My husband Aron was given a ride in a glider—a motor-less flight—out of Williams, California, for his birthday… two years ago. He finally went up last fall, and I asked him if he’d write about it.
As a child driving to San Francisco, I would often see gliders along the way and imagined someday that I would fly in one—listening only to the sound of the wind as I flew over the ground. But when I was given a ride as a birthday gift, I was nervous. I have a family, we were about to have a baby, and there’s no thrill in unnecessary risk right now. But I did some research, and learned that soaring is regarded as being just as safe as most other adventure sports; I shouldn’t let anxiety guide me. With my right brain doing the talking, I booked a date and, having done so, felt surprisingly more relaxed.
I was committed and that was probably a good thing: it was a little bit crazy to see the gliders along the “runway” at the glide center. They look so unsubstantial. More so when you see that the glider is simply towed behind a propeller plane via an ordinary looking rope attached to hook, before its release a few thousand feet in the air. I expected something more high-tech: a steel cable wrapped in a bionic coating or something. I couldn’t decide if it was refreshingly simple, or nerve-wrackingly so. I tried not to think about it too much, and before I knew it our glider was lifting off the ground. In an instant, my nerves were calmed.
The next thrill happened when we released the the rope at 5000 feet. The plane banked left, we banked right, and were on our own. It turns out that “nothing but the sound of wind” is actually quite loud; but it was amazing to bank and turn in such a small plane. After slowly banking left and right, I told the pilot that I was ready for some more aggressive maneuvers. My favorites were stalling after a climb and then entering a steep dive—steep enough that I floated up off my seat, as did all of the dirt on the floor, and my camera on my lap. It reminded me of those free falls you do on drop rollercoasters, only the pulling up lasted much longer!
At around 2000 feet, we tried to come close to a vulture—but he buzzed off. Apparently eagles and hawks—having no natural predators, will let you get quite close, and sometimes will even try to attack the glider for coming into their air space!
It was an amazing thing to get to do, and I would happily do it again. But it also felt pretty great returning to my family who were waiting on the ground.
They had been burning rice fields nearby on the day Aron went up, so visibility was less than it can be, but the folks at Williams Soaring Center said that on clear days you can see Mount Shasta in the distance. Has anyone else been up in a glider? My stomach did a little flip just driving up, but I can imagine some amazing landscapes one could enjoy from this perspective. Thank you, Aron!
In “5 Things,” I’ll ask some of my favorite bloggers in cities all over the country to share insider travel tips on where to eat, shop, stay, and play in their neighborhoods (plus, what to pack to make the adventure complete). This week, Anna Burns of Dear Friend shows us what’s not to be missed in Boston.
It’s no secret that Boston is my favorite city. I moved here just after graduating college—almost 10 years ago to be exact—and I haven’t looked back since.
Just two hours from Portland, Maine, and even less to parts of the Cape and Rhode Island, you could easily find yourself enjoying a day trip to the beach in the summer or hiking the White Mountains of New Hampshire in the fall.
The city of Boston is known for being the walking city—most areas are completely accessible by foot or by train, and if you’re in a pinch, there’s always an Uber around, too. We’ve got great history, the best seafood, and, without a doubt, charm and beauty at every corner (if you know where to look).
When in Boston, eating seafood is a must. And oysters? The best! Try Neptune Oyster on Salem Street in the North End for the coziest, most delicious dinner this side of the Charles River. With only a handful of tables and a bar that’s always packed, the wait for this place can certainly be significant—but it’s worth it! Put your name in, walk around Hanover Street, get yourself a cannoli (Modern Pastry is my personal favorite), or a drink at Bricco or Lucca. Then come back to Neptune when a seat opens up (they’ll call you on your cell to let you know). Once inside, enjoy the warm light and a glass of wine, then decide which dishes strike your fancy. I highly recommend the buttermilk johnnycake and the hot Maine lobster roll. Everything is just so good—you will absolutely love this place.
“Reply-all will be the death of me.” I read that somewhere the other day, perhaps on a satirical greeting card about office life? It resonated. My inbox is out of control.
And I’m not alone.
Nearly 30% of our workweek is apparently spent reading and responding to email, a figure which may or may not also take into account personal email. Over the summer I read a New York Times article enitled “End the Tyranny of 24/7 Email.” Yes, I thought, the “tyranny!” (I proudly resisted the urge to forward it to Aron, and instead told him about it over dinner.)
I’ve thought about the article, which started by describing an email policy at German automaker Daimler, many times since: “employees can set their corporate email to ‘holiday mode.’ Anyone who emails them gets an auto-reply saying the employee isn’t in, and offering contact details for an alternate, on-call staff person.” Nothing so revolutionary so far, right? But wait: “Then poof, the incoming email is deleted—so that employees don’t have to return to inboxes engorged with digital missives in their absence.” Deleted! If you need urgent help, you have someone to contact. But most people don’t.
If email lands in your inbox when you’re off work or on vacation, you’re likely to read it. One could argue that it’s on the recipient to manage his or her own time, but the article talks about shifting some of the responsibility back to the sender with talk of how over-use of “cc” often masks bad management or poor decision-making skills. (Insert image of me nodding and reading.)
The problem is the addiction-potential of email: an article in The Guardian likens it to gambling and quotes that “it takes an average of 64 seconds to recover your train of thought after interruption by email. So people who check their email every five minutes waste 8.5 hours a week figuring out what they were doing moments before.”
That’s right: most of us spend hours trying to remember what it was we were just doing. Every week. Yikes.
James Hamblin, at The Atlantic‘s Video site (one of my favorite places online these days), has a humorous solution: the Cool button. His fantastic segment “Email is Ruining Us” proposes that what we need is a “like” button for email. This would cover acknowledging receipt, doling out praise, and such. It could stand-in for what would probably be a smile or even laughter. In other words, I could reply to a PR pitch with “Got it! Cool!” with a single button.
My father-in-law (I hope he won’t mind me sharing) used to reply to many emails with the phrase “Noted.” I envied his brevity and lamented to Aron, once, that as a young person (and a female one), I fear the interpretation would be less than positive should I do the same.
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Ultimately, the task of managing my inbox falls to me. I’m going to be working on unsubscribing from listservs and using more categories and rules in my inbox. And I just set up a FAQ page for the blog!
Here’s some some etiquette I wish we could all take endeavor to adopt, based on my own personal pet peeves. Ask oneself:
Are you forwarding items from a subscription service? That someone else could choose to subscribe to? Think twice.
Are you doing them a favor by sending that message? Or are you just absolving yourself from the duty of remembering to tell them later?
Does everyone want their email address shared? Use the Bcc field when sending a message to a large group rather than Cc.
Do you need a reply? If not, use the phrase FYI in the subject line. No reply saying “Got it!” required.
Have you given the recipient adequate time to reply before re-sending? (Re-sent press releases are enemy #1 around in my books.)
Have you tried Googling that?
What would you add? How do you deal with inbox tyranny? What are your pet-peeves? Spill. Get it all out.
P.S. Lest I sound like a curmudgeon, or worse a hypocrite, a caveat: I do, in fact, like getting personal emails, and I probably fail at all this myself on a regular basis. Also, more Thinking About columns.
