The Bend Ale Trail is a no-joke way to check out the city’s incredible, famous beer scene. This trail comes with its own “passport” including 22 breweries with a little reward after you visit five.

I knew there was no way I’d make it to 22, so I ventured out with a goal of seven breweries, putting my maximum goal at 10 beers on the Bend Ale Trail.

After beer two, a friend bet I wouldn’t make it past number four.

I cannot get enough of the Wildlife Safari in Winston, Oregon.

I’ll be honest, I usually struggle a bit in zoo-like environments. As an adult, with some of the places I’ve visited, I’ve felt that the animals were sad. Sometimes malnourished. Other times seemingly mistreated.

Not here, under any circumstance, in any case.

Everyone told me I was crazy for wanting to travel with a dog. If I had thought traveling alone was hard, how was it going to be when I had a pet? How often would I stop? Where was I going to stay? What if I couldn’t find anything dog-friendly?The questions were endless, but I was determined.

I’d chosen the Travelodge in the city center of Sacramento for two nights. One night was meant to celebrate St. Patrick's Day with my friend, Megan. The other was to see the capitol building and meet up with my friend Morgan to take our dogs on a walk.

Imagine a valley tucked inside of the mountains that stretches as far as your eyes can see. Inside that valley, everywhere you look, thin trails of water stream down rocky cliffsides. As your eyes wander across those rocks, they find a dome that’s cut in half, facing one of the largest rock walls on the planet. Welcome to Yosemite Valley

While I prepared for my trip from California, I thought the mere celebration of my birthday in a foreign country was excitement enough. I didn’t think too much about what I wanted to do, for I thought I’d never be without activity. At that, wherever I would be was better than where I was, so why worry?

I had three WWOOFing experiences during my time in Aotearoa, but I must admit, Gilly's involvement in the third one made it the best.

All three experiences occurred in close quarters with each other, but I’d arranged the final one before I left California.

I was initially contacted by Ruth, who I’m insistent is one of the kindest souls I’ve ever encountered. After my week with her, she arranged for me to help out at the Stubbs’ farm.

When I told my bus driver I was hopping off in Waitomo, he responded, “Why? The only thing to do there is Blackwater Rafting. You’ll be bored out of your mind, but good luck.”

I didn’t let his negativity sway me. He didn’t know about the connections I had in Waitomo who assured my lack of boredom.

To my surprise, hardly anyone else knew this was a filming location for Narnia. I didn’t realize I’d be the only one excited about that aspect, but no matter. The mind of the fantasy author is not one to be questioned or tampered with, and just as I did as a child through the forests of Yosemite, my mind took me into the world of Narnia.

A week wasn’t a week in New Zealand unless accompanied by at least one major mental breakdown. Each meltdown came in waves, and fear always acted as its driving force. I’d suffered through Auckland and feared I wouldn’t enjoy the trip — only to find the Williams. I then got comfortable at their residence until it came time to face the fears again.

During my research about ways to save money in New Zealand, I found Willing Workers on Organic Farms, or “WWOOFing.”

Part of the comfort zone I stepped out of coming to New Zealand revolved around my work life. I knew how to do what I was familiar with, but I wanted to learn what else was out there.

My original plan upon arrival in New Zealand was to check into the hostel, buy a ticket for the Sky Tower, and jump off of it.

I even booked my hostel right next to the Sky Tower so I wouldn’t get lost.

People didn’t think I could survived this trip, and I wanted to make a statement, start bold and do something that evoked adrenaline and proved I could do whatever I wanted.

The day I left for New Zealand, I woke to the sound of my mother vomiting.

My eyes snapped open.

Oh no… She won’t be able to see me off at the airport with Dad!

I detangled myself from my sheets and sprinted into the living room.

That problem intensified when I found Dad vomiting over the sink, as my mom had claimed the bathroom.

The night I changed my life, I turned out all the lights. I embraced the darkness that fought to keep me bound in chains, circled candles around me, and summoned forth enough light to be bathed, but not enough to be consumed. I sat with a beating heart, my mind alight with an unfathomable number of questions. How can I make a change to my life? How can I make the best of this broken heart? Why can’t I seem to find any happiness?