Author Archives: Dan Goes Outside

I'm Dan, and this is One for the Road, a travel blog dedicated to all of my adventures and the moments in between. From National Parks and historic lighthouses to deep woods trail riding, muddy backroads, and nights spent camping beneath the stars, I'm always looking for the next adventure and the stories waiting to be told. I'm a filmmaker, explorer, and storyteller with a passion for history, the great outdoors, and the roads less traveled. Whether I'm wandering an old battlefield, exploring a forgotten piece of history, or getting my four-wheeler buried in the Florida mud, I believe every adventure has a story worth sharing. One for the Road is more than just a collection of places I've visited. It's about the experiences, the people, the memories, and those little moments that remind us how wonderful it is to be alive. Life is short, the world is big, and there's always another trail to explore. Thanks for coming along for the ride. God bless y'all, and don't forget to go outside!

Getting Lost in the Dallas World Aquarium

It was a cold and rainy day in Dallas when I made my way twenty minutes from the apartment I am currently staying in to the Dallas World Aquarium. The parking was a bit difficult but once I navigated the craziness of Dallas’ streets and parked I was surprised that the line getting into this aquarium stretched around the building, literally. Snaking its way through the alley and then finally reaching the entrance I was really surprised by how nice this place was. Just the entry itself was already impressive giving the feeling that you are walking into a jungle. Around you bamboos are roped together making homes for toucans and other brightly coloured and beautiful tropical birds. Their native calls filling the halls as we all lined up eagerly to enter. I was already getting excited and I knew it was not just me because Leonor was also getting really eager to see what was there to discover here.

When we made it past the cashier where we paid to get in we immediately see by the stairs taking you to the first level were a family of baby penguins. Just hanging out, three of them looking at us through the glass as we admired their beauty. One of them darting through the water. Those National Geographic shows are not joking, let me tell you, these birds are as fast as sports cars when they are underwater. I started going up the large spiral staircase and all of a sudden I found myself in a South American jungle. Complete with waterfalls, tropical birds, and even a tiny deer which I am sure was not a deer but looked like a deer if you shot it with that laser from “Honey I Shrunk the Kids”, what a great movie. If you haven’t seen it you have to give it a try.

Making our way through the jungle passing the waterfall looking down several stories into the heart of this portion of the aquarium we could see a large pool at the bottom with two enormous crocodiles in one area. At the top monkeys played and laughed alongside birds resting and singing in the trees. Making our way through a fog past the waterfall we approach several tanks containing brightly coloured poison dart frogs. Colours unimaginably bright: gold, turquoise, bright blue, and more. Crawling around on their leaves inside their tanks, sometimes taking a moment to see because they are about the size of a half dollar, give or take. We then passed by something that holds a very special place in my nightmares. As a boy growing up in a small town in Venezuela when my father was working there as a contractor were the stories about the anacondas. Huge snakes that have been known to eat large prey like deer, cattle, and even people. When I was hiking with my family in Canaima (may have spelt that wrong) the main thing the guide made cautioned us to be aware of the anaconda as they wait under the water and snatch their victims squeezing them to death.

Now, here before me this enormous snake, that almost looks too huge to possibly be real. Truly a monster of the jungle, an apex predator, now resting in this tank in Dallas looking back at me. Wandering past the tank we made our way down to the next floor. We were now seeing colourful fish, sunfish, clown fish, and a “Dora” fish. Then we got to Shark Tunnel that held many different sharks including the most peculiar shark that seemed to have a large saw blade for a nose sticking out of his. What was most unnerving about this shark was the mouth and how oddly human it looked. It definitely made you more uncomfortable the longer you looked at it.

We eventually wandered into an area where a huge eagle with a very large Arrium with very tall tree it was going from branch to branch from. Open to the outside air the eagle seemed happy to feel the cool breeze and almost performed when it saw people out of excitement. Another animal that almost played with the people watching was the sea otter that was the size of a large dog. Such a beautiful animal and so playful just swam past anyone who would get close splashing around to get more attention. Truly the puppy dog of the water. We went past the eagle and saw another very large enclosure with a small cat. An ocelot pacing and waiting to get fed maybe. Honestly it really reminded me of my cat, Rocket, how he would pace back and forth while I got his food out and got it ready for him.

Finally getting to the final floors we got to the penguin outdoor exhibit. The penguin is definitely one of my favourite animals and the fact that we can get so close to them was really an awesome experience. There was maybe six of them or so huddled around another waterfall just relaxing. It was really awesome being able to see so many different animals and to see them sometimes with no barrier and really enjoy their beauty. There was so much more that we saw that day that it would be more like a book if I tried tell you it all. What I can tell you is that the Dallas World Aquarium is definitely a place that you should visit and if you love nature, the ocean, and all the amazing creatures that reside in it or near it, then this a place you will want to see. I highly recommend.

The Sixth Floor at the Texas School Book Depository, Dallas, TX.

Driving to Dealey Plaza is surreal as someone who has spent years reading about this place. Nestled in a beautiful and busy part of Downtown Dallas, Texas, it takes a moment for you to realize where exactly it is you are standing. It took me a moment to find the parking area, that once you find it it is just a short walk from the Grassy Knoll. As I exit the car I look up at the old brick building standing ominously in the Texas sun. I gaze over to the Grassy Knoll and my gaze followed past the knoll to the rail road where a witness said he saw a group of men and what looked like a puff of smoke, possibly from a rifle. He mysteriously died after his testimony. Dallas Police also found several footprints and cigarette butts on the knoll.

I made my way across the parking lot to the entrance of the Sixth Floor Museum at the Texas School Book Depository Museum. The building where it it said that Lee Harvey Oswald had a sniper nest and murdered the young and beloved charismatic President John F. Kennedy. That is what the government told us for years amongst the sea of conspiracy theories and inconsistencies surrounding the death of the president. Going through the main doors we are directed to a cashier and given a ticket that grants us access to the elevator that takes us to sixth floor, now a museum in honor of the late President John Kennedy and that haunting day in American history.

Exiting the lift you walk through a short accessway passing the original freight elevator that Oswald would have used to transport the books to the storage area on the sixth floor. The books stacked in a certain way would have made it somewhat easy to make a hidden sniper nest by a window as it is posed that Oswald did but the location he selected is still something that continues to cause debate amongst theorists. As I looked out the window myself I could see that his vision would have been obstructed slightly by a large tree and that the position of the motorcade before the turn on Elm would have been a better location for a solo sniper operating by himself but Oswald didn’t do that.

The museum is a showcase of the achievements of the late President Kennedy and the life of a young Oswald leading up to the day where the tow paths would cross for the last time on this Earth. The exhibits include Oswald’s wedding ring, the sweater he wore when Jack Ruby shot him, and a historical walk through of that day that will leave you moved with its immersive experience.

Leaving I took a stroll over to the Grassy Knoll and gazed out of the white dome next to Elm street. I strolled slowly past the first X higher up on the drive. Where the first shot struck the president in the neck. A little further a more defined larger white X. The spot where the fatal shot stole the life of a president who had just started a legacy that would change the country forever.

Looking around now, the business of downtown, the families walking by, the drivers passing over the X. It is as if the history of this place rests quietly amongst those ho call this place home but never truly gone. A place renowned for conspiracy and sadness that changed a country forever.

Evening Run to Vulcan

My nephews and I have created this tradition that every Thanksgiving I drive my family up to my old hometown in Alabama and after we have our big meal that is usually around twelve in the afternoon we go up to Oak Mountain and hike up to Peavine Falls.  Oak Mountain is a huge State Park near Birmingham and is probably one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited. Now, one thing I always do is, when I am at the top of Red Mountain I would always survey the neighboring mountain tops for Vulcan.  Now, Vulcan is the largest cast iron statue in the world and it too sits atop Red Mountain so I am surveying the tops of all the surrounding peaks but I can’t see him, I never do.  Then I launch into my usual speech about how much I wish we could take a side quest to Vulcan before heading home but there is no way it would be open that late… or would it?  I had equipped my phone now with the latest in AI technology that even James Bond would feel a twinge of jealousy about as I asked ChatGPT what Vulcan’s hours were.  I was blown away when I saw it was open until ten.  I immediately rounded up the children and made the twenty minute drive to Vulcan Park.  It was a very short drive so it was not long before we were coming up the road taking us up the mountain when we saw him.  Vulcan, the largest cast iron statue ever made in the world.  The gray steel colour was outlined in the dark blue sky standing high on his pedestal reaching up towards the sky.  It was nearly sunset.  We first headed into the museum to get our tickets to go to the top of Vulcan but we were once struck with a kind providence as we were informed that their computer systems were down and therefore we would not be charged.  We were given our official post it note and made our way over to the pedestal that Vulcan sat atop.  The entire monument was being renovated so naturally the lifts were out but that was fine by me as I was interested in seeing the guts of the statues as we lumbered our way up.  The pedestal was a stone mason style that felt like an old turn of the century design.  Accurate since it was made in  the early nineteen hundreds.  The bottom of the stairs was a white marble room with the stairs starting on the right and wrapping around the wall going to the left.  After going up the original stairs the marbles gives way to a dark stone.  The original walls of the statue.  Going up the only hint to how high you are is the thin windows.  Approaching the top, the large steel doors open to an outside view of downtown Birmingham from almost two hundred feet above Red Mountain.  I am actually slightly averted to heights but I can never say no to a breathtaking view and the thrill of filming it.  As I stepped outside into the cold high altitude breeze I could see the lights of downtown lighting up and in the distance the sky was a deep red being washed out slowly by a black star dotted sky.  I made my way slowly walking around the entire deck and seeing the entire three hundred and sixty degree view that Vulcan offered.  There is something almost spiritual for me being in places like this.  I had visited Vulcan years ago when I was a kid and it was an inside observation room and you couldn’t see Vulcan but just the surrounding view but now being outside in the wind looking up and seeing the great cast iron olympian and not only see the view but really feel.  The grating was a little bit of a shock when I realized I could see all the way to the ground.  After taking a moment to really take in the view I had been waiting to see for years I took my time climbing back down the stairs.  I felt like I was leaving a friend’s house that I knew I wouldn’t be seeing again for a very long time and it was a little sad.  Before leaving though we took a walk through the Museum at Vulcan Park, spoiler alert, there is a celebrity housed there, Bill for Capitol Hill, if you know you know.  Making my way back to my ride I stopped and turned around and took a moment to really let the moment sink in, to really let it settle in my memory before heading back.  If you are ever in Birmingham, Alabama I highly recommend a stop to enjoy it.  Sunset, in my opinion, is the very best time.  Until next time dear adventurers, God bless you, St. Brendan travel with you, and may you always find the right trail.

NYE in the Wild: Lake Delancy, Ocala National Forest

New Year’s is the trip I always wait for—the one I plan hardest and look forward to most. Since 2020, it’s become a tradition: camping out the turn of the year, welcoming whatever comes next from deep in the woods. This year, Adam and I returned to one of our favorite spots—Lake Delancy, tucked away deep in the heart of the Ocala National Forest.
As with any good adventure, getting there wasn’t without its surprises.
I’d booked the site for December 30th and 31st so we could roll in easy, set up camp, and settle in. My driving, however, started on the 29th when while loading gear, Adam called—naturally I did the responsible thing and ignored it. Then came the text: “We have an issue.”
My heart skipped. I called him immediately.
With a laugh, he said, “I knew that would get your attention.” His truck repairs weren’t finished, and the truck he was using couldn’t haul the extra dirt bike Chris would need when he joined us on New Year’s Eve. This meant I needed to load my ATV, drive an hour south to Sarasota, pick up the dirt bike, head back home, finish packing, and be ready to roll the next morning.
Simple enough…
I loaded up the Foreman and headed south, hung out with Adam for a bit, strapped down the dirt bike, and made the return trip. Back home, I finished packing everything else—camp gear, food, tools, layers, and a banger play list that would leave the forest in awe, undoubtedly bringing out all natures creatures in curiosity of the awesome music. The next morning, we met at Publix, stocked up on supplies, and formed a little convoy to pick up Leonor.
This trip was special—it was Leonor’s first tent camping trip, and our first together. Sharing my favorite tradition with her was very special to me.
The drive took about two and a half hours. When we turned onto the Forest Service Road—pockmarked, dusty, and barely maintained—my heart swelled. That road means remoteness. Quiet. Freedom. We passed the familiar sign: “Welcome to the Ocala National Forest.” That sign always feels like crossing a threshold—into the bush, into God’s country, where the wild things are.
Adam had already arrived and pitched his tent. We wasted no time setting ours up, Leonor helping lay out blankets and gear since we knew the temperature would be dropping fast. As the sun slipped behind the trees, Adam grinned and said, “About time to get the fire going.”
Dinner that night was chicken thighs with squash and zucchini, the veggies chopped by Leonor and cooked to perfection by Adam. It was one of those meals that makes everyone go silent for a while—nothing but the sound of chewing, fire popping, and my occasional “Mmmmm”.
As we were swallowed by the dark, the cold had settled in hard. Around 35 degrees and falling. We walked laps around camp, half-hoping to spot the bear Adam and I had seen on a previous trip. But after several rounds, it became clear: it was too cold for anything to be moving, including Old Smokey.
Leonor and I turned in first. The rest of the night was brutal.
The temperature dropped to 28 degrees—bone-deep, painful cold. My feet ached. I shivered uncontrollably. None of us slept. At first light, I got up immediately, Adam built a fire, and we stood in the sun slowly defrosting. I’ve slept in cold places—reenactments, winter camps—but this was the coldest night I’ve ever endured.
Breakfast fixed everything. Runny eggs, bacon, cheese, Wonder Bread—Adam has this ability to create a feast anywhere we are, it is one of his superpowers. After eating, Leonor and I drove about 30 minutes into town for more firewood, blankets, hand warmers, food, and water.
Back at camp, it was finally time to ride.
We unleashed the machines and disappeared into the Ocala backcountry—Adam leading on the dirt bike, me close behind on the ATV with Leonor holding tight. Out there, far from everything, the noise of the world falls away. All that’s left is peace. Pine, sand, sky. Truly wild Florida.
After the ride, I sent the drone up and captured a bird’s-eye view of Lake Delancy and the endless green ocean of forest stretching to the horizon. It truly moves you in a way I find difficult to articulate. A feeling of adventure and beauty, awe and excitement.
That night’s dinner was ribs—the best ribs I’ve ever eaten. As the fire crackled, we counted down the final moments of 2025. In the distance coyotes howled at the moon adding a beauty and calm to the darkness of the night. When midnight hit, we all celebrated another glorious year and shouted, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Another year closed the right way.
That night, we were ready for the cold. Two socks with a hand warmer sandwiched between them, extra blankets, sleeping bag layered just right. I slept like a rock—confirmed by my snoring, which Leonor kindly pointed out the next morning. A brutal first night, followed by a perfect one.
As we packed up to leave, nostalgia tugged at me. Leonor and I took one last slow walk around Lake Delancy, and I told her stories—past trips, mishaps, and my favorite: the night we followed a black bear I’d happily nicknamed Old Smokey.
“I always see something,” I said. “I hate that this time—when you’re with me—we didn’t.”
I hadn’t even finished the sentence when a black bear cub wandered calmly through camp.
We stopped. Took photos and video. Followed at a safe distance while alerting others. Campers watched in awe as the bear passed through, unbothered, wild, and perfect. A gift from God—a beautiful sendoff.
Ocala will always be special to me. And Lake Delancy will always feel like home.
If you ever get the chance, go. You might just find paradise.

Cruise to CocoCay – Day 1

When my alarm went off at 6:30, it felt like I had only blinked. My eyelids were heavier than my own luggage. I dragged myself up, got ready, and caught a ride to Leonor’s place — we were traveling with her parents. The drive over was very pleasant, though I was given the usual send-off reminder: “Don’t get drunk and don’t embarrass yourself, Danny.” A tall order, but I felt oddly up to the challenge.
We left around 8 a.m. for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Fort Lauderdale. I didn’t mind the road trip, not at all, it was my bladder did. About two hours in, I was starting to feel my teeth float, thankfully I was rescued when Leonor’s mom called for a pit stop to pick up some snacks. After that, we were back on the highway and soon pulling into Port of call. That may be the wrong term but it sounds nice.
Once we’d shown our passports to confirm we weren’t terrorists or troublemakers, we searched for a parking space — not exactly straightforward, but I was too distracted to care. I couldn’t take my eyes off the ship. The Oasis of the Seas stood before us like a floating skyscraper, dwarfing everything around it. I had no idea just how massive it really was until later.
Pushing my bag up the gangway, I stepped aboard and was immediately swallowed by the crowd — passengers everywhere, most headed straight for their staterooms. This made using the lifts more of a practice of breathe holding and yoga exercises as fitting into the lift one would have to contort themselves into a small crack between two other blokes who were well into using their drink package, which I didn’t get this time but that’s neither here nor there.
Our stateroom was on Deck 12, starboard-side aft in shippy lingo — Room 684. I dropped my bag and practically leapt across the bed to the balcony. The door took me a minute to figure out — “very shippy” style lock again, very cool I thought to myself as I said come on Dan outsmart the door now, but once open, I was taken back by the view. It was unbelievable. We were as high as a building, part of this massive floating city.
After a quick change, Leonor and I headed down to meet her parents on Deck 9. Their stateroom mirrored ours — cozy, with a queen-size bed, a couch, a few dressers, and a small safe which I made very good use of. Once everyone was ready, it was time for lunch.
We took the lift to Deck 8, rounded a corner, and stepped into Central Park. I’m not exaggerating when I say it is a literal park — trees, plants, open sky — right in the middle of the ship. Looking up, you could see the decks rising like an apartment complex around this oasis of greenery.
A coffee shop, bakery, and pizza shop along with other restaurants and shops along the path of trees. I grabbed a coffee, Leonor got a slice, and her dad went for a sandwich. From there, we wandered toward the Boardwalk at the rear or aft in ship talk.
It was like stepping into a seaside carnival: a hot-dog stand that served not just hot dogs but huge bratwurst, a candy shop, a Johnny Rockets, and a beach shop — even an enormous water slide curling down from the ship’s top deck to the ground in the Boardwalk. Past that was the Aqua Theater, where the water shows would take place. This ship just never stopped.
After exploring, we returned to our stateroom so I could take in one of the moments I’d been waiting for: departure.
I stood on the balcony, waiting like those movie characters waving from a ship as the crowd on shore waves back. The ship’s horns sounded — several short blasts followed by one long, this was the horn sounding the ship was ready to get underway. The ship shuddered, then began to glide away from the dock, slowly at first, then faster, cutting through the harbor waters. This massive city making its way to the sea.
We passed several fishermen casting their lines, waving up at us as we waved back. The whole thing felt surreal — cinematic.
Leonor suggested a walk to the top deck, and I thought “That’s Brilliant!”. I even poured my “signature” drink: a double shot of Jameson Irish Whiskey, neat — with a Sprite on the side so Leonor could enjoy some too. Normally, I take it with Coke, but who cares about that.
We wandered around the pool, grabbed free ice cream which was amazing, and just stood there together, watching the sea stretch endlessly. The moment was still and sacred.
I remembered a line from Khalil Gibran:
“There must be something strangely sacred about salt. It is in our tears and in the sea.”
And standing there, surrounded by the smell of salt and the sound of waves, I understood what he meant.