Outdoor Adventures

Summer has arrived—let the vacation planning begin. Given that I have considerably more time than money these days, I'm looking forward to taking at least a couple of camping and hiking trips between now and Labor Day. Lacing up a pair of boots and slinging an internal frame pack on your back isn't everyone's idea of a good time, but if an outdoor adventure happens to be the type of holiday you have in mind, then check out the current issue of TravelMuse Magazine online.

I contributed two features: Sleeping Under the Stars, a guide to planning a camping vacation, as well as Zion National Park Centennial, which covers some of the events and a few of the top attractions you can expect to find on a summer visit to this part of southern Utah.

Plan-it!Trip plans by TravelMuse

The King of Hop

As far as celebrity and comestibles go, Michael Jackson, who passed away in late 2007 after a long battle with Parkinson's Disease, defined an entire genre. He was the Alice Waters of ale, the James Beard of beer, or as I prefer to call him, the King of Hop. Particularly in the 1980s and 90s, no single person did more to champion the brewed beverage served by the pint, can, or bottle.

And that guy could get around. Traveling far and wide from his native Yorkshire to catalog, classify, and compare beers, he wrote the proverbial book on the subject while contributing articles to newspapers and magazines in the process. Since I was on my way to Scandinavia when I learned of Mr. Jackson's death, I decided to visit the Norwegian establishments listed in his Pocket Guide to Beer. I'd been to Norway twice before, but this time I convinced myself that I had a new purpose.

The recommendations he gives in the guide indicated to me that he hadn't ventured much beyond the capital, which was OK, because retracing his footsteps would then be that much easier. Disappointed to find that the Studenten Cafe was now a Hard Rock Cafe, I kept walking and ended up at Lorry, one of the oldest restaurants in Oslo.

"The Aass is done," a large bartender informed me, referring to the draft line, so I opted for the dark, toasty Mack Bok (6.5% ABV) followed by a similar Frydenlund Bok (6.5% ABV). Pairing nicely with my reindeer burger and lingonberries, each bottle was 53 kroner. But the service didn't impress me nearly as much as their eclectic decor. Chock-a-block with "antiques" from Europe, Asia, and Africa, Lorry also claims to have Norway's largest collection of stuffed animals. Because who hasn't wanted to dine under a taxidermic giraffe? The real reason to go, of course, is the beer list: nearly two dozen Norwegian brews appear alongside a range of styles from 26 other countries.

A short distance away on Bogstadveien, the Oslo Mikrobryggeri may be a more exciting destination for beer nerds though; it's the city's only brewpub. During my visit they were pouring a Pils, a Steamer, a Bitter, a London Porter, an Imperial Stout, as well as a Sesongøl. The pub opens daily at three except Saturdays when they welcome imbibers at 12 p.m. sharp. If you arrive in the afternoon as my friends and I did, you'll have the place to yourself, which means unhindered access to their "flavoursome ales and stouts" to quote from Mr. Jackson's description.

Words and Guitar

"How's the sauna?" the tall, bearded man asked the crowd that had squeezed into a Brooklyn basement on a rainy night in early May. He smiled, maneuvering his lanky frame around the microphones and vases of cut flowers assembled on stage to sit at a toy piano. To his left, a small woman in bright red dress put down a glass of wine and positioned herself on another stool.

And then Ólöf Arnalds began to sing. The forty or so listeners fell silent at once, leaning forward on their wooden benches so as not to miss a single lyric or a passing note struck by her nimble fingers as they moved across the fretboard of her acoustic guitar. She sang in Icelandic, she sang in English, and during the second song, she sang in unison with the audience, heightening the intimacy of the candlelit performance space beneath Sycamore.

I wasn't entirely sure that I'd like Ólöf when I boarded a Q train bound for Ditmas Park, but her delicate folk music and friendly banter won me over. "I don't want to talk about politics and all that boring stuff," she promised at one point during her set. Keeping true to her word, she introduced a new song entitled "Surrender," by explaining that it was about women. While I found the vocal melody memorable and especially plaintive, my favorite numbers were actually another original called "Crazy Car," and a somewhat rough but still charming cover of Caetano Veloso's "Maria Bethania." Oh, and speaking of Scandinavian songwriters, my review of Theresa Andersson's television debut appears in the current issue of Nordic Reach.
Photo by Brittney Bush Bollay for KEXP

All Geared Up

Well, the rain appears to have relented here in New York City—at least temporarily—the weekend forecast calls for more showers. But I'll take the reprieve, however brief. After four straight days of gray skies and wet streets, even a few hours of morning sun is enough lift your spirits and get you out of the house. Especially during National Bike Month.

I haven't taken my 12-speed out for a spin around the neighborhood yet this spring, but I'm a firm believer in a bicycle friendly America, and often pedal to points of interest in Europe. It's a fun, easy way to practice sustainable tourism, and one more thing you can do to make sure part of your travel budget is going back to the local community.

During a recent visit to Cornwall for instance, I rented a Trek for £10 at The Cycle Centre and took it from Penzance to Land's End and back. I thoroughly enjoyed the ride itself, and didn't feel the least bit guilty about ordering extra bacon with my English breakfast the next day.