North America’s Top Hat
Department
stores aren’t necessarily the hopping place to be on a Wednesday night, but
there I was in the luggage section inspecting each and every carry-on suitcase.
“Think about the over head storage, Finn,” my mother exclaimed from behind me.
She wanted to make sure I knew that it had to be small enough to slide in and
out of the storage, unlike some pesky travelers who buy the biggest small
suitcase and stuff it so full of clothes that the only way it will fit is after
several jack hammer punches and the help of the impatient person behind them.
Who wanted to be that guy? Not me. Finally, I found the one, a silver,
hard-shell carry-on with those fancy 360-degree rotating wheels that I could
look very professional rolling around. This specific suitcase was going to run
me, or my mother rather, three Franklins. That was okay with her though because
there was a special “buy one get the other for one dollar” deal going on. We
noisily rolled our new luggage through the store, and after a quick run through
the women’s clothes, we were ready to go home. All I could think about now was
pulling my suitcase out of the bin and rolling it out into La Guardia looking
like a young and handsome businessman traveling to New York for my interview
with Donald Trump. Of course, I’d be sporting Texas Rangers athletic clothes
for maximum comfortability and meeting my sister instead of a limo driver, but
that wouldn’t stop me from pretending a little. Haley, my sister, lives in
Brooklyn, New York, and I wanted to visit her before I went off for college at
the University of Oregon. New York was only a pit stop, the next morning we
would be boarding a train to Canada for my first trip out of the states.
Packing for
trips is very important, but I am a fairly efficient packer, so it takes me
about thirty minutes to pack for most trips. Due to speed packing, I tend to forget
things, several things. Mother began to remind me of multiple forgotten items
still to pack and then I zipped my bags, put them by the door, and went to sleep.
Sleep; however, is when your nervous system shuts down temporarily and believe
me, my nervous system was the farthest thing from shut down that night. I was
pretty anxious, so when the alarm clock went off at 7:15, I turned over
instantaneously and slapped it off. The head rush hit me after trying to jump
out of bed, leaving me without sight for a few moments. After regaining vision
and full mobility I went to the bathroom to begin my morning routine. On this
morning, my routine was rushed quite a bit because of my excitement. My mom;
nonetheless, noted that I still had a three hour flight to NYC which dampened
my spirits for a few minutes. The next thing I knew, I was passing through
security. I would like to mark myself down for one travel point because I made
a TSA agent laugh during my pass through. After re-lacing my tennis shoes and
having a small heart attack due to a misplaced passport, I was on my way to the
gate. Now, it is a Foster family custom to be at your gate about an hour early
to ensure that I am on the flight. With no line for check-in or security, I sat
down at E12 in DFW airport for more than an hour and a half. Luckily there was
a bar next to the gate. Surely there is nothing like drinking alcohol at 9 AM.
Check that, I’m still eighteen and drinking isn’t my forte. In fact, the smell
of most alcoholic beverages makes me cringe a little still. Yet I found my way
into the bar for only two reasons: water and Sports Center. I slapped my hand on
the bar, causing quite the scene, deepened my voice, and asked for a cold water
on the rocks. Half expecting a laugh, I gave a little smirk, but the large
bartender clearly had no more laughs to hand out. I sat back down. Time flew as
I watched SC and drank my water, and the next thing I heard, aside from the
loud lady ordering Chardonnay, was the gate agent calling everybody to
attention. I downed my water and rolled my suitcase into the waiting area where
I seemed to be one of the youngest people flying to the Big Apple. After a
Chaucer-like observation, I determined that I must be the youngest besides the
babies and young children. That was no problem for me because I like keeping to
my self on flights for reading and sleeping purposes. “Zone 3, Zone 3 this is
your time to board,” the agent said with an angelic tone. She smiled, she
scanned, she thanked me for flying, and she sent me on my way. I was aboard
flight 5806 for La Guardia Airport, one step closer to Canada.
Delta
Airlines is much nicer than people give it credit. From a solely American Airlines
flying family, Delta has suited the Foster’s quite well. As I stepped into the
crunched aisle, I came face to face with the exact person my mother told me not
to be. The XXL carry-on bag was not even close to fitting, but after looking
over both shoulders and displacing two passengers’ bags she made the behemoth
fit. She acted as if the entire plane wasn’t watching her, and tried to replace
the bags she removed. To no avail she let out a sigh of defeat and shrugged her
shoulders leaving the bags for someone else to put in the overhead storage.
This situation, while very extreme, is exactly what I feared when my time came.
The only difference was that my bag actually fit, and it was very anti
climactic for the passengers who had just watched the previous scene unfold. I
closed the bin and sat down in my window seat next to a nice lady from South
America. We held our conversation until the descent into New York, and she was
quite nice to me. We talked of college life; rather, she told me what college was
like. She also told me quite a bit of her own background from birth to current
status, which compelled me to do the same. I tend to over-tell stories and
especially when it’s my own life, I don’t want people to miss a detail, just
ask any family members or close friends. Somehow though I managed to leave out
quite a bit of information that I would normally tell others. I would love to
assume that maybe I was growing up and learning how to be clear and concise,
but then again I was looking out the window at the city when I was telling her
things, so I may have rushed it a little. Anyway, we landed smooth and things
were going great until the almighty technology failed. The jet bridge
malfunctioned and wouldn’t reach the door of our plane. The captain then came
over the intercom very professionally and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is
your captain speaking, the jet bridge technicians are on their way, please have
a seat and we will be done as soon as possible.” At the moment all New Yorkers
revealed their identities. Previously, all passengers were Texans flying to NYC
for work, vacations, or school, at least that’s what I liked to think. “Come
on, this is crap!”
“Seriously,
you’d think they would figure this stuff out!”
“I’m gonna
be late! Just great Delta!”
The whole
world stopped for that moment. For those few seconds all New Yorkers on the
plane shot up and shouted complaints, as if the louder they got, the faster the
technicians would fix the jet bridge. Meanwhile, the non-Yankees were still
confused on what the jet bridge was until it started its approach to the plane
door about ten minutes later. The connection was made and the captain came on
again, “Thank you all for your patience, the bridge is on and you are free to
exit the plane. Thank you for flyi-.” He was drowned out by sighs of relief,
storage bins openings, and clanking of luggage. It was time to get my things.
A three-hour plane ride with WiFi
and a movie is nice, but my knees thought otherwise as the groaned and popped
when I stood to grab my luggage. I am only eighteen years into my life and my
joints have lived to be at least 50 years old. Daily I pop my knees and have to
stand up to make sure they don’t get too stiff. How I hike is a whole other
bewilderment. I have hiked mountains around 10,500 feet tall, and trails for
countless miles over the years, but as soon as you give me a chair, I’m down
for the count. New York is always a lot of walking. I mean seriously, just to
get to the metro is almost ten blocks, and not to mention all of the
sightseeing we normally do that’s a lot for my elderly knees. With no actual
medical knowledge I’m not really allowed to diagnose my problem, but what I do
know for sure is that there is no way in hell I was walking far today.
La Guardia Airport is no friend to
those who have little New York experience. Hell, I’ve been there multiple times
and I still have to follow the masses and hope they lead me to the right area.
After emerging from the plane, walking down two staircases, and an escalator, I
was two left turns and a few roads away from my sister’s planned pickup
location. I stood on the side of the road with the sweet smells of car
emissions and cigarette smoke until my sister’s little Scion XA rolled up next
to me. We shared hugs and the “I have missed you’s,” but we were both pretty
ready for some food.
When you go to New York, there are
a few foods you must have before you leave. The number one is pizza. Whether it
be by the slice or the whole shebang, a New York style Pizza is a must.
Vinnie’s Pizza in Brooklyn is a highly underrated pizza joint. They serve crazy
pizzas like the Mac-Attack, cheese pizza with mac and cheese, bacon, and ranch
swirled on top, all by the slice. Keep in mind, these slices are huge and two
slices is more than enough. Another food is a vender dog. The hotdog venders
are on literally every street in the city, and the smell lingers on every turn.
New York’s three distinct smells are car emissions, cigarette smoke, and hotdog
water. Don’t let the strange smell deter you however because it’ll be one of
the best dogs you’ve ever had. If you don’t feel comfortable ordering a hotdog
from a smelly cart with all kinds of snacks covered in grease, then try
Nathan’s in Coney Island or Gray’s Papaya on Broadway and 72nd. Both
of these places are national renowned for their frankfurters. The third food
you need to have in the Big Apple is Shake Shack. This cross breed of In and
Out and Five Guys drives people mad. This place has a juicier burger and better
secret sauce than In and Out, and has multiple ways to eat delicious fries
better than Five Guys. I promise that you will not leave this place hungry or
unhappy. There are several locations all through the city and there is even one
in Madison Square Park.
Vinnie’s happened to be the
destination for our lunch. We ordered some slices and talked about the plans
for the rest of the day. A shared opinion between my sister and I is that planning
a New York trip is very simple to do. Watch a few movies based in NYC before
and on your way to the city and write down places you want to see because there
is a lot, but it is all doable in just a few days. We chose to take a stroll
though the famous Central Park.
Since 1908, movies have been filmed
in Central Park, and it is always fun to walk though the park and reenact movie
scenes (you won’t be the only one). Whether you are singing songs like in
Enchanted, or racing boats like Stuart Little, you won’t be looked at too
strangely. For you men traveling with lady friends, this is an excellent
opportunity to make her smile when you ask her about a certain scene from her
favorite chick flick because a majority of those were filmed within Central Park.
Haley and I walked aimlessly for a
while, stopping at the met to look in on the Egyptian Temple, and then back
into the park for some ice cream. The park is breathtaking really. Among the
tall buildings and muggy air is this rectangle of trees providing all New
Yorkers with a litter and smoke free oasis. Runners whiz by you and couples
laugh together, this park is a magical place and a great place to rest and
picnic. After walking all through the wonderful slice of Heaven we stepped back
into the still beautiful city. We went back to Brooklyn so I could pick up my
stuff from the car and put it in the apartment. I only wanted to go back so I
could see her dog Smudge. This little guy is a fireball of energy, and he gets
so excited when new people are over. We stayed for a bit and then walked Smudge
to the dog park.
Two things about the parks in New
York that may come as a shock is the size and number. There are over 1,700
parks, playgrounds, and recreational areas in New York City filled with Frisbee
players, football practices, family outings, hippie drum circles, and picnic
areas. All of these parks are great for kids and adults, and they provide a
great way to people watch to get a feel for New York daily life. The dog parks
are cool too because you just walk in and release your dog to play with other
dogs. It’s a way to meet new people in your area and they are usually around
places that will let you bring your dog inside if it gets too hot or cold.
Smudge had his fun in the park with
a few dogs, but he was ready to go back home and play with his toys. Haley and
I were going to see the recent Simon Pegg movie The World’s End with one of her friends. So we walked back to the
apartment and dropped the dog off only to leave after two minutes to meet Evan
at the theater. Once we arrived, we waited in line and shortly made our way to
our seats where I had a pretty good view of everything.
New York fashion is such a broad
subject that I wouldn’t touch its realms with a ten-foot pole, but I will tell
you that I stepped into the theater with nobody younger than 21 and all of them
looked like snobby movie critics ready to write for Rotten Tomatoes. Vans or
Combat Boots; skinny jeans or skinny jean shorts; plaid shirts or band shirts;
square framed big glasses, typical of snobby critics, and hair that resembles a
well-educated man who takes pride in fashion trends.
After a few awkward trailers, the
movie began. It was a riot. That movie was a wonderful way to end my night. It
was late and we had to get up early in the morning so we stopped at Pop’s
Burgers and got a to go order and we went home. We ate and chilled for a bit
and then I got on the roof. The ladder outside most New York apartments looks
like it won’t hold more than 50 pounds, and there is no safety ring around the
back either to hold you close to the staircase below you. No, instead you climb
a rusted and paint-chipped death ladder about 7 or 8 steps until you have to
step over a two-foot gap in between the ladder and rooftop. Once on the roof, I
saw everything. The skyline was beautiful and only scene in movies. The lights
lit up buildings far and wide creating the picturesque city that never sleeps.
It was 12:15 at this point and I looked over each edge of the complex to see
restaurants and bars filled with people, sirens going off in the distance, the
ever present sound of car horns from impatient drivers, and people wandering
the streets. This truly is a real place. After a few years of visiting, it
finally hit me that people leave here. This expensive living, hard to get by,
party life was no American Dream, but it sure is an exhilarating lifestyle that
only certain people can handle. After praying and thanking God for the
beautiful landscape I climbed down and readied myself for bed. The small one
room with shared kitchen apartment isn’t ideal for guests, so I slept in a
chair, footstool, and table combination bed for five hours. I laid in that so
called bed for a few minutes before I realized how much walking I did and how good
my legs and knees felt, I looked to them and gave them a congratulatory pat
knowing full well that I’d be sitting tomorrow for almost 10 hours in a train. It
was an early morning rise for us both, as we would need to be up at 5:15 and
out the door with all of our stuff no later than 6 AM. Canada, here I come.
Eventually, the Yankees do decide
to go find a place to rest until the next party begins. It seemed like the
scene after a party the next morning at 5:30. It was a Saturday and bars had
closed a few hours before and most still had glasses and trash scattered over
tables and the ground. The people walking around all had the same hung-over
look on their face as they tried to navigate their way to a place to lie down. There
were a few park bench nappers and cardboard box layers, but overall there was
hardly anybody on the streets, except Haley and me. We were trudging along very
slow towards the distant metro and we too had red eyes and sore muscles from
the night before. Our pains were due to lack of conditioning and allergies
rather than partying too hard. With the sun still below the horizon and the
moon still high in the sky, Brooklyn, New York looked peaceful. The breeze
blowing through the parks and onto our faces felt like kisses from angels. I
for one needed the breeze because I was carrying my backpack and luggage with
me through the streets and I was beginning to sweat, a lot. We finally made it
to the metro after pulling the New Yorker move of opening the exit door to walk
through instead of a Metro card swipe. We were in for a few train switches because
the “L” was under construction, so we would transfer to the “Q” at Union
Station, then take that to 42nd street where we get on the “4” or
“5” to Penn Station where the AmTrack train would depart. Luckily, the metro
cars are just about empty on Saturdays at 6 AM, so we relaxed when we both
realized nobody would be behind us trying to push us faster through doors and
up staircases.
The metro is a wonderful means of
transportation and I am so glad I was used to the smells and sounds because I
can imagine the overwhelming anxiety that would hit a first-timer walking down
the stairs expecting a well-established and sanitized system of trains with
simple navigation patterns. The metro is not at all the worst place to be, if
you really think it is, then maybe visit the Bronx, but it isn’t a place to sit
around and waste time. The New Yorker attitude of fast paced living branches
from the underground in these subways. The trains arrive every 8-10 minutes and
unload and reload passengers in about two minutes max, then it drives about 25
miles per hour (feels like 100 around curves) to the next stop where the
process repeats. Be careful on weekdays because rush hour down there is quite
stressful. The New York Subway averages 5.4 million rides on weekdays (NYMTA). Some
stops release more than others while some pick up more than others, so I advise
early morning, early afternoon, or nighttime for the subway unless you are able
to move fast and learn even faster.
Haley and I sat in a near empty car
and made all of our train transfers flawlessly, we then found ourselves
standing at a Penn Station food court ready to eat breakfast. After eating a
mediocre bacon, egg, and cheese bagel and bumping into a fire alarm, which by
the way went off and nobody would bother to even glance over at it, we walked
to the train schedule and found the Maple Leaf. We were very early which gave
us first dibs on a seat in the front of the train. We settled in and put our
tickets on the tray table. “This is so exciting,” I said to her through a yawn.
“I know
this is gonna be a great trip, but we still have a ten hour ride bud,” she
reminded me.
“Yeah we
do, but I won’t get bored.”
I was never
bored, but I sure was tired. I woke up two hours later to our first stop. We
were on our way to Canada.
The train
ride was long, but it was truly wonderful. We went by several waterways,
mountains, pastures, forests, and even a few swamps for the full experience of
New York wilderness. The seats reclined very far back and there was a leg rest
and foot rest, we were almost completely horizontal the whole ride. I watched a
movie and read for a few hours, and then Haley and I went four cars back into
the food cart because we held off hunger for as long as we could. The biggest
downside to the train was WiFi. We were told that the train did have wireless
internet, but AmTrack forgot to mention that you could only access it through
the food cart. Haley was quite disappointed about this, but I wasn’t too
worried because I had plenty of stuff to do still. My high-class meal from the
food car was a Panini with too much salami and an apple juice. What a filling
meal that was. We then traversed back to the front car and slept a little more
and read a little more before I found myself back in the food car using the
WiFi. I only wanted to waste enough time so I could go back to the front car
and sleep until we got to Niagra Falls. My plan was foiled yet again by
technology. My sister has a Nintendo DS that has the coolest games on it, so I
found myself playing that for the last hour of the train ride. We stopped in
Niagra Falls, Ontario, Canada, and we were about to go through customs. I
couldn’t say I was there yet; I still had to be legally permitted into its
borders.
I thought
making a TSA agent was an accomplishment, but the Canada/America border patrol
made me realize that I’d have to have more than just simple knock knock jokes
to make these guys smile. “Citizenship sir?”
“United
States of America.”
“Why are
you coming to Canada?”
“Visiting
ma’am.”
“Do you
know where you’re staying?”
“Some hotel
with my sister.”
“She didn’t
tell you?”
“I’m sure
she did, but I’m not the best listener.”
Blank
stare.
“Well,
enjoy your stay Mr. Foster.”
“Thank
you.”
I mean come
on Canada. Let’s get some humor eh? I can’t even make a slight joke without
having a rapid-fire question thrown back in my face. I’ll make one of them
laugh, I promise. Anyway, I was now an international traveler. I’m in Canada.
‘Twas a dream come true to step out of customs into the fresh air of North
America’s Top Hat. We were only one chatty cab driver away from our hotel and
then we would be officially inside Canada. “Your hotel is in the best spot
imaginable,” said our very talkative taxi driver. “You are on top of Clifton
Hill with restaurants all around you, Casino to your right and Falls just down
the hill. You guys are going to have a great trip.” We thanked and paid him and
stepped into the Holiday Inn where we checked in and dropped our bags in room
502. We both checked out our room and picked beds, which was a problem when we
were younger, but not anymore. It wasn’t until my usual roof access check that
I found out how cool this town really was. The roof door was unlocked so I
stepped onto the roof to look at my surroundings to get a feel for the city. I
will tell you that the casino was large, very large, and the Hilton was even
bigger. Taller buildings and the tree line blocked my view of the falls, but I
wasn’t let down because I wanted to see them up close anyway. Truthfully you won’t
get the full affect of its glory until you are right next to them. I walked
back down to my room where we unpacked a little and laid on an actual bed. We
got up after a few minutes and decided that we would walk down the hill towards
the falls just to get a feel for the area. After deciding on the remainder of
our night we went down the elevator and out into the streets.
In New York, there is a high
percentage of people traveling from different parts of the world, and on any
given day you could run into a number of different nationalities. However, New
York is much bigger than Niagra Falls, Canada and the Falls are actually one of
the top places for couples and honeymooners to visit all over the world. In
other words, there is a higher concentration of international travelers at
Niagra Falls than I could have ever expected. All of these travelers have
different social norms on how close they can stand to you in lines and at
attractions, and where to stop on walkways to take pictures, and even how to take
pictures. There are so many things to get used to when you travel, and
especially at a hot spot for tourism like this.
We continued to walk closer to the
falls and almost simultaneously, my sister and I both gasped. There they were,
the Niagra Falls.
This 165-foot drop of flowing water
that splashes against jagged rocks which makes a thick mist changed the way I
view nature. The water flow of the Falls is number 5 in the world at almost
65,000 cubic feet per second. That water is the overflow from Lake Erie into
Lake Ontario. The three falls include the Bridal Veil Falls and The American
Falls, both on the American side, and the Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side.
All three together make up the Niagra Gorge, a beautiful site for tourists to
feel God’s closeness.
After completely crossing the
street and going towards the barriers, we were met with hordes of tourists.
French, Chinese, Korean, Swahili, and so many other languages filled the air
very loudly as each person or family was competing with the thundering Falls
just behind them. I dropped my shoulders and showed these tourists what
American football looks and feels like, and we made it to a great picture spot.
Haley and I aren’t much for selfies and posed pictures, but give us cameras and
we will take some beautiful scenic photography. We walked up and down Falls
Boulevard and found ourselves eating in Margaritaville. This restaurant is
usually in a beachside location, but then again Niagra Falls is highly occupied
year round, so they have quite a few rare restaurants. In addition to the rare
location, we ran into a rare type of person, a friendly person. The stereotype
of overly friendly Canadians is true. The waiters, waitresses, managers, and other
diners were all very friendly and only wanted to talk and be nice. Haley and I
were treated like royalty and it felt great. Steak and coconut shrimp hit the
spot too; Jimmy Buffet’s Parrotheads know how to make themselves some delicious
coconut shrimp that’s for certain. We concluded our meal and stepped back into
the land of tourism that is Niagra Falls, Canada. We decided to walk through
Queen Victoria’s Park for the remainder of our night. This park is 125 years
old and filled with gardens and fountains taking on the appearance that right
through the trees to the west may actually be Buckingham Palace. As we
continued walking through the park, the masses of people grew large like they
were down by the falls. A little confused, we walked a little slower only to
turn the corner into Las Vegas. Now of course it wasn’t actually Las Vegas, but
the bright flashing lights, colorful building topped with roller coasters and
carnival rides, arcades, mini putt courses, haunted houses, fast food
restaurants, and so many other attractions, could have confused anybody. We
walked through the land of playthings bewildered that this theme park had been
just around the corner the whole time. Hard Rock Café, Planet Hollywood, a
Ferris wheel, Ripley’s Believe it Or Not, and other famous museums and themed
events were all here in Niagra Falls, Canada. Confusion was at an all-time
high. We stopped in an arcade and spent $20 American dollars on tokens and
flushed them right down the toilet. We were acting like ten-year olds in this
mystical place, but then the age kicked in and we began to feel sleepy even
through the pop music blasting far too loud all over the theme park. The walk
home was peaceful, a little long, but very breezy and nice. I only really
remember laying down that night to pray and not finishing my prayer. What a
beautiful place God blessed us with, tomorrow we enter the Falls.
Alarm clocks, to me anyway, have
always seemed like a warning. Not very many people wake up on their first
alarm. While I am a morning person, you can’t tell me that beds are easy to get
out of in the morning. That morning came at me much faster than expected. While
my body felt great, my mind was insisting that I lay a little longer. It felt
like the angel and devil were on my shoulders.
“Finn, get up, you are in Canada!”
“Finn, take a little more time to
rest, you deserve it.”
“Seriously Finn, you can hear
Niagra Falls from here, go look at them now.”
“The Niagra Falls will still be
there Finn, they are a landmark that probably won’t disappear any time soon.”
The biggest problem with the angel
and devil was that I couldn’t figure out which one was even the devil.
Eventually I got up and touched the ground next to the bed where I was met with
the cold air from the A/C. I shivered and rushed to put clothes on before I got
frostbite on my toes. As the water fell from the sink I thought about the day
ahead of me. Was I really about to see Niagra Falls up close and personal? I
splashed my face and some of it snuck down the neckline of my shirt sending
chills through my whole body forcing me to shoot straight up. I was awake now.
The energy finally kicked in, next thing I knew I was hovering over each move
my sister made, “Haley, let’s go.”
“Would you look at that, I can see
the Falls from here.”
“So where we eating breakfast?”
“When do you want to go to the
falls?”
“PLEASE HURRY!”
Usually I get some sort of
response, but she is a robot in the morning until coffee is in her system. From
the weather report, I could tell that most summer mornings in Canada are
pleasant, and that morning proved to be another great one. Finally we were on
the move and after walking around the corner, we decided to eat at a cool
breakfast place called The Famous. I’m not sure what they are famous for, but
it could be their portion sizes. The food was massive. I thought people made
jokes about Americans having big and unhealthy portions, but there I was in
Canada getting my American on. My stomach had enough and my heart told me to
stop, so we paid and got out of there. The first stop on our trip would be the
Maid of Mist.
This boat has been taking tourists
within 200 feet of the falls since the late 19th century. Obviously,
the boat has been restored and upgraded, but it still gave us a wonderful peak
into God’s creation.
After getting a complimentary
poncho and boarding the boat on the upper deck, we heard the horn sound and the
on ramps were unhooked. We were off. There was an audio recording that told
facts and stories about the Falls, but I only caught bits and pieces of it
through the thundering Falls and people screaming about the water being poured
all over the top deck.
In 1859 a French tight rope walker
named Charles Blondin crossed the Falls from the American side to the Canadian
side on a cable 3/8 of an inch wide. In 1901, schoolteacher, Annie Taylor went
over the Falls in a wooden barrel and survived. And perhaps the coolest story
came in 1960 when seven-year old Roger Woodward plunged into the falls wearing
only a swimsuit and small life jacket; a Maid of the Mist tour boat rescued
him.
These facts were the only ones I
heard because right as the story of the Woodward boy ended, the boat turned to
my side and we were soaked by the Horseshoe Falls. From squinted eyes I could
see the Falls. The water roared and the waves grew mightier. The ship rocked,
but not for a moment was I scared; in fact, the entire thing felt like Heaven.
I say that because there is no other word to describe what I saw and felt
during those few moments. Our captain spun us out of there and we were on our
way back to the dock. What a thrill. Our next stop was Rainbow Bridge. This
bridge is the connecting point between the United States and Canada. Customs
and Border Protection was located on both countries’ side and you could tell which
one had the more pleasant workers.
“Citizenship sir?”
“’Merica sir.”
Blank stare
one.
“Why were
you in Canada?”
“Niagra
Falls sir.”
“Okay, are
you bringing any illegal substances or firearms across?”
After I
chuckled at the silly question, “No sir.”
Blank stare
number two.
“Have fun
then.”
Once I was
through, I watched my sister get reprimanded by the Border Patrol Agent for
leaving her social security card in her passport. We left their offices and
stepped out into the New York side of Niagra Falls. This side was a much
cheaper imitation of the Canadian side. Now, I will say that this side had a much
better view of the falls because the rivers branched from the American side and
dropped down the edge into the Canadian side. We first went to the Observation
Dock. Once again I will tell you that seeing the Falls up close is much better
than high up in the sky and far away. Unless you have a high-powered camera and
you’re shooting a landscape photo, you won’t even get a good picture. The dock was
pretty neat, but we took the elevator down into the New York side of the Maid
of the Mist tour to get a closer look. We weaved in and out of people trying to
get in line and cut straight across to the viewing station. From the Canadian
side, it is easy to see a staircase on the left side of the American Falls, and
that is what we intended to climb. We lacked rain ponchos however, so neither
of us went to the top because we were drenched before we hit the second
staircase. We climbed back to a dry spot and continued through Niagra Falls
State Park.
When looking at the Falls from the
Canadian side you can clearly see that The American Falls has a little piece
that is disconnected from it. That disconnected piece is called Bridal Veil
Falls. From one spot in the park, you can stand literally 2 feet from the drop
of the falls and it really brings home the idea of how small you actually are.
That is the smallest of the three falls in the Gorge, and doesn’t even show up
on the list of the tallest 500 waterfalls in the world.
I stood in that spot in awe of
everything. I had sunglasses on at the time, and I had to take them off because
I didn’t want anything to block my view of this beautiful place. After a few
minutes of being speechless, I managed to step back from the viewpoint to allow
others to see what I saw and walk to the other side to be overwhelmed yet
again. On the latter side of the viewpoint is the American Falls. This side is
much bigger, and though you may be a little further, about 5 feet, you still
get chills. I took more pictures on this side, one of which I posted online to
the Chacos website showing off my custom sandals with a beautiful view in the
background. After a while, Haley and I decided to keep walking through the
remainder of the park. Suddenly, a building of sorts came to visibility from
the trees. We had just stumbled across Cave of the Winds.
This attraction takes you down a
man made elevator shaft to the base of the Bridal Veil Falls. There is a poncho
stand at the bottom where you should absolutely grab one to put on. Then you
walk up and down wooden staircases while getting pummeled by massive amounts of
water. The bravest of souls make their way to the Hurricane Deck where the
water pressure is so high that you may have to brace yourself against a
handrail as you will be engulfed by the Falls in a few short seconds.
We then left the Hurricane Deck
only to wait in a very long line at the bottom. Once we finally got back up to
the top, we made our way to the last part of the park. We visited the beautiful
Three Sisters Islands after a short hike and got down right next to the rapids.
The islands are named after the
daughters of the once General and later successful businessman Parkhurst
Whitney. There are some cool tales of animals and a hermit that once lived near
those islands that are on wooden info boards all through out the park.
We left the park having seen all
there was to see and headed back to the Rainbow Bridge to go through customs. I
was in a much better mood when I remembered that Canadians are nice. We stepped
into the offices of Border Patrol and Customs where we were warmly greeted by a
happy officer who wanted to know everything about our lives. After explaining
to him why Haley and I had different last names he told us that we could walk
into Canada. I’m not sure why we have run into such polar opposites during
custom checks, but that Canada one was awesome. The next destination was the
Holiday Inn, we both wanted to rest. After another long walk, we arrived at the
hotel very close to passing out of sleepiness. I laid on my bed and thought
about the day we just had. I was on the water, right next to the water, above
the water, and underneath the water; I did it all and was left speechless. What
an incredible journey all in one day. We took an hour to just relax and
recuperate and then we were right back to it. We went back over to the Niagra fantasyland
and played Dinosaur Adventure Land Mini Golf. This place was the ultimate mini
putt course with massive dinosaur sculptures, two full 18-hole courses to
choose from, and a giant volcano that shot real fire from it opening.
Unfortunately, there were a few parties in front of us with a lot of people, so
we did a lot of waiting. We then walked across the street to the Ripley’s
Believe it Or Not and had a lot of fun there. One of the rooms is very dark
with a moving cylinder that has a few polka dotted lines on it and a bridge.
Your objective is to walk as straight as possible across the bridge, but the
spinning cylinder surrounding you makes you fall to one side or the other.
Thankfully my hunger kicked in and Haley decided to go get food. We ate
mediocre chicken from Burger King in a grass field next to our hotel. “It’s 10
o’clock mommy, fireworks!” shrieked a little girl next to us. Almost instantly
after she said that, the sky lit up with the sound of a cannon. At nighttime
there are lights that light up Niagra Falls all different colors and that night
was special because there was a firework show also. This firework show was the
best I have ever seen. It was elaborate and very loud as the explosions
happened directly above the Gorge allowing them to echo all over. The fireworks
were shot from inside the water off a boat and were aimed in the direct center
of the Gorge. The finale finished and everybody cheered, and unlike the United
States the cheers didn’t end in “CAN-A-DA, CAN-A-DA”. The night was done and we
walked back to the hotel where we talked and hung out until we fell asleep.
This trip was short, but it gave me open eyes to the world around me and helped
me realize that I am so small and God is so big for making all of this beauty
around me. Canada, you were great.
The next
morning came abruptly, and with it came gloomy skies and sprinkling rain; this
weather was fitting for my departure. Haley and I both stumbled out of bed and
packed our things still half-asleep. We then walked to the mini-mart with our
things and grabbed breakfast. The nutritious breakfast of Corn Pops and Donuts
really hit the spot. The hotel called our taxi, and the next thing I know, we
are stopped in Niagra Falls, New York for inspection and Customs. The next hour
was similar to the very tense movie scenes you never thought were real. A team
of six men and a dog boarded the train. Each wearing bulletproof vests and a
multitude of weapons. “Wake up, it’s time for inspection.”
“Make way,
inspection time.”
They alarmed every sleeping
passenger like a schoolteacher would had a kid fallen asleep during a lecture. They
started in the front car by dismissing everybody for paperwork check. While
they were getting their papers checked, one team of three and the dog scanned,
sniffed, and searched the entire first car collecting things in a large Ziploc
bag. I had nothing to be nervous about, but their stern demeanor and
professional attitude was very intimidating. It was our turn, and it was very
smooth. We returned and all bags still remained in the same spot. The next 10
or 12 hours was boring and consisted of movies, internet, and sleep. A few
times I was awaken by the conductor voice, “This station is a ‘get off and
stretch’ station.” Before I could stand, his voice continued, “That means you
can get off and get a quick smoke if you need it.” I sat back down. Cigarette
smoke is something I can’t stand. Clearly, New York is far from smoke-free, but
I usually manage to avoid the toxicity that the cancer sticks by walking
through parks and staying away from Times Square.
In 2006 my dad passed away from a
pulmonary embolism; he smoked too much. Ever since that day, cigarette smoke
has brought me bad memories and quick headaches. So when I talk about the lady
in front of me, I do it with the most respect I can.
The passenger in front of me had
her kid and husband with her, but even still she took full advantage of the
“smoke station”. When she came back on the train, she reeked of smoke. As she
got closer, the stench grew unbearable, so I covered my face and waited it out.
She sat right next to her kid and proceeded to hug and kiss him. With her
contaminated lips she inadvertently passed him a small dosage of her smoke that
would cloud his lungs, maybe only a small amount, but still adding to what she
may have already done. Clearly she is comfortable enough to hug him after
smoking, so that shows she has either smoked with him around before or done
that same action more than once. Secondhand smoke is a very real concern.
Forget the other passengers if you want; forget me even; it’s her child you
should be concerned with.
After the feelings passed, the train
started back up and I fell back asleep waking up only for my sister needing to
use the restroom. After twelve hours of train riding in one day, we arrived at
Penn Station where we would hop on a few metro trains and get home. We ordered
Thai to be delivered to the apartment. Thai food was exactly what my body
wanted. I ate so much that my body entered shut down mode. I stood up to use
gravity as a digestion assistant and received a phone call from my girlfriend.
I went downstairs to talk outside. Once the call had concluded I looked at the
keys I picked up from the table, and began inserting each of the four keys
multiple times to no avail. Little did I know, I had grabbed the wrong set of
keys. I called my sister, no answer. I looked at the time, and was surprised to
see that it was one in the morning. She must have fallen asleep because my
phone call was so long. There I was, a Texas native locked out of a Brooklyn
apartment complex at one in the morning with no available help. I walked up and
down the block trying to find a way to get to the fire exit, no luck. Fifteen
minutes passed and panic struck. Was I really about to sleep outside? How did
this happen? I didn’t have shoes, keys, or a person to call. For whatever
reason, I called my mom back in Texas and she calmed me down enough to realize
that I must have grabbed the wrong keys. Mid-call, Haley called me and came
down to open the door for me. What an eventful night. Still, I had a lot to
thank God for that night and that put me at ease. Tomorrow I was going back to
Texas.
Another morning came much faster
than expected when Smudge, Haley’s dog jumped on me and woke me up with the
cliché face licks. I stood up and packed my things and showered while Haley
walked the dog. Haley decided that we would go to Peter Pan’s Donut Shop on Manhattan
Avenue and then eat them on the new pier by an East Side Ferry dock. We had a
beautiful view of New York City’s skyline that morning. It was then when I
realized that all the cigarette smoke, car emissions, cussing, and sketchy
neighborhoods were all part of this beautiful city. My view that morning looked
like a painting, it was so surreal. We left the pier very happy and full of
donuts. The last stop before the airport was Brooklyn Industries.
This clothing store was opened in
1998 by Lexy Funk and her partner to sell clothes that were designed around the
industrialization of Brooklyn. Today, there are 16 retail stores and an online
website. What a great store it was too. I’ve never been inside of one; I’ve
only received clothes from BI during Christmas or my birthday, so when I left
with a jacket, pair of shorts, two shirts, and socks, my sister was not
surprised. When we got home, I repacked my suitcase and we were on our way.
I was happy to leave the New York
traffic, but not my sister or the city she calls home. We hugged, said our
loving goodbyes, and parted. Security was a breeze and the wait was wonderful
with a custom burger and vanilla shake, all that remained was the flight home.
I always had great flights; in fact, none of my flights had ever been
problematic, until this one. The first problem was a 30-minute delay from the
previous airport, then the plane arrived late, after servicing the plane, we
boarded about 20 minutes after the scheduled time. I felt good still because I
was in no rush, but then La Guardia Airport closed the runway we were waiting
on, so we had to wait for other planes to takeoff and land before we could taxi
over to the other side of the runway. A little over an hour passed since I saw
the pilot get on the plane, and we weren’t going anywhere. Finally, the engine
roared and the plane picked up speed. We were headed home. The flight itself
was fast and harmless. I prayed a lot during the flight home; I thanked God for
the beautiful land He created and the trip He opened up for me. This trip truly
helped me feel the mighty power of our God in Heaven.
I encourage you to travel whenever
you can, knowing that there is a huge world around you filled with things
you’ve never seen or understood, isn’t that exciting. “We travel not to escape
life, but for life not to escape us.”
