As we prepared for a cruise through one of China’s most scenic areas, the Li River in Guilin, I was initially terribly disappointed at the heavy traffic lining up at the docks and the mad rush to board.  How could this be the surreal experience that was advertised?  This was supposed to be one of the most beautiful places for Dave.  All I read was that it was a favorite of poets and artists.  How could I experience the beauty and calm of the area with bumper-to-bumper boat traffic on the river?  How could my pictures convey a special place for Dave?

As we left the docks my expectations were pretty low, but I was happily surprised to see how the sharp bends of the river served as a screen from the other boats. It felt as if we were alone on the river.  I gradually understood the connection that poets and artists had with this beautiful place.

The steep dramatic limestone formations shot high into the blue sky. Water buffalos lumbered along  the shore while a few enjoyed a leisurely dip in the river.  A grandmother, grandfather, and grandson took a quick rest on the shore’s edge watching and waving at the boat while cormorants sunned themselves on a log in the water.  It definitely was surreal.

One of the most beautiful places on the Li is The Painted Hill of the Seven Horses.  Legend says that the horses were in heaven and came to earth secretly to drink the water of the beautifil Lijiang.  An artist saw them and wanted to paint them.  They became spooked and ran wildly into the cliffs where they remain a part of the cliffs forever.  It is definitely a beautiful place, but no matter how hard I look, I can’t see the horses!  In this beautiful place is where I sprinkled Dave’s ashes.

The passengers on the boat kept wondering aloud why there were so many butterflies on the boat.  I just smiled to myself  because  I knew why they were there.

Being one of the most beautiful places in China is certainly a place worthy of Dave!

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A river cruise down the Yangtze–something I never could have imagined in my wildest childhood dreams! The Yangtze was in my geography and history books; a faraway place that seemed like another planet.  Who could have imagined that someday I’d be cruising down this historical river?

Now if it were Dave taking this trip, he’d want to sail down the river in a sampan Chinese Junk boat with a boatload of old, chain-smoking, toothless Chinese men.  Me?  A little comfort doesn’t hurt the experience!

We had been told that the view had drastically changed due to the purposeful flooding of the Yangtze River to prepare for the construction of the Three Gorge’s Dam and that the Gorges had lost most of their charm. But as we cruised away from the dock and the muddy waters of the Yangtze, we were pleasantly surprised to see the water color changing to a beautiful green and were wonderfully impressed by the dramatic vistas before us. There was no mistaking we were in China with the little villages dotting the mountainsides and the farmers along the riverside wearing modernized coolie hats.

I spread Dave’s ashes in a unique and beautiful place; the Wu Gorge at Goddess Peak.  It is a very well-known and starkly beautiful rock formation in the Yangtze River / Three Gorges.  As I sprinkled his ashes, I was once again overwhelmed to be in such an exotic place for Dave…in the green, green, waters of the Yangtze River in the middle of China! Of course, during the course of cruising along this area, several black butterflies flitted by.

There’s a myth that the Goddess watches over the boatmen on the river. Maybe now she’ll also watch over Dave.
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The Great Wall of China!  I can’t believe I actually completed the journey that Dave and I planned to do together.  Of course, his idea of traveling in China included trekking through the country and maybe staying awhile to teach English.  I said (tongue in cheek with a heavy sigh) “Sure Dave, that’s a great idea.  If something happened to you, I’d never know it.  Why not settle on just traveling there first.”  I told Dave that he was the reason I had most of my gray hair!  “Ya gotta live, Ma.  Ya gotta experience stuff.”

So, I went to China, but forging ahead alone in such a foreign country was not in the cards for me.  Sorry, Dave, but I had to take a tour for this one.

In my journal, I wrote, “As we neared the entrance to The Wall, I felt the emotions get the best of me–like when we approached Mt. McKinley.  Dave was supposed to make these trips and it just really hurts that I am seeing these spectacular places and it should be Dave; not me.  He’s the one who had such plans to travel the world.  I know he looked forward to this trip because he mentioned it to his friends and even, Jess, his buddy on the Survival Course.  I sure hope he was sitting on my shoulder!”

It wasn’t easy to climb The Wall. I huffed and puffed as I climbed the steep steps (and this was the “Easy Route!)  Part of the problem is that the steps differ in height so it throws off your cadence whether you’re going up or down.

There were other beautiful places in China where I sprinkled Dave’s ashes, but The Great Wall was the most special. 

It was something we planned to do together.
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The storm clouds gathered as we headed north for our visit to the Giant’s Causeway; not just the usual passing shower kind of clouds, but the I’m-sticking-around type of rain clouds. We had been hoping for beautiful snapshots and now the rain was going to take all the pop out of our pictures. I should have known by now that Ireland weather likes to play with you–sunny, rainy, sunny, rainy. And that’s what happened again! We walked in the rain for awhile and then the sun came out with double-decker rainbows. Everything was fresh and green and brilliant!

The Causeway is an amazing rock formation along the shore. The rock columns are the result of an ancient volcanic eruption. The sea “instantly” cooled the rocks into their current hexagonal shape. From a distance they appear to be cigarettes standing on end. As unusual and striking as the formation is, we found the surrounding area to be even more beautiful and awe-inspiring. It had it all; the angry sea crashing on the rocks, the calm blue coves with the sea gently lapping the shore, the sheer cliffs, and the expansive green pastures with cattle, sheep and horses. It had been as spectacular as Mt McKinley—just in a different way.

It was a magnificent place to once again spread some of Dave’s ashes.

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In researching for the most interesting places to visit in No. Ireland, I ran across the website for the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge.  The pictures of it were beautiful, but it definitely caused my stomach to flip at the thought of whether I could actually cross this rope bridge, which is almost 100 feet above the rocky, angry waves below.

The hike to the bridge was beautiful in itself, but as we rounded the bend to see the rope bridge, Rob, Bob, Jan, and I took a few deep, nervous breaths before we headed to the bridge.  We were a bit (actually, MORE than a bit) concerned because we had been told that the wind was very strong that day and the bridge could possibly be closed if the winds increased.  Seeing the swaying bridge caused some people to change their minds at the last minute.  But we anxiously moved on.

We had to carefully place one foot in front of the other while tightly holding the rope railings.  However, I clutched Dave’s ashes in my right fist so I could only rest my fist on the rope. The wind was buffeting us tremendously.  Once over the water, I opened my hand and instantly clutched the railing.  How exhilarating once we reached the other side!  The view was indescribable–the blue, blue water, the clear blue sky, wildflowers growing on the cliff sides.  The only problem was we had to walk back. Gulp!

We were told that sometimes people finally make it across and were so frightened that they wouldn’t walk back so boats had to be sent to the island to pick them up.  If we had done that, Dave would’ve hung his head in shame at such a “wussie” family.

Friends exclaimed, “What, are you crazy!!  You wouldn’t catch me doing that.”  I can only recall how many times I said those words to Dave. 

Well, Dave, I hope we did you proud.

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After the wonderful McAteer reunion, we spent our remaining days in No. Ireland discovering some of the most beautiful places. Among the things we wanted to do was to hike — at least once– in the Mourne Mountains, but we didn’t have a clue where to start. 

When the owner of the cottage heard our plight, his twenty-something daughter (who RUNS in the mountains) offered to be our guide to discover Slieve Martin in Rostrevor Forest.  (Dave would have approved of our guide.)

As we climbed past Fiddler’s Green, where music festivals are held, it began to rain–of course!  A day without rain in Ireland would be a miracle. But when the sun does come out, you realize that it’s worth a little rain to get the most amazing rainbows and the greenest of green landscapes.

As we reached the Cloughmore Stone, the sun came out. (Our “angels” were once again watching out for us!)  It was a beautiful view of Carlingford Lough with the Republic of Ireland on the far shore.  But the most beautiful part of this spot was the mountainside of different shades of violet heather.  It was absolutely spectacular and soooo Irish!!  There also was the amusing tale of how the rock arrived at this spot; the giant, Finn McCool, tossed the rock at his enemies and this is where is landed.

It was here in fields of heather and fragrant wildflowers of fireweed and milkweed that I sprinkled Dave’s ashes near a smaller rock off the path; a spot worthy of Dave.

We continued climbing amongst oak, ash, cypress, douglas fir, and hemlocks. In the open fields, the subtle heather was everywhere creating beautiful splashes of violet.

We climbed and rested and climbed and rested some more until we reached the top.  The winds buffeted us every which way, but the climb was definitely worth the view before us…a patchwork of little Irish towns and rolling hills.  At the peak is where Dave’s ashes were swept from my hand by the wind.  They literally took flight in every direction.

As we headed down the mountain, we were mesmerized by the brilliant green that surrounded us.  There were immense beds of clover and ferns. Even  some the tree trunks were covered in green moss.   With these surroundings, I half-expected a leprechaun to jump out at us.  It was a surreal  descent.

The winds of Ireland may have taken Dave’s ashes wherever it wanted, but no matter where they landed, I guarantee it was a beautiful place

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The McAteer Reunion was something I wanted to do for over ten years, but life had a way of preventing me from going to each one.

When Dave and I marched in the St. Patrick’s Parade in 2006, we talked about the next reunion and how I really wanted to go, but didn’t have anyone interested in going with me.  When Dave said he would go with me, I happily looked forward to the next reunion.  Just a few months later, Dave was gone.

The reunion was a distant thought until I started receiving information about the McAteer World Gathering to be held in Ballyholland, No. Ireland. I then sadly remembered Dave’s promise.  I was truly uplifted when Rob, Bob and Jan agreed to go along with me. now

Dave would’ve loved this trip. We stayed in a little Irish cottage on the lush, green mountainside of the Mourne Mountains; mountains that were prone to daily rainbows; many double-decker beauties.  The Sitka pine blanketed the mountainside with horses and sheep dotting the landscape. There were beautiful wildflowers everywhere.  Despite the wind and cool temperatures, the tenacious Irish butterflies would sun themselves on our windowsill like little soldiers. 

No matter where we went in the countryside, the view was amazing, but none more spectacular than our own McAteer ancestral home.  The acres and acres of rolling farmland with cows, horses,  and sheep were separated only by hedges.  I sprinkled some of Dave’s ashes in the trees a few feet from the remains of the actual foundation of the McAteer ancestral home.  This spot overlooks the enchanting view of the expansive McAteer countryside.  (See picture above)

Dave met the fun-loving McAteers in New York, but he would’ve loved them even more on their own turf.  The McAteers love to party and we all know how Dave loved to party, too!  We had many laughs with our distant cousins, but knowing how easy-to-know Dave was,  I just know he would’ve made friends for life.

When the reunion ended, we continued our travels and discovered more spectacular places for Dave.  Stay tuned for more postings.

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Dave was stationed on Andros Island, Bahamas for a year. For quite some time now, Andros had been one of the destinations I hoped to travel to remember Dave.  A short flight from Nassau, Andros is the largest island in the Bahamas, yet the least populated. The island is located near the third largest barrier reef in the world, along the Tongue of the Ocean, where depths reach 6,000 feet in certain areas. 

Since Rob had great memories of scuba diving with Dave in Greece and Dave ultimately becoming a certified diver while in the Marshall Islands, what better way to remember Dave than for Rob to place a memorial under the sea!! Rob loved the idea because it was so different from anything else we had done to remember Dave.  Rob remembered Dave saying that diving was “almost like being in space.”  

The memorial consisted of a plaque that Cori and Ara contributed, a small piece of imitation coral that Rob hollowed out to hold Dave’s ashes, and for all of Dave’s friends, Scuba Steve.  At first, Rob wasn’t too sure about the Scuba Steve addition, but afterward commented that it was a good idea and that it added a bit of humor for Dave’s friends who smile at the story.

The morning was warm and sunny as we headed out to the Elkhorn Park snorkeling/dive site.  Lorne, the master diver, accompanied Rob while videotaping the scene.  Rob swam down to the ocean floor looking for the perfect site to place Dave’s plaque, coral and Scuba Steve.  He decided on a spot by a striking grouping of orange coral.  Rob was especially happy with the area because it is a popular dive site where many people will see Dave’s memorial.  He had to smile watching Scuba Steve “bobbin’ around down there.”  We’re sure Scuba Steve will break away and make his journey into the unknown–just like Dave.

We couldn’t leave Andros without visiting the AUTEC Naval Base where Dave was stationed.  We were fortunate that the contact person on the base remembered Dave.  Since the base is accessible only if escorted by a family member or friend, we were so grateful that Rhonda W. agreed to be our “friend” and personally give us a tour of the base.  She pointed out where Dave’s living quarters were, where he played soccer, went to the movies, and the beach he most likely wrote his poem, CROSSROADS. It was great seeing where Dave lived during his tour.  But most importantly, knowing that Rhonda remembered Dave “as being a friendly guy who always had a smile and was always willing to do what was needed to be done” meant the world to me.  They were sorry that he was leaving at the end of his tour.  Being that AUTEC is a restricted base, we were unable to take pictures, but that’s ok, because the pictures are permanently etched in my memory.

Well, our mission was accomplished.  It was time to leave.  We once again said our good-byes to Dave as we left a little bit of Dave under the sea off Andros Island.  I always blink back the tears as each new place falls in the distance.  I am so proud of doing this ‘for Dave,’ but I know I’m also doing it for me.  There are no goodie cartons to mail, Christmas and birthday gifts that I can give.  There’s no helping hand that I can extend to him.  There’s just these special ways I can remember him.  It helps me.  It makes me feel like I’m doing “something.”  I don’t know what else I can do.  There are over 20 places where we’ve “remembered Dave” and we’ve only just begun. 

Dave, are you watching?

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