Robert F. Kennedy reaches out to a crowd of well-wishers.

All I wanted was one clean shot of an image from the slideshow before me: the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine cover, the gritty black-and-white of soldiers slogging through a jungle in Vietnam, or the image of Earth as seen from Apollo 8. Yet the shot eluded me. No matter how fast I clicked, the image I wanted to capture was already melting into the next, and my resulting picture was nothing but chaos.

Strangely enough, my artistic woes served as the perfect introduction to Oakland Museum of California’s The 1968 Exhibit. “You see,” the curator explained, during a press preview, “our goal in designing the exhibit was to try to replicate the relentless series of events” of that watershed year. From the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy, to the riots in Chicago, to the Black Power protests in Oakland, 1968 shook America to its foundations.

Inside, a path through 12 displays led me, breathless, all the way from the Tet Offensive to the Apollo 8 landing, through the “whimsy and tragedy” of the year. Packed with artifacts—Goldie Hawn’s go-go boots from Laugh-In, the camera used to snap the final pictures of a dying Robert F. Kennedy, Janis Joplin’s psychedelic pants and hot pink boa—this historical exhibit gripped me from the minute I stepped inside.

Patchwork pants were de rigueur among the hip in 1968.

The journey begins in a delightfully kitschy living room drenched in hues of olive, yellow, and peach. But there’s something strange about this living room: across from the sofa sits a hulking Huey helicopter. I abandoned my comfortable perch on the couch and peered inside the Huey; before me, black-and-white war footage played against a soundtrack of thup-thup-thupping rotor blades. Looking down, I saw a draft card, dog tags, and a Zippo lighter that a soldier had engraved with a chilling message: “You only live twice. Once when you’re born, and once when you’ve looked Death in the face.”

I turned around only to find myself standing inside a college dorm room, learning about the anti-war movement and the sexual revolution. And so the exhibit continues, mirroring the ceaseless march of events in a year that an observer described as “just one damn thing after another.” Fortunately, there are well-placed “pop culture lounges,” where you can plop down in a beanbag chair and enjoy favorites scenes from Funny Girl and groove to the tunes of the Monkees. Better yet, the displays offer you a chance to become a true part of history, as you step inside an authentic voting booth (straight from Ramsey County, Minn.) to cast your ballot for your 1968 presidential candidate of choice, or use software to Photoshop your face onto an album cover.

Walking out of the exhibit, I noticed that the slideshow was still playing. Had I really wanted just one image? I thought. That just wouldn’t do justice to 1968.

The 1968 Exhibit runs through August 19, 2012.

What was your favorite museum exhibit?

Hearst Castle at sunset. | courtesy of Hearst Castle®/California State Parks

What would a journey to California’s Central Coast be without a stop at that enchantingly extravagant Hearst Castle? In 1919 the young Hearst commissioned San Francisco architect Julia Morgan to “build a little something.” By 1947, Hearst and Morgan had created a 165-room Mediterranean revival estate surrounded by 127 acres of gardens, terraces, fountains, and pools.

Today, you can get an intimate look at Hearst’s own bedroom, the rooms of his mistress, Marion Davies, and the study where Hearst reviewed each day’s news. Our tour guide kept us laughing as he expounded on Hearst’s imported Spanish ceilings, signed first-edition novels, and collection of 2,000-year-old Greek vases. When we couldn’t stand the sight of one more marble bust, we drove to Paso Robles for dinner—pork empanadas, yucca fries, and chile rellenos stuffed with roast corn and crab at chic Estrella.

We stayed in the hills around Paso Robles, and the next day headed to nearby Montaña de Oro State Park. Jagged rocks made accessing the tide pools tricky, but Corallina Cove was a treasure trove of shy anemones, scurrying hermit crabs, and even the shell of a bay red abalone washed up on shore.

Powell's carries candies from decades past. | Heather Kathryn Ross

Our adventure came to the sweetest possible end back in downtown Paso at Powell’s Sweet Shoppe. Modeled after a turn-of-the-century confectioner’s shop, Powell’s overflowed with Cracker Jacks and Bazooka bubble gum, jawbreakers and Jelly Bellys. Could I start the three-hour drive back to the Bay Area without Whoppers and an Almond Joy? Of course not.

Flowers surround a statue at Carmel Mission.

My boyfriend Asa and I love to travel. Our last sojourn took us all the way to the Middle East, but there’s something to be said for vacationing closer to home. A two-hour drive south of the San Francisco Bay Area, we inhaled the salty-sweet ocean air, saw jellies, otters, and leafy seadragons, and ate rosemary quiche and hand-crafted baklava.

We began our coastal caper on a rainy afternoon, strolling the tourist center of Cannery Row, which John Steinbeck made famous in his 1945 novel of the same name. Today, the area is a series of high-end hotels, gift stores, and sweet shops. We stopped into Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory for a tangy, decadent Dirt N’ Worms caramel apple and an escape from the downpour. Later we dined at a tiny, family-owned Lebanese restaurant called Paprika Café. The highlights: fluffy, warm-from-the-oven pita bread, dolmas in yogurt, and flaky, honeyed baklava.

The weather brightened considerably on our second day, so we headed straight to Carmel and San Carlos Borromeo de Carmelo Mission (Carmel Mission for short), the second of California’s 21 missions and the final resting place of mission founder Father Junipero Serra. After wandering the small museum and the quiet grounds blooming with purple pride of Madeira, we drove back to downtown Monterey for rosemary quiche and chocolate-dipped strawberries at Paris Bakery.

A jellyfish at the Monterey Bay Aquarium floats in a sea of blue.

We spent the last day in Monterey at the town’s top attraction, the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Though the “Jellies Experience” exhibit had yet to open when we visited, we were still treated to dramatic Atlantic sea nettles, delicate umbrella jellies, and gelatinous moon jellies in groovy oval tanks. We also watched the aquarium’s newest resident—an abandoned sea otter pup being fostered by one of the resident female otters—playing and feeding on sea urchins. But my favorite exhibit by far was “The Secret Life of Seahorses,” featuring ribbon pipehorses and kelp-like leafy seadragons floating gracefully among the reeds.

A peek over a construction fence reveals Radiator Springs.

These days the Disneyland universe has expanded way beyond Mickey, Minnie, and Pluto. You can meet Darth Vader, Kermit, Buzz Lightyear, and on June 15^th when Cars Land opens, you can cozy up to Lightning McQueen, Tow Mater, and Sally.

An epic new series of attractions in the center of California Adventure, Cars Land is built around the characters of the 2006 animated movie, Cars. If you don’t know these guys, you probably don’t have a kid under the age of 18.

Invited to Disneyland this spring, I was able to peek over the construction fence to see the sunset-hued buttes of “Ornament Valley” rising over a busy crew in hard hats. I also spied Mater, the rusty, trusty tow truck waiting to receive visitors.

Cars Land got me thinking. If I were a Disney Imagineer, what new “Land” would I propose for the ever-evolving theme park?

At the Blue Sky Preview Center sketches and maps reveal the plans for Cars Land.

Walt Disney’s animated films and his original theme park were inspired by the most compelling stories of the day, from fairytales to King Arthur to Davy Crockett. So it only makes sense that over time, the park has come to embrace more recent sagas.

I loved seeing the Star Wars galaxy in the 3-D Star Tours attraction and the highly entertaining Jedi Academy stage show, where “younglings” learn light saber tricks and duel with Darth Vader and Darth Maul.

It was also a treat to see Jim Henson’s Muppets in a theater draped in red curtains with Statler and Waldorf heckling from the balcony. (Fozzie Bear’s gag boutonnière squirts real water out at the audience.)

So what characters would I add to the Disney collection? What would be worthy of another new Land? My son suggests Dragon Land, which could be a lot of fun. Of course his idea of Dragon Land is probably full of all sorts of Medieval weaponry—battle axes, crossbows, and catapults. The more action-packed combat and fiery, dragon-breath explosions, the better.

Maybe Disneyland needs two new lands: Tropical Paradise Spa Land, a parents-only realm sprinkled with hot tubs, cocktails, and foot-massage specialists, and Babysitter Land, where Medieval weapons enthusiasts can hang out without their usual grown-up supervisors.

Yeah, I would’ve added on a few days to my trip for that.

Whaddya think? Got a better idea?

A plate of raw oysters tempts. | courtesy of Wikipedia

Molasses bread, 10 kinds of havarti, pan-fried oysters, pinots-a-plenty, and a food fight (of sorts). The beaver state delivers the delectables when it comes to food. Five gourmets give you the inside scoop on delicious destinations from an old-fashioned roadside diner to fancy tasting rooms.

For the Love of Oregon Oysters
Pan-fried oysters, anyone? Brian Doyle shares 4 restaurants outside Portland where you can indulge.

Cheese Please: There’s More to Oregon’s Willamette Valley Than Wine
The tasting room at Willamette Valley Cheese Company offers artisan cheeses made only from the milk of Jersey cows (think luxuriously rich butterfat content).

Mountaintop Wineries Beckon From Just Outside Portland
A handful of wineries in Oregon’s Chehalem Mountain Range pour pinot to please.

Newport, Ore.: Otis Café a Delightful Slice of Americana
An old-fashioned café serves he-man portions of molasses bread, pork chops with applesauce, and German potatoes.

Best Food City: Portland or San Francisco?
Brian Doyle, a Portland gourmet, and Josh Sens, a San Francisco food critic, tout their city’s culinary chops.

A mutation produces the fan-like crest on a saguaro in Saguaro National Park.

Desert-loving writer Anne Burke took off for Tucson, Ariz., searching for fun, food, and flora. She unearthed a few surprises. Do you know what a sod poodle is? Want to know where to find a rare crested saguaro? Curious about happened to the hot dog that ventured south of the border? Want the scoop on the best Mexican restaurant in Tucson? You can find out those and other Tucson fun facts by reading her stories below:

The Prairie Dogs of Tucson: Sod Poodles Return At the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum in Tucson, you can observe prairie dogs kissing, eating, and staring you down with their big black eyes.

The Sonoran Desert’s Rare and Spectacular Plants Saguaro National Park in Tucson and Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, a couple hours to the west, put on spectacular pageants of color, form, and texture.

Tucson’s El Charro Café: Art and Eats This locals’s favorite is as much a gallery of Mexican folk art as it is a food destination.

Sonoran Hot Dogs: A Tucson Treat The Sonoran hot dog is as familiar to locals as the ubiquitous saguaro cactus and is a favorite with the lunchtime crowd.

A blogger and a moose make nice at Winter Park Village. | Megan McCrea

You know how you think you know a place until you show it to someone who has never been there before? Former Coloradan, Megan McCrea returned home for the holidays with her boyfriend in tow. Intent to show him her favorite places on  their journey from Winter Park, where they hit the slopes, back to Denver, Megan found herself looking at places she thought she already knew with a different eye:
Growing Pains at Winter Park Resort Megan learned how to ski on the slopes and worked at the resort when she got older, but now there was this new thing called the Village. Her boyfriend loved it, but Megan . . .
Rudi’s Deli A local spot, filled with mountain nostalgia still delivers. After all, how can you go wrong with a turkey sandwich with tangy honey mustard?
Empire’s Mountain Edge Coffee Shop A caramel apple or homemade peach butter coffee cake? Sometimes life’s hardest decisions are sweet. Those choices and a gallery with local wares makes for another great stop.
Idaho Springs: Beaujo’s Pizza Parlor Touristy destinations, in this case an historic mining town, satisfy those guilty pleasures in all of us.
Denver: Cowtown or Cultural Hotspot? Back in Denver, Megan tries to prove that it’s not a cowtown. She could have done that if it weren’t for all these cows and cowboys they kept running into.

A cigar-chomping skeleton greets visitors at El Charro. | Anne Burke

You can hardly toss a tortilla in Tucson, Ariz., without hitting a really terrific Mexican restaurant. One of the best is El Charro Café, owned and operated by three generations of the Flores family since 1922.

To call El Charro a restaurant sells it short. This locals’s favorite is as much a gallery of Mexican folk art as it is a food destination.

Under soaring ceilings, a warren of cozy rooms have walls painted gaily in orange, lavender, and lime, and crowded with metallic crosses, vintage vaquero sombreros, and paintings of the saints.

A Day of the Dead skeleton wearing a top hat and chomping on a cigar laughs off el muerte and all that might hasten it: “Another pitcher of margaritas? It’s not going to kill you!” Our Lady of Guadalupe, eyes cast down, presses her palms together, as if to pray that you enjoy your trio of hot steaming tamales. Her entreaty is thoroughly unnecessary; this Mexican comfort food is delicious.

When the weather is nice, ask for a table in the patio, under the big acacia tree and the strings of Mexican beer flags. The centerpiece is a fountain cleverly decorated with sombreros of oxidized copper and surrounded by tables with colorful, oilcloth coverings.

Order the trio of tasty tamales at El Charro. | Anne Burke

El Charro is well-known for its carne seca, the marinated, dried beef that is a classic of Sonoran-style cuisine.

In the old days, owner Monica Flin would dry her beef strips on a clothesline in a storage shed. Today, write authors Jane and Michael Stern in “The El Charro Café Cookbook,” Flin’s grandniece, Carlotta Flores, puts her beef in a metal mesh cage that is suspended high above the patio to take advantage of the hot desert sun. The thoroughly dried meat is then shredded and flash-grilled with green chile, tomato and onions.

El Charro has expanded to several locations, but first-timers should start with the flagship restaurant in the El Presidio Historic District downtown.

What’s your favorite Mexican restaurant?

A crested saguaro raises its twisted top to the sky. | Anne Burke

I was determined to find a crested saguaro if it took me all day. It’s one of the strangest and most beautiful of all cacti. But it’s extremely rare. Of the nearly two million saguaros in Saguaro National Park, only a couple dozen are crested.

A ranger suggested I look off McCain Loop Road near the southern boundary of the park’s west district.

And that’s where I found one. A real beaut. The saguaro stood maybe 30 feet tall. At the top was a fan-shaped growth with an intricate pattern of swirling lines. It could have been a piece of art.

In fact, the unusual growth is a deformity. Scientists call it fasciation. Nobody knows for sure why it grows. Maybe it’s a genetic mutation, or freeze damage, or the result of a lightning strike.

Entirely apart from the sculptural displays of a crested saguaro, Saguaro National Park in Tucson and Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, a couple hours to the west, also put on other spectacular pageants of color, form, and texture.

An agave plant in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. | Anne Burke

Lean in for a look at the long reddish spines of the fishhook barrel cactus. And how about rock lichen in green and orange and red?  Or the little, round nest holes that woodpeckers and gilded flickers punch through the saguaro’s thick, waxy skin.

Then there’s the exquisite symmetry of the leaves on an agave. The dangling clusters of berries on the chain fruit cholla. Ever inspect a prickly pear pad up close? You can see not just the whitish spines but also tiny clusters of hair-like prickles called glochids. Watch out, they may be barbed.

What’s the rarest plant you’ve ever seen?

A mother prairie dog and her baby greet each other with a kiss. | Anne Burke

What’s cuter than kitty TV and more addicting than a panda cam? The black-tailed prairie dog habitat at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum in Tucson.

This rock-strewn patch of grassland is home to some 30 burrowing little rodents that settlers knew as “sod poodles” for their high-pitched, bark-like vocalizations. Behind a tall fence, black-tailed prairie dogs scamper about, make chattering noises, disappear down holes, munch on carrots, and stare you down with big, black eyes.

One of the more fascinating behaviors is the “jump-yip,” a territorial display in which the prairie dog jumps in the air with a strongly arched back and lets out a shrill “yip.”

And then there’s all that kissing, which isn’t quite the way it looks. Prairie dogs identify each other by lightly touching their front teeth. Regardless, it’s sweet.

Prairie dogs like carrots and other root vegetables. | Anne Burke

Prairie dogs—the most common of which is the black-tailed species—are native to the western plains from Canada to Northern Mexico. As many as five billion roamed the continent in the 1800s, but a variety of factors —among them eradication programs and urban encroachment—conspired to reduce their population to less than two percent of that number.

In Arizona, where the native population was entirely wiped out, the state is taking steps to re-introduce the critter. In the meantime, stop by the exhibit at Tucson’s museum. Spring is a good time to visit. If you’re lucky, you’ll spot a baby emerging from a burrow for the first time.

Where is your favorite place to watch animals in the wild?