In early 2015, a group of my friends decided to hike up Mt. Whitney, a peak of 14,505 feet in the Eastern Sierras of California. The idea came from our buddy John Marsden. He often was the catalyst of our adventures, and he liked it when his friends could join him on these trips. Many of us in this circle of friends were hikers, and have even done hikes together.

Yes, of course, the four Central European capitals we visited on our Danube River Cruise with Grand Circle – Prague, Czech Republic, Vienna, Austria, Bratislava, Slovakia and Budapest, Hungary – all wrapped in wonder, overwhelmed with their impressive history, expansive promenades and architectural grandeur. But it was an experience in Linz in Upper Austria that most impacted me.

I have now been in Peru for more than a year and a half and find myself coasting along in Phase 4 of this roller coaster ride: “Acceptance.” This past February was a perfect example.

On your laps through the park, you’ve passed by the roller coaster a few times now. You’ve been waiting for this ride for years; last year you were too short to ride. This year you’re not sure you’ll have the courage, but you feel ready. You hop in line for the long wait, wondering if it will truly live up to the hype.

I joined Peace Corps knowing very little of what life or work would be like. Unlike some of my volunteer friends, I hadn’t dreamt of Peace Corps since I was little, and it was never part of some 10 year professional plan.

I imagine most of our lives are a series of awakenings. One of my big ones came during my later college days. By the time I entered my senior year at San Diego State I was a decent athlete and grades in school came easily. Actually, too easily. I spent much of my time at the beach when real students studied.

We all have times in our lives that we would describe as extraordinary moments. A day begins as normal and then suddenly something changes it. Today, I can barely tell this story without tears welling up in my eyes.

California is sometimes called the Granola State, the land of fruits, nuts, and flakes. I am from California, native-born. I guess I could just stop this chapter right now and you would understand why strange things gravitate to me.

I can’t remember how old I was. Maybe ten. It was a happy moment. His name was Pecky, my first and only parakeet. I played with him every day and loved that bird. But the day that will live in infamy was about to be played out. Like a giant locomotive rumbling into the station, the inevitable was approaching.

Another name for paradise is: Manitowish Waters, Wisconsin where I spent the last six days on holiday. My daughter, her family and I stayed at the home of her husband’s cousin Mike. He and his wife Nancy have lived in this wonderful home for decades. Mike cooks everything from soup to nuts as long as anyone is hungry.