A Compliation of Travels Lacking Detail

So yeah, I've mostly come away from this whole experience of travel writing with the notion that I do not like travel writing. Most of the places I've been to I was super young, dragged along by family and it is all a blur now. It's not that I'm lazy, or don't value details, I'd just rather write about music and movies.. Something I'm trying to get into at TNR. More music please..!

I've been inside the St. Louis Gateway Arch around the time I was a sophomore in high school and what I remember from that was how much bigger it was on the inside in comparison to the tiny pod we rode to get up there. I was hauntingly reminded of September 11th and occasionally thought to myself, "What if this thing is attacked next?" I don't remember the view outside of the arch, and I vaguely recall my father taking a picture of me while looking out the windows. We had traveled to Missouri to see family and go to a football game but this small detour made me feel super tourist-y. I kept looking up. My dad - ultra-tourist - carries around a video camera and camera in a bag across his shoulder and makes sure to embarrass us all just a bit with by taping us walking or a view. My dad isn't the kind of tourist who sports the ballcap with the city name on it or a Hawaiian tee-shirt; his vacations are pretty unique and relaxing. He does, however, love to get us all on the camera.... And then he posts it all over FaceBook with a small educational blurb as the caption. He keeps it classy while making sure everyone knows where he's been.
This is how the majority of my vacations go and this is why traveling will forever remind me of my dad. I always wonder what he would think about a place and I'm pretty on cue at sensing when he's about to pull out the camera.

See, I highly doubt my professor would consider any of this travel writing. It's profile stuff....
I just don't really have great retention in this brain of mine.. Something I'm trying to correct.

In a previous post I mentioned my fishing trip at the beach. On the road to the beach, there is only one thing I remember and that's the underwater tunnel. I was always so fascinated. I would watch for as long as we drove steadily into the abyss. I oddly felt safe as we drove through the dark concrete chasm that we were all aware was surrounded by insane amounts of salt-water. It could easily take us out if it so pleased.

I'm sorry, Jenny. This is just how it is. I love to travel. Not so much experience a place, but just go and move. And I move fast. Is there such thing as move-writing? The only time I really experience is when I go to a place, that forces me to go to another. Such as hiking.

not by me - courtesy to owner, you know who you are.

I was living in Asheville and my uncle suggested that I go to Triple Falls. This hike was short, nothing really grueling about it but there was a rather steep incline that neither me nor my friend were ready for. The dog seemed to mock us with how easily he scaled this trail. Once we descended again, the trail was short and we stepped on to rocks. High above us were two waterfalls and below us another. Triple Falls. They were nothing like Catawba, the little pools and the trickling water, no, these were huge, expansive and loud. I didn't know there could be such flows of water and I had to yell to talk to my friend right beside me. The mist glistened in the noon sunlight and I could see the faint colors of a rainbow in the rushing rapids. It was a lovely day. We sat on the rocks at ate some lunch while my dog frolicked in the forest and water. Had to lay out a towel for the beast to sit on as we drove home. It was a short hike, but memorable. Glad I had company and a dog.

Travel writing? Not my thing.