Photo Gallery: Kingman, AZ
I wouldn’t be afraid to recommend either both the Kingman KOA and Lotta Lou’s Cafe for a little breakfast and interesting / hilarious / odd conversation with the woman who works there.
A family's worth of wanderlusting.
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I wouldn’t be afraid to recommend either both the Kingman KOA and Lotta Lou’s Cafe for a little breakfast and interesting / hilarious / odd conversation with the woman who works there.
I’m so glad we got to cross the Hoover Dam (twice now) before they finish the bridge shown here, which will redirect cars away from the dam itself. It is a real load on an RV to get up and down that thing though…
Just a few simple shots…video to follow sometime soon.
Olivia posted this in Olivia's Diary, Personal Posts, Photos
In stark contrast to Nathan’s knees-up in Tahoe I’ve been taking chilling out to the extreme in Portland, with my good old friends Bsti and Niqkita of Sock Dreams. They live in a dreamy, lush neighbourhood, walking distance to unique coffee shops, divine antique stores, quirky bookshops, health stores and all kinds of apothecaries!! Their home is a haven for my slightly over-travelled soul, with a cozy bed up in the attic – a beautiful girly boudoir. I hardly took any pictures of what I got up to, but here’s a small collection of some great memories!
These photos are from the town my mom lives in, Ebensburg PA and Pittsburgh while the three of us couchsurfed away our Junetimes. Some of the cooler ones, if I may say so, are those of the old graveyard. When I was young, we lived on a farm and everyone within a 5 mile radius or so was related to us. It was a very old school, small farm kind of life and no fonder a memory do I have than riding BMX bikes through the dirt paths or making maps of the forests around the farm. While I was young, though, the cemetery was very overgrown and there were only really old gravestones, a handful of actual stones, mostly just wooden crosses mixed in with unmarked stones to indicate the death of a baby. The oldest marked stones dated back to the late 1800s, but no one had been laid to rest there in a few decades. It was this cool / tabboo area that no one really knew if we were allowed into or not, and was incredibly creepy. It’s spooky enough being out in endless fields and forests with stories of black bears and white vans, let alone add mossy old stones in a secret graveyard.
Eventually, my family cleaned it up when Uncle Alvie, who for some reason we all called Uncle Jed, died in a trucking accident. Later my grandparents were added when they passed on, and now it’s been completely resurrected as a well kept, beautiful piece of my ancestry, complete with a little grass path leading down from the old dirt road to Grandma’s.
We've lumped them together by event and tried to make them as easy to slideshow through as possible.
If you click on a thumbnail, the full-sized pic will pop up. At that point, you can click on the right or left of that picture to scroll through all of the pictures on the entire page.
Have fun, and remember...be safe.