South Carolina

I believe I ended up here accidentally at the age of three. But my Mom planned the move just weeks before it happened, so I left the dry southern California climate and gradually acclimated to my jungle temperate home. I grew up in Conway, South Carolina. For eight years, I lived in Charleston. I played outside during the sweltering summers; I used q-tips to coat my mosquito bites in calamine lotion. My grandma taught me how to shell shrimp. When I decided to start running, a hobby that is impossible to quit, I ventured onto the pavement during the summer. I've endured 115 degree heat indexes--nearly vomited at the end of so many cross country and track races--but somehow stuck out 13 years of running over bridges, through swamps and forests. South Carolina is hot, but it's home. Its landscape is diverse and breathtaking, and its history is violent. I grew up along the Waccamaw River and remember watching snakes dangle from trees while drifting on a fishing boat with my uncle. Being aware of geometric shapes gliding along the surface of the water is where I learned to pay attention to details. While unsuspecting tourists may be awing at the Spanish Moss drifting in the wind, I keep my gaze fixated on the black water. At any given time, two circular objects may poke out of the black water, which are usually attached to an armored body. 

Hoh Rainforest

The Olympic Peninsula is home to the Olympic National Park. And within the park, is a temperate rainforest filled with lush green ferns, elk and a few tourists and families. Even during the summer, aka the Pacific Northewest's dry season, the Hoh Rainforest can see a few cool misty showers throughout the day. This peaceful trail is an easy hike with endless moss, ancient trees and streams that empty into the Hoh River. The trail is wide and flat which makes a quick hike doable for many visitors. I camped with a friend in nearby Forks, which is a great location for traveling to the rainforest and the coast. 

Enjoying a hike through the Hoh Rainforest in the Olympic National Park.

Costa Rica

After graduate school, I replaced my lost passport and boarded a plane with my best friend. For ten days, we strolled through the streets of San Jose, snapped photos of a sleeping sloth and ate raw coffee beans, chocolate, fish and mango smoothies. We stayed in a luxurious turn of the century home converted into an affordable bed and breakfast. We used public transportation, and I popped dissolvable travel sick tablets as our bus wound up and down through the clay and gravel roads that delivered us to the top of the clouds in the rain forest of Monte Verde. And we survived a food poisoning health scare that allowed us to stay one more day in our quaint beach side, air conditioned condo. We both agree that returning to Costa Rica indefinitely is the perfect retirement plan.