ve been far from perfect, have made mistakes as a daughter-in-law, and at times expected more from her than I should have, but… there is one thing I know I’ve done right.
I always like to find interesting arrangements to
switch things up!
Every year on my husband’s birthday I send my mother-in-law flowers.
It has always been important to me to let her know how much I appreciate the gift she has given me by spawning David. (Not that she would ever use a word like spawning.)
I never want her to forget I am grateful for that impact she made in my life.
Last week, right before David’s birthday, I attended AARP’s Life@50+ and learned about all of the great discounts available to those of us of a certain age.
The carnation dog was a big hit!
I was thrilled to find out that one of their well-vetted partners is 1-800-Flowers, the company I always order my mother-in-law’s flowers through because of their fanciful selection.
So take my sage advice and go be uber-appreciative to your mother-in-law and buy her some flowers – she deserves it for the gift she gave you – and she’ll love you all the more for it.
No one has to know how much you saved.
Then again, telling her about the great deals available through AARP might just earn you even more brownie points.
(By the way… the rainbow flowers at the top of this post are the ones I chose for my m-i-l last Sunday – aren’t they groovy? She loved them!)
Thanks to AARP Membership Advantages for providing our trip to AARP’s Life@50+ where I learned about the discount for my mother-in-law’s flowers! As always, all opinions are our own.
YOUR TURN: I’ve told you my big secret for m-i-l happiness, please share YOURS!
