In Alaska, Pam LeBlanc explored glaciers and watched grizzly bears fatten up for the winter. Pam LeBlanc photo

This year I made 13 round-trip airplane flights and buzzed down highways during 10 road trips, all while chasing travel stories.

I stepped foot in six foreign countries – Panama, Costa Rica, the Marshall Islands, Thailand, Ecuador, and Mexico. That’s one more than last year’s tally of five foreign countries, even though I had to cancel two big overseas trips due to my trashed knee.

I stepped foot in six states, too, and slid through the snow at four different ski areas.

Next year’s shaping up as a busy one, too.

Without further ado, here are my best travel experiences of the year…

For a snowy adventure, go cat skiing in the San Juan National Forest in Colorado. Pam LeBlanc photo

10. Skiing in the back country of San Juan National Forest near Durango. I swooped through chest-deep powder and felt strong and capable. (Then two weeks later, I took an awkward spill on a groomed slope in Idaho and trashed my knee. Argh!)

9. Hobbling through West Texas, one of my favorite places. I stayed a few nights at Cibolo Creek Ranch, then went on to experience Big Bend National Park a different way – on crutches.

8. Zooming around Bangkok in a tuk-tuk, exploring temples, neighborhoods, and bars.

An Attwater Prairie chicken “booms” at a preserve near the Texas coast. Pam LeBlanc photo

7. Watching endangered Attwater Prairie Chickens “boom,” showing off for the opposite sex with an elaborate mating dance, at a preserve along the Texas coast.

6. Clinging to the back of a pickup truck as it rumbled behind a herd of buffalo during the annual roundup at Custer National Park in South Dakota.

A young member of the Embera Tribe stands on the beach in Darien National Park, Panama. Pam LeBlanc photo

5. Meeting members of the Embero Tribe living in a small village inside Darien National Park in Panama.

4. Exploring the Marshall Islands, where the U.S. military tested nuclear bombs in the 1930s and ‘40s.

3. Scuba diving with sea lion pups around Isla Espiritu Santo in the Gulf of California.

2. Snorkeling with penguins and sea lions in the Galapagos Islands.

Grizzly bears congregate at Brooks Falls at Katmai National Park to fish for salmon in July 2023. Pam LeBlanc photo

1. Watching grizzly bears sit on a waterfall and eat salmon at Katmai National Park in Alaska.

Pam LeBlanc takes in the view from atop the Four Seasons in Bangkok – a few days after suffering severe gastro intestinal distress.

Let 2023 go down as the year I shat my pants in the Four Seasons Bangkok.

Sure, a lot of other stuff happened this year – some of it good, some of it not so good. I detached the ACL in my knee, for example, and did other assorted bodily damage while snow skiing in Idaho. I dashed out of a meeting with public officials in the Marshall Islands and barfed into an unplumbed toilet. I also watched grizzly bears fish for salmon on a waterfall in Alaska and learned what it’s like to have a sea lion chew on your swim fins while scuba diving in Baja Mexico.

Still, that moment in Bangkok, as I stood inside an empty elevator car at a hotel I could never afford on my own dime, praying to any god that would listen that it wouldn’t stop to let on another passenger, sticks out in my mind.

I’d traveled to Thailand (on crutches, post ACL surgery) to write a travel story about the thriving downtown scene in Bangkok. And it was glorious, a bustling world of tuk-tuks and golden temples and streets crowded with people.

The Four Seasons – a gorgeous hotel where an entry level room starts at $800 a night and there’s a staff member just to arrange fresh flowers – hosted me. On Day 1, a manager led me and two other journalists around the premises, showing off the spa facilities and art gallery and a few swanky suites.

I felt fine when I hobbled into the lobby on crutches to meet the others. Ten minutes later, as my guide slid back the curtains in the living room of a penthouse suite to reveal all of Bangkok unfurled like a fire-eating dragon beneath us, an urgent need struck.

I probably could have ducked into the bathroom in the suite, but that would have been obvious. And embarrassing.

I fled.

My room was miles away, and in my panic, I couldn’t find a restroom between where I was and where I was desperately trying to get. I rode an elevator down one tower and scurried through the courtyard, knowing with more certainty with every step that I wasn’t going to make it.

And I didn’t.

Thank goodness no one else got on the elevator. I made it to my room and walked directly into the shower.

I recovered (physically, anyway) in a few hours. I still don’t know what caused my distress.

Maybe it was the future granting me a preview of what life will be like when I’m really old.

Thanks 2023, you’ve been a doozy.

I mailed a postcard to Denver when I visited Post Office Bay on Floreana Island in the Galapagos. Chris LeBlanc photo

I’ll be lucky if the postcard I mailed from the Galapagos Islands last week makes it to its intended destination in a year – or ever.

It’s part of the charm of tiny Post Office Bay on Floreana Island, where for more than 200 years people have been leaving letters, without stamps, in hopes that someone on a passing ship would deliver it for them.

Naturalist Jorge Torres stands next to the old barrel that serves as a post office on Floreana Island. Pam LeBlanc photo

In the late 1700s and 1800s, British whaling ships stopped at the island to load up on fresh water, a rare and critical resource. The ships would stay at sea for several years at a time, and their crews had no way to communicate with loved ones at home. As the story goes, a clever sailor decided to leave an old wooden whiskey barrel there in 1793 to serve as a de facto “post office.”

Read more: It’s snowing in Colorado and you should buy lift tickets now

Crews on passing ships would drop letters in the container, and other sailors who visited the island would rummage through the barrel to see if they could deliver any of the mail left behind.

The tradition stuck.

Today, tourists who visit the island drop unstamped postcards in the “mailbox.” At the same time, they’re encouraged to sort through mail left by other visitors. If they spot a card or letter addressed to someone near where they live, they’re supposed to pick it up and hand deliver it to its designated recipient.

You’ve got mail

I dropped a postcard in the mailbox for my sister, who lives in Denver. I’m excited to hear if she ever gets the card.

I picked up this postcard at Post Office Bay because I plan to pass through Ridgway in a few months. Pam LeBlanc photo

I also picked up four other postcards – two headed to Driftwood, just outside of Austin, one headed to Kerrville, and a fourth destined for the tiny town of Ridgway, Colorado, where I’ve got a good friend.

Slow, yes, but comforting reminder that we’re all connected – and a charming way to find out how long it takes to deliver a message, with no stamp attached, all the way from the equator.

Ski resorts are gearing up for the upcoming season. Buy lift tickets now to save money. Photo by Dan Bayer

Snowflakes are flying in Colorado, y’all.

I sat down to coffee with a group of representatives from three Colorado ski resorts this week, who reminded me that now’s the time to buy lift tickets.

“The earlier you can sort out plans, the cheaper it’s going to be,” Olivia Butrymovich of Copper Mountain told me over muffins at Upper Crust Bakery.

Read more: Find powder and snowy adventures at Purgatory Ski Resort

If you wait and buy them when you get to the mountain, you’ll pay top dollar. These days, lift tickets at most large resorts will set you back close to $200 at the window.

If you buy in advance, you can take advantage of deals. Some resorts offer flex tickets, which allow skiers to buy two-, three- or four-day tickets without designating which day they’ll use them. That means even if you don’t have a hotel or airfare booked, you can lock in lift tickets now.

And the snow Is coming.

Winter Park saw 15 inches of freshies this week, and they’re making more, according to Jen Miller, who handles communications for the resort. The resort officially opened Friday, and although only 20 acres are skiable, more terrain is expected to open in the next few weeks.

“People are excited,” Miller said. “It’s the anticipation of the ski season after a long summer.”

Visitors can enjoy free admission at Texas State Parks this Sunday. Here, a park visitor admires the Big Tree at Goose Island State Park. Pam LeBlanc photo

You can leave the big bucks behind when you head to a state park this Sunday. To celebrate Texas State Parks Day, officials are dropping the day-use admission fee.

That means you can hike at Pedernales Falls State Park, where recent rains have bumped up flows down the limestone slab, or say hello to one of the biggest trees in the country at Goose Island State Park – all without spending a dime.

“Texas Parks and Wildlife Department wants to continue to connect everyone to our beautiful parklands and we hope that Texas State Parks Day will give someone new the opportunity to discover what makes our state parks special,” said Rodney Franklin, director of Texas State Parks.

The state operates nearly 90 parks throughout the state, from Big Bend Ranch State Park near Terlingua to Sea Rim State Park near Beaumont. They offer opportunities to camp, swim, hike, birdwatch, bike and more.

I’m on a mission to visit all of them. So far, my favorites include Hill Country State Natural Area, Martin Dies Jr. State Park, and Palo Duro Canyon State Park.

Reservations are recommended and can be made online.  Parks will operate as usual and will control admissions by their established capacity limits. All other fees will still apply on that day. Visit the TPWD website for a list of activities and events in a park near you.

Visitors can enjoy free admission at Texas State Parks this Sunday. Here, a park visitor admires the Big Tree at Goose Island State Park. Pam LeBlanc photo

You can leave the big bucks behind when you head to a state park this Sunday. To celebrate Texas State Parks Day, officials are dropping the day-use admission fee.

That means you can hike at Pedernales Falls State Park, where recent rains have bumped up flows down the limestone slab, or say hello to one of the biggest trees in the country at Goose Island State Park – all without spending a dime.

“Texas Parks and Wildlife Department wants to continue to connect everyone to our beautiful parklands and we hope that Texas State Parks Day will give someone new the opportunity to discover what makes our state parks special,” said Rodney Franklin, director of Texas State Parks.

The state operates nearly 90 parks throughout the state, from Big Bend Ranch State Park near Terlingua to Sea Rim State Park near Beaumont. They offer opportunities to camp, swim, hike, birdwatch, bike and more.

I’m on a mission to visit all of them. So far, my favorites include Hill Country State Natural Area, Martin Dies Jr. State Park, and Palo Duro Canyon State Park.

Reservations are recommended and can be made online.  Parks will operate as usual and will control admissions by their established capacity limits. All other fees will still apply on that day. Visit the TPWD website for a list of activities and events in a park near you.

Pam LeBlanc gets a ride through the airport in Boise after detaching her ACL in a ski accident. Six months into ACL recovery, she’s looking forward to skiing again. Tony Harrison photo

Despite a job that has, over the years, involved everything from water ski jumping to backpacking and mountain biking, I’d never really injured myself – at least not badly – until I detached my ACL last spring.

Then, on the Ides of March, just two weeks after skiing through waist-deep powder during a back country cat-skiing trip in the San Juan Mountains, I fell while skiing a groomed run at a tiny ski resort in Idaho called Lookout Pass.

The name of the place alone should have given me warning.

Ski patrollers wrapped Pam LeBlanc’s leg in bubble wrap after she fell while skiing in Idaho. Pam LeBlanc photo

I fell awkwardly and got a ride down the mountain on the back of a snowmobile. There, a patroller wrapped my leg in bubble wrap and cardboard like a Fed X package and sent me to a hospital. A doctor in Coeur d’Alene gave me a brace and a pair of crutches and told me to see an orthopedic surgeon back in Austin.

It turns out I’d detached my ACL, torn the meniscus and fractured the bone. The surgeon installed an ACL from a cadaver in early May, and I’ve been on the mend ever since.

ACL recovery

Today, nearly six months into my ACL recovery, my doctor told me I might be able to ski again by February.

When I look down at my right quad, the one that’s injured, it still looks puny compared to the good one. “Like a hotdog,” someone joked the other day. But my physical therapist, who I’ve gotten to know well over the past six months of twice-a-week visits, promises it’ll return to normal. It just takes time – a year or more. Friends who have had the same surgery say they’ve come back stronger than before.

I hope they’re right.

I’m terrible at sitting still, and I’ve had to learn a lot through the recovery process. Four months on crutches tested my patience.

Even when she couldn’t walk, Pam LeBlanc could swim.

I wasn’t allowed to swim for three weeks after surgery, and even when I got back in the pool I still couldn’t kick for a few more months. I’ve only recently started biking again. I can’t run yet, and I missed water skiing all summer. My leg feels stiff, like someone stuffed a towel in the joint.

But the idea of skiing at the end of this season makes me giddy. Sure, it’ll be scary, latching on my ski boots and pointing my skis down the hill that very first time. I won’t be jumping into the moguls right away. I’ll have to remind myself I can’t do the things I used to do.

Pam LeBlanc spent four months using crutches after detaching her ACL in March 2023. Here she hikes at Martin Dies Jr. State Park. Chris LeBlanc photo

People ask me all the time during tthis ACL recovery if I’ll ski again, and that seems so strange to me.

Of course I will. That’s why I got the surgery – because I love skiing and backpacking and pushing my body to its limits. You can live a perfectly normal life without an ACL, but you need a fully functioning knee to do the things I love.

And I’m not ready to give those things up just yet.