travel

Our children were embarrassingly old when they finally mastered riding bikes without training wheels. And not because they lacked desire or skill—it’s kind of on us. Many of you know that we live on a farm, and even though we have 30 acres to roam, none of it is paved or smooth. That makes for wonderful walks and hikes, but not so great for learning how to ride a bike.

Justin and I love biking. I grew up near trails that wound all around Tulsa. I have memories of being strapped to my mom’s bike, just like that little character from Peanuts—riding with her is one of my best memories. Justin too—he comes from a long line of cyclists. His grandfather still rides in his 80s. Cycling runs deep with the Foster men.

But for years, our kids struggled on gravel, and hauling 5 bikes to trails always felt like a chore. Finally, Christmas of 2024, we upgraded everyone to mountain bikes to make that bumpy driveway a little more manageable. Within weeks, all three kids were cruising the farm, riding to Granny and Grandpa’s, even waking up asking if they could ride before breakfast.

All that to say—my family literally learned how to ride bikes together just seven months ago. Now we’re on a cross-continent trip and had to bring the bikes.

Honestly, when we started this trip, we had never gone on a full family bike ride longer than maybe half a mile—and that was only once. Our kids had never ridden on city streets or navigated right-of-ways. The younger two had definitely never been on a trail bumpier than our gravel road.

In the last three months, they’ve taken paved scenic rides, gravel forest rides, been dropped off at a glacier overlook and ridden their way down, biked trails to beaches, waterfalls, rocky slopes, and canyons. They’ve even tackled trails that draw people from all over the world in Whistler and Moab. And guess what—so have I.

I had only been mountain biking once in my life before this trip. It always scared me. Something about going up mountains seemed impossible, and I preferred the wind-in-my-hair part of road biking over the watch-out-for-obstacles part of mountain biking. But I did it all too. Scared to death most of the time—self-talking, praising myself for going faster, taking turns more bravely.

Ellie and I learned that hanging back at the rear of the pack, going at our own pace, gave us time to do hard things together. We became like our own affirmation track, cheering each other on with every pedal stroke.

Every ride, I not only felt stronger, but more loved—loved by my family and loved by myself.

This trip hasn’t been about escaping anything. It’s about creating space to be us. To step into situations every single day where we get to practice being our best selves. Where we have the freedom to fail. To be afraid. To learn. And to do it all together—not just parents teaching kids, but a family sharing challenges and new adventures genuinely together.

And biking has, by far, been my favorite adventure…… (well there is also all those animals we saw too:)

For all the places to spend the summer on an adventure, why did we choose Alaska? Well, there are many reasons—but fishing is at the top of the list. We came for the fish, and Alaska is not disappointing.

We are in an area of Alaska called the Kenai Peninsula. It’s known for its vast wilderness—like much of Alaska—its towering, snow-capped mountains that rise straight from the water, its glaciers, and more bears and moose than people…..Okay, that’s not exactly accurate, but on the drive here, it sure felt like it.

Kachemak Bay, specifically, is known for halibut—a flat, white, bottom-dwelling fish best caught here as they come into the shallower waters in spring and summer.

So we started our fishing adventure in Homer. Unsure of how the kids would do out on the open ocean—Ellie gets a little seasick—we booked a half-day fishing boat just for our family to get our sea legs moving. We woke up very early, geared up with coats, snacks, Dramamine, and a whole lot of encouragement and positive thinking. Then we met up with a wonderful local, Thad, and his son Dawson from TNT Adventures, for a day on the water.

Now, we have some experience fishing. Justin grew up on the Gulf and has spent many days on the open water. I’ve been twice. I hear there are definitely days when you hook up one after another, but those are few and far between. Usually, you’re waiting hours between bites.

Not sure what we were expecting but It was non-stop: “Fish on!”

We set out with seven souls on board around 5:15 AM and limited out on halibut before 8:00 AM—total catch: 12. It was amazing. Justin’s face the entire day was a permanent smile. The boys had a blast, and Ellie didn’t throw up and didn’t complain—which are both huge wins.

We were home by 11, and everyone was napping and smiling the rest of the day.

Then came Day 2. Ellie and I sat this one out because I wanted her to have the success of open-water boating and fishing fresh on her mind. The boys headed out. Again, by 9:00 AM, they had limited out with six halibut—but this time, they reeled in big fish. They went to a different part of the bay and caught fish after fish, each one seeming bigger than the last, with the largest weighing in around 125 pounds and measuring 5’2″.

A common saying on this trip is, “This is the best day of my life”—it echoes from one of the five of us almost daily. Today was Justin’s day.

By breakfast, they were done with halibut and had plenty of time for another adventure: salmon. Salmon is the main fish we are here for. Our primary spot for salmon fishing will be the Kenai River—but this was like a mini preview. Thad and Dawson took them upriver to fish for salmon.

According to the stories and the pictures, this wasn’t just salmon fishing. This was hiking upstream, climbing waterfalls, and finding a fishing hole filled with salmon—that kind of fishing. This group of salmon was hatched by a fishery, so it’s like their beacons get confused and they don’t know where they’re going. They have the instincts to swim upstream, but they aren’t sure which river. So they swim here and get stuck at the bottom of the waterfall.

Which means—wildlife and anglers alike feast on the fishing.