simply. communication is a funny thing.
not funny 'haha' (though i can be), but still 'funny' in some way. not quite sure where i'm going with this, but we'll see...
at the heart of communication is communing. right? the coming together of two or more people. (can you communicate with yourself. keep an open dialogue, find better perspective through it. huh. i don't know. not what i'm getting at.) communication is not the trading or passing of information, like i think that our society/culture would have us believe. words, whether written or spoken. actions, too. indirect and directly affecting actions.
the information age, yes? age of mass communication, yes? but are we finding the root. are we actually communing, though.
when i think of the word communing, i gather a mental image (always silent) of two people sitting close. flesh, energy, and other unknowable things pass between them, in this dream. like hands (not hands) moving back and forth between. give and take. equality.
we talk talk talk so much. but what do we actually convey. we do do do (mostly inward focused), but do we allow ourselves to truly connect or be connected to.
in previous days, (long previous days...), when you wanted to communicate, you had to walk up to a person and speak to them. give or leave them a gift. write thoughts and feelings and words on pages and give/send them.
i now find myself changing. focusing less inward and more outward. towards a specific someone, albeit. a daily renewed desire to commune heavily weighs on me. it is not a burden, but rather a calling.
i desire to commune with her. daily. hourly. in more and less words.
i fancy myself a wordsmith sometimes (and a thoughtsmith at times as well...). but i'm finding that with this renewed desire to deeply commune, i'm having to re-examine what true communication is all about. in some senses, i'm having to re-invent my own usage of words and thoughts. i must emply new tactics, for this new desire.
thankfully i will not labor forever. i have a hope in a time after this life, where true communion will be found. where all may share intimately in HIM and in one another.
but for now, for me and for her, i will continue in my strivings...
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
and end & a beginning...
friends.
i did not know if i would bleed this blog into my 'normal' life after returning from the edge and the road. it seems as though the adventure has not ended. i prescribed a set period of time to experience adventure, and i have been blown away and over-abundantly blessed in it's continuance.
i suppose i was narrow-scoped and foolish to limit my view on adventure to a 'nether-time'. to say that it could only be had, on the road, or on the edge. truth be told, it's not about having it, it's about finding it.
looking in every crevice and around every corner. 'experience the rich ache of daily life', i once wrote. 'normal life' or 'normalcy' is only one's (my) inability to properly see. accepting normalcy is essentially a self-blinding. overlooking all the the Father and the fates have to offer.
so, i left you all. and i was full of hope...
things have not changed and i have not fallen off that covered wagon. i remain hopeful and so much more. i am returning/returned to SB and am starting/re-starting my life. ending this chapter. perhaps beginning a mini-chapter. perhaps just preparing for the next chapter that I have glimpsed and is upon me.
if i have seen/spoken to you at all, you know that things are different now. my world now includes a woman, and how wonderful it is to pour time into her and us. she is my world. plain and simply. how quickly love changes us/me.
so for the next 9 months i plan on soaking it all up. the sun, the sailing, the weather, the friends, the church, the time.
come along with me. on this page, or standing next to me.
adventure awaits...
i did not know if i would bleed this blog into my 'normal' life after returning from the edge and the road. it seems as though the adventure has not ended. i prescribed a set period of time to experience adventure, and i have been blown away and over-abundantly blessed in it's continuance.
i suppose i was narrow-scoped and foolish to limit my view on adventure to a 'nether-time'. to say that it could only be had, on the road, or on the edge. truth be told, it's not about having it, it's about finding it.
looking in every crevice and around every corner. 'experience the rich ache of daily life', i once wrote. 'normal life' or 'normalcy' is only one's (my) inability to properly see. accepting normalcy is essentially a self-blinding. overlooking all the the Father and the fates have to offer.
so, i left you all. and i was full of hope...
things have not changed and i have not fallen off that covered wagon. i remain hopeful and so much more. i am returning/returned to SB and am starting/re-starting my life. ending this chapter. perhaps beginning a mini-chapter. perhaps just preparing for the next chapter that I have glimpsed and is upon me.
if i have seen/spoken to you at all, you know that things are different now. my world now includes a woman, and how wonderful it is to pour time into her and us. she is my world. plain and simply. how quickly love changes us/me.
so for the next 9 months i plan on soaking it all up. the sun, the sailing, the weather, the friends, the church, the time.
come along with me. on this page, or standing next to me.
adventure awaits...
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
from whence i have come...
out of the forest (quite literally) and back onto the grid.
today is my father's birthday.
today i am a mere three days shy of being 'on the road' for two long months. i think i had an inkling that these months were going to be long. as the days passed, the time away from anything i've called home seemed to strech on like the midwest horizon. i found small pieces, little places of 'home' along my way. Seattle. Plymouth. Nashville. Ft Collins. that was good.
today i drove from southern oregon straight to my parent's house, in lovely-golden-brown-hilled NorCal. by the by, it's really hot up in northern northern california right now. as i crested the last hills before i dropped down into the valleys that comprise the 'north bay area', i felt the cool coastal air nip softly at my arm as it hung out the window. the air was a sure sign that i had returned to the land of my fathers. but with it, i know comes so much more. that the life i know outside of traveling along america's roads on the roving winds, that state of living that I guess i would call my life, would once again be mine to inhabit and partake in.
but things are different. irevocablly different. any substantial time alone; traveling great distances; traveling at all; partaking in something outside of yourself; seeing life outside of yourself; meeting someone special; these things change you. they have all happened to me in the last two months. i have changed.
i have fed my wanderlust. i have floated on the winds up the coast, seen the Big Sky, and traversed the wide plains. i have sat quietly beside a beautiful woman. i have grown weary of the road, and have chased the sun westward as far as i can.
another year lays just ahead. i cannot get there by car. i cannot and will not walk there alone.
i am full of hope...
today is my father's birthday.
today i am a mere three days shy of being 'on the road' for two long months. i think i had an inkling that these months were going to be long. as the days passed, the time away from anything i've called home seemed to strech on like the midwest horizon. i found small pieces, little places of 'home' along my way. Seattle. Plymouth. Nashville. Ft Collins. that was good.
today i drove from southern oregon straight to my parent's house, in lovely-golden-brown-hilled NorCal. by the by, it's really hot up in northern northern california right now. as i crested the last hills before i dropped down into the valleys that comprise the 'north bay area', i felt the cool coastal air nip softly at my arm as it hung out the window. the air was a sure sign that i had returned to the land of my fathers. but with it, i know comes so much more. that the life i know outside of traveling along america's roads on the roving winds, that state of living that I guess i would call my life, would once again be mine to inhabit and partake in.
but things are different. irevocablly different. any substantial time alone; traveling great distances; traveling at all; partaking in something outside of yourself; seeing life outside of yourself; meeting someone special; these things change you. they have all happened to me in the last two months. i have changed.
i have fed my wanderlust. i have floated on the winds up the coast, seen the Big Sky, and traversed the wide plains. i have sat quietly beside a beautiful woman. i have grown weary of the road, and have chased the sun westward as far as i can.
another year lays just ahead. i cannot get there by car. i cannot and will not walk there alone.
i am full of hope...
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
road poetry a.k.a. 'roadetry'
set out across the high desert of eastern oregon. thought i was going to dread each bleak and far stretching mile. but not the case today. no, today was cool air, desolate beauty, thoughts of a lady elsewhere, and great music. iron & wine. doug martsch.
over 200 miles passed as quick as i can write it. it might have helped that i pounded three red bulls at 8:30am. but who's to know these things. the landscape and the quiet begged me to write. so i grabbed the little notebook and steered with my knee.
it was fruitful. i shall part with those words. but first, i'm going to be going off the grid again. this time i'll be camping with my family in southern oregon. it's been close to eight years since we've done this. i'll try to jack in at some point in the week, but who's to know these hings. i'll be back in Novato before the month is over.
as i draw nearer to the end of this road trip, i'm filled more and more with mixed feelings. peace and calm, like i've done what i've set out to do. excitement, for the next chapter in my life. saddness, ostensibly, as this time of unbridled freedom comes to a close.
i have begun age 26 with a bang, an adventure, and a new little lady. i could not ask for anything more.
i'll see you all soon...
----------------
'heading west'
a tiny speck under an open sky
floating along on this black swath.
the air rushes
in the window to flood my nostrils.
i am a dust man,
formed of that same earth
i so silently pass over.
the sun and powerlines
give me direction.
the clouds
-chaotic in majesty-
gently urge me on.
the mountains
simply ignore me,
my time with them is but a breath.
i speed to
and crest each horizon
full of wind-teary-eyed anticipation.
yet i only find
more hills and peaks
bekoning me to come
and see what lays beyond
their heights.
so, i breathe
and press forward,
cutting my own furrow,
forging across this open land.
i think on a love
and other meadowed valleys
i've left behind
-but not forgotten.
i head west
to chase the sun
and a future that lies ahead
and unknown.
over 200 miles passed as quick as i can write it. it might have helped that i pounded three red bulls at 8:30am. but who's to know these things. the landscape and the quiet begged me to write. so i grabbed the little notebook and steered with my knee.
it was fruitful. i shall part with those words. but first, i'm going to be going off the grid again. this time i'll be camping with my family in southern oregon. it's been close to eight years since we've done this. i'll try to jack in at some point in the week, but who's to know these hings. i'll be back in Novato before the month is over.
as i draw nearer to the end of this road trip, i'm filled more and more with mixed feelings. peace and calm, like i've done what i've set out to do. excitement, for the next chapter in my life. saddness, ostensibly, as this time of unbridled freedom comes to a close.
i have begun age 26 with a bang, an adventure, and a new little lady. i could not ask for anything more.
i'll see you all soon...
----------------
'heading west'
a tiny speck under an open sky
floating along on this black swath.
the air rushes
in the window to flood my nostrils.
i am a dust man,
formed of that same earth
i so silently pass over.
the sun and powerlines
give me direction.
the clouds
-chaotic in majesty-
gently urge me on.
the mountains
simply ignore me,
my time with them is but a breath.
i speed to
and crest each horizon
full of wind-teary-eyed anticipation.
yet i only find
more hills and peaks
bekoning me to come
and see what lays beyond
their heights.
so, i breathe
and press forward,
cutting my own furrow,
forging across this open land.
i think on a love
and other meadowed valleys
i've left behind
-but not forgotten.
i head west
to chase the sun
and a future that lies ahead
and unknown.
fortune on the high desert
so we left our hero sitting in his car on the edge of the unknown. with no clear prospects of camping, he pushes on. darkness pervading, eyes getting heavier with each black and lonely mile.
it’s nigh on midnight now. i pass a dirt road in the darkness and then another. damn, it’s dark. my headlights are losing the battle. the peterbilts are barreling and will not allow me to slow at all. i’m falling asleep, and no amount of loud music is helping.
i let the semi pass and for a moment i am alone under the dark wyoming sky. i vow to take the next dirt road, no matter where it leads, and look for a place to bed down. a slight screech of tires as i almost miss the tiny brown path that deviates from the blacktop. the ‘dirt’ road is more rocks than dirt and my car is begging me to go slow. it curves from left to right until i no long no which way is which. up and over a small hill, tells me it’s time to stop. i can no longer see the string of red and white lights that pepper the night highway.
rabbits and prairie dogs dart across the road from one sagebrush to another. as if one side is better. a slice of prairie grass along the road looks flat. here i will make my home.
first the tarp, then the pad, finally the sleeping bag. lantern and knife within arms length. i ‘mark’ my territory for good measure. the ground is surprisingly comfortable, either that or i am really tired. with no lights, civilization, or anything around, it’s just me and the stars. i don’t even think the moon was there for company. whispering a silent prayer of thanks for my spot, i drift off.
morning comes quick. i wake before the sun has peaked above the hills. i stand barely clad, and look around at the bleak beauty and sunrising colors that stretch before me. i love my life.
drove across all of idaho. honestly not much to see. just stayed the night across the oregon border, in ontario. 9 hours of driving lay ahead of me. oh yeah, and my trunk broke this morn. "it's okay, we didn't need that part anyway, she'll fly without it."
i'll be back in that old familiar Pacific time zone again before i know it. unfortunately that puts me two hours from my girl, and many miles from Montana, the promised land.
oh, california, how i love and hate thee.
but, before i get ahead of myself...three cheers for Oregon...
it’s nigh on midnight now. i pass a dirt road in the darkness and then another. damn, it’s dark. my headlights are losing the battle. the peterbilts are barreling and will not allow me to slow at all. i’m falling asleep, and no amount of loud music is helping.
i let the semi pass and for a moment i am alone under the dark wyoming sky. i vow to take the next dirt road, no matter where it leads, and look for a place to bed down. a slight screech of tires as i almost miss the tiny brown path that deviates from the blacktop. the ‘dirt’ road is more rocks than dirt and my car is begging me to go slow. it curves from left to right until i no long no which way is which. up and over a small hill, tells me it’s time to stop. i can no longer see the string of red and white lights that pepper the night highway.
rabbits and prairie dogs dart across the road from one sagebrush to another. as if one side is better. a slice of prairie grass along the road looks flat. here i will make my home.
first the tarp, then the pad, finally the sleeping bag. lantern and knife within arms length. i ‘mark’ my territory for good measure. the ground is surprisingly comfortable, either that or i am really tired. with no lights, civilization, or anything around, it’s just me and the stars. i don’t even think the moon was there for company. whispering a silent prayer of thanks for my spot, i drift off.
morning comes quick. i wake before the sun has peaked above the hills. i stand barely clad, and look around at the bleak beauty and sunrising colors that stretch before me. i love my life.
drove across all of idaho. honestly not much to see. just stayed the night across the oregon border, in ontario. 9 hours of driving lay ahead of me. oh yeah, and my trunk broke this morn. "it's okay, we didn't need that part anyway, she'll fly without it."
i'll be back in that old familiar Pacific time zone again before i know it. unfortunately that puts me two hours from my girl, and many miles from Montana, the promised land.
oh, california, how i love and hate thee.
but, before i get ahead of myself...three cheers for Oregon...
Sunday, July 15, 2007
good will in the mountains
i am in green river, wyoming right now. my computer is busted and i can't lift the screen more than 3 inches. typing with my hands on the keys and the screen on top of my hands. absolutly stupid. but as a reciever of many free things, (cars, computers) i must not complain too much.
i'm sitting behind a ghetto liquor store in the darkness of my car and the shadows, stealing internet and drinking a cool but not cold beer. my plans to 'just camp somewhere in southwestern wyoming' have blown up in my face. no campgrounds, and no national forest. no trees anywhere actually, just rocks and shrubery. so as i write this, i don't quite yet know what i'm going to do, but, ah well, this is what it's all about right?
yesterday i was outside colorado springs with an uncle and aunt. i had some friends that i knew lived in northern CO, but i never called them in the planning phases of this trip. i cold called them from a pay phone in the mountains (this is after i asked a stranger to borrow his cell so that i could make another call...didn't have the heart to make two). i tell them i'm coming through and would love to stop for a few minutes and say hello. long story short, their hospitality abounded and i stayed till today.
twice yesterday i banked on the good will of my fellow man, and it paid off richly. Let us also say this: Ft Collins, CO is my new favorite place. instant friends, micro brewed beers to the hilt, sweet church this morn, and mountain high beauty. i can ask for little more.
i am becoming road weary. i miss my girl terribly. the time is drawing nearer to hang up the keys and the wanderlust for a while. i need to be a home body for a bit.
alright, with any luck, i won't have to sleep by the side of the road. next stop, OREGON...
i'm sitting behind a ghetto liquor store in the darkness of my car and the shadows, stealing internet and drinking a cool but not cold beer. my plans to 'just camp somewhere in southwestern wyoming' have blown up in my face. no campgrounds, and no national forest. no trees anywhere actually, just rocks and shrubery. so as i write this, i don't quite yet know what i'm going to do, but, ah well, this is what it's all about right?
yesterday i was outside colorado springs with an uncle and aunt. i had some friends that i knew lived in northern CO, but i never called them in the planning phases of this trip. i cold called them from a pay phone in the mountains (this is after i asked a stranger to borrow his cell so that i could make another call...didn't have the heart to make two). i tell them i'm coming through and would love to stop for a few minutes and say hello. long story short, their hospitality abounded and i stayed till today.
twice yesterday i banked on the good will of my fellow man, and it paid off richly. Let us also say this: Ft Collins, CO is my new favorite place. instant friends, micro brewed beers to the hilt, sweet church this morn, and mountain high beauty. i can ask for little more.
i am becoming road weary. i miss my girl terribly. the time is drawing nearer to hang up the keys and the wanderlust for a while. i need to be a home body for a bit.
alright, with any luck, i won't have to sleep by the side of the road. next stop, OREGON...
Saturday, July 14, 2007
chasing the sun...
so i'm heading west now. i will not spend a great deal of time lamenting that I have not written. in my defense, i will say that it is because i have been living in a fantasy world, enraptured by a woman. and i wouldn't trade a minute of it...
yes, there is a girl...
i drove across missiouri and kansas yesterday and the day before. it is a wasteland of nothingness out there. i had very little to keep me going, save for the promise of the cool crisp air of the mountain country and the northern states.
i came to an epiphany yesterday while driving. i am feeling the road tripping bug slowly being worked out of my system. alone on the road is losing its romanticism. i don't think that i'll back out alone. alone on the road of life is losing its romanticism as well.
i know. we'd never thought we'd see the day, but this 'confirmed bechelor' is tiring of his rambling ways.
i will be spending the next few days treking to southern oregon to meet up with the family for a week of camping. so freakin excited. after that, will return to the california north to work and road-detox.
the road, it would seem, has beaten me up a bit more than i thought it would.
perhaps i'm just feeling lost without her by my side...
yes, there is a girl...
i drove across missiouri and kansas yesterday and the day before. it is a wasteland of nothingness out there. i had very little to keep me going, save for the promise of the cool crisp air of the mountain country and the northern states.
i came to an epiphany yesterday while driving. i am feeling the road tripping bug slowly being worked out of my system. alone on the road is losing its romanticism. i don't think that i'll back out alone. alone on the road of life is losing its romanticism as well.
i know. we'd never thought we'd see the day, but this 'confirmed bechelor' is tiring of his rambling ways.
i will be spending the next few days treking to southern oregon to meet up with the family for a week of camping. so freakin excited. after that, will return to the california north to work and road-detox.
the road, it would seem, has beaten me up a bit more than i thought it would.
perhaps i'm just feeling lost without her by my side...
Saturday, June 30, 2007
back from the wild...
so i'm back on the map (though still not quite on the grid).
hello my friends, i've missed you all.
I am stealing internet from some business south of Chicago on my way to michigan. got up real early after camping in southeast iowa last night and got back on the road. please FORGIVE me for neglecting to write, as i have been back in civilization since monday. there was this overwhelming feeling like i need to write epicly about my time. each day that past, it became more difficult to write. alas.
i need to write more and speak of my times and adventures on the Indian Reservation as well of my short stay in middle-of-nowhere, Nebraska.
I think that over the next few posts, i shall write "flashback-postludes" and relate my recent adventures in that manner.
my head is swirling with the events of the past few weeks.
God grant me the serenity to spins these yarns...
hello my friends, i've missed you all.
I am stealing internet from some business south of Chicago on my way to michigan. got up real early after camping in southeast iowa last night and got back on the road. please FORGIVE me for neglecting to write, as i have been back in civilization since monday. there was this overwhelming feeling like i need to write epicly about my time. each day that past, it became more difficult to write. alas.
i need to write more and speak of my times and adventures on the Indian Reservation as well of my short stay in middle-of-nowhere, Nebraska.
I think that over the next few posts, i shall write "flashback-postludes" and relate my recent adventures in that manner.
my head is swirling with the events of the past few weeks.
God grant me the serenity to spins these yarns...
Saturday, June 9, 2007
big sky and spirits high...
well, that was a nightmare. long story short, they patched up my horse. my wallet’s a little lighter now. and by little, I mean a lot.
got back on the road. much relieved. little bummed about the money spent, but glad to be freewheelin again.
the Montana mountain heights brought me right back. feeling good in the saddle. as if with each turn or peak, I left the days previous fiasco further and father behind.
spent the night at my Uncle Phil’s. old-school ramblin man. we understand each other. he’s seen it all and been through the shit. I think he’s one of my main reasons I’m obsessed with Montana, beloved state. he recently came back to Christ after years and years. my heart and so many others, prayed for this and now rejoice with our Father in heaven.
bit of time for some bacon and eggs. black coffee. bit of time to swap a few stories. then is back to the road. last stretch before the Rez. pickin up a red feather friend in billings. I can only wonder what lies ahead for me in these next two weeks. pray that I may be a good witness.
and as always, think fondly of me in my absence…
got back on the road. much relieved. little bummed about the money spent, but glad to be freewheelin again.
the Montana mountain heights brought me right back. feeling good in the saddle. as if with each turn or peak, I left the days previous fiasco further and father behind.
spent the night at my Uncle Phil’s. old-school ramblin man. we understand each other. he’s seen it all and been through the shit. I think he’s one of my main reasons I’m obsessed with Montana, beloved state. he recently came back to Christ after years and years. my heart and so many others, prayed for this and now rejoice with our Father in heaven.
bit of time for some bacon and eggs. black coffee. bit of time to swap a few stories. then is back to the road. last stretch before the Rez. pickin up a red feather friend in billings. I can only wonder what lies ahead for me in these next two weeks. pray that I may be a good witness.
and as always, think fondly of me in my absence…
Thursday, June 7, 2007
houston, we have a problem...
okay. so i guess i'm not quite ready to go radio silent. yesterday, after leaving seattle, i didn't quite make it across the state before things went sour. and boy, the acidity is running high.
for all of you map people out there, i got as far as Lind, WA on the i-90. poor little blue car, was kickin and feeling like she wasn't even going to make it the 20miles to the next town, ritzville. i pulled off under much duress at the crossroads of highway 21 and the i-90. i found a little spot to park and check it out. she never started back up. shit. i'm in the middle of nowhere. wheatfields and crazy-strong high winds. rolling hills as far as i could see. no civilization. shit.
walked a bit. found some roadside workers. asked them for oil (which i thought might be the problem). they barely acknowledged me. flagged down the next car i saw. nice lady. felt sorry for me. she took me to podunk washington, also known as Lind, WA. told be that lind was famous for the 'combine demolition derby' which happens to be on friday. told me i should go see it, since i was broken down. i declined politly. then she told be all about the plight of the western washington farmer and the wheat fields. actually very interesting.
arrived in lind. went to the only mom & pop market (to which she called ahead to make sure they had motor oil). went to buy, but they only take cash. went in search of atm. got lost. the nice lady, Denise, drives around looking for me. finds me. i get cash, i get motor oil. we drive back to my car. long story short, the oil is not the problem or the solution. shit.
she stays with me. we call one of the nearest towns that i can get towed to and fixed up. it's 45miles in the wrong direction: west. at this point, my heart is sinking lower and lower into my chest until i think it fell out by the side of the road. if i get this car running again, i need to go back and find it.
$180 dollars later, i'm being towed back to Moses Lake, WA to a toyota dealer. i say goodbye to denise, my 'middle of nowhere angel'.
the towtruck driver tells me about some of the motels near the dealership. they all cost a million dollars to rent a room, and all i can think about is how much money i'm going to have to spend to even get back on the road. if i even can. i decide to stay up all night. bad idea. i decide to not eat at a resturaunt cause it's expensive. bad idea.
i'm slinging my satchel of justice and wearing my communist hat. i'm set. i'm kickin about, looking like a destitue vagabond (cause i am one). young guy with giant truck sees me and asks me if i need a ride somewhere. he and his buddy take me to town. we have a cig. go to safeway and buy can of soup and 24oz beer. hitch a ride back to the freeway where there's some 24hr diners. found a truckers lounge in the back of some gas station. heat and eat my soup, drink my beer in little back room. truckers come in and out. i say nothing. i fall in and out of sleep. it's midnight.
i decide to get out of there and find some bushes or some shadows to lie down in. i find an abandoned building. i bed down for a couple hours on the concrete next to the building. wishing i had some newspaper to put over me. feeling a bit like Kerouac, but not getting much sleep. give up the ground at about 3ish. head to 'shari's diner' to finish out the night.
nice waitress. i ask her to tuck me back in some back corner. she gives me coffee and let's me sleep. it's 5 when i wake. she gives me more coffee and her bleary night shift eyes pity me. she rustles me up some corned beef hash and eggs at my request. i thank her. she tells me the coffee is on her. it's already a bit light out by 5 though there's no sun yet. i eat a real roadhouse meal and read about Wild Bill Cody. i love the old west.
at 6, i trudge the mile back to my car at the dealership to sleep some more and wait for them to open at 7:30. they're looking at blue car right now, unknowingly deciding the fate of my road trip. best case, i'm back on the road, minus 3 to 4 hundred dollars. ouch. worst case, i have to leave the car. hitch it to montana maybe. maybe just cry in a ditch for a bit. i don't know.
i gotta say, you just can't make up stories like this. and truth be told, road trips wouldn't be the same without some issues along the way. i'm just hoping it ain't over before it's begun.
i'll drop a last note before i hit the Rez...
for all of you map people out there, i got as far as Lind, WA on the i-90. poor little blue car, was kickin and feeling like she wasn't even going to make it the 20miles to the next town, ritzville. i pulled off under much duress at the crossroads of highway 21 and the i-90. i found a little spot to park and check it out. she never started back up. shit. i'm in the middle of nowhere. wheatfields and crazy-strong high winds. rolling hills as far as i could see. no civilization. shit.
walked a bit. found some roadside workers. asked them for oil (which i thought might be the problem). they barely acknowledged me. flagged down the next car i saw. nice lady. felt sorry for me. she took me to podunk washington, also known as Lind, WA. told be that lind was famous for the 'combine demolition derby' which happens to be on friday. told me i should go see it, since i was broken down. i declined politly. then she told be all about the plight of the western washington farmer and the wheat fields. actually very interesting.
arrived in lind. went to the only mom & pop market (to which she called ahead to make sure they had motor oil). went to buy, but they only take cash. went in search of atm. got lost. the nice lady, Denise, drives around looking for me. finds me. i get cash, i get motor oil. we drive back to my car. long story short, the oil is not the problem or the solution. shit.
she stays with me. we call one of the nearest towns that i can get towed to and fixed up. it's 45miles in the wrong direction: west. at this point, my heart is sinking lower and lower into my chest until i think it fell out by the side of the road. if i get this car running again, i need to go back and find it.
$180 dollars later, i'm being towed back to Moses Lake, WA to a toyota dealer. i say goodbye to denise, my 'middle of nowhere angel'.
the towtruck driver tells me about some of the motels near the dealership. they all cost a million dollars to rent a room, and all i can think about is how much money i'm going to have to spend to even get back on the road. if i even can. i decide to stay up all night. bad idea. i decide to not eat at a resturaunt cause it's expensive. bad idea.
i'm slinging my satchel of justice and wearing my communist hat. i'm set. i'm kickin about, looking like a destitue vagabond (cause i am one). young guy with giant truck sees me and asks me if i need a ride somewhere. he and his buddy take me to town. we have a cig. go to safeway and buy can of soup and 24oz beer. hitch a ride back to the freeway where there's some 24hr diners. found a truckers lounge in the back of some gas station. heat and eat my soup, drink my beer in little back room. truckers come in and out. i say nothing. i fall in and out of sleep. it's midnight.
i decide to get out of there and find some bushes or some shadows to lie down in. i find an abandoned building. i bed down for a couple hours on the concrete next to the building. wishing i had some newspaper to put over me. feeling a bit like Kerouac, but not getting much sleep. give up the ground at about 3ish. head to 'shari's diner' to finish out the night.
nice waitress. i ask her to tuck me back in some back corner. she gives me coffee and let's me sleep. it's 5 when i wake. she gives me more coffee and her bleary night shift eyes pity me. she rustles me up some corned beef hash and eggs at my request. i thank her. she tells me the coffee is on her. it's already a bit light out by 5 though there's no sun yet. i eat a real roadhouse meal and read about Wild Bill Cody. i love the old west.
at 6, i trudge the mile back to my car at the dealership to sleep some more and wait for them to open at 7:30. they're looking at blue car right now, unknowingly deciding the fate of my road trip. best case, i'm back on the road, minus 3 to 4 hundred dollars. ouch. worst case, i have to leave the car. hitch it to montana maybe. maybe just cry in a ditch for a bit. i don't know.
i gotta say, you just can't make up stories like this. and truth be told, road trips wouldn't be the same without some issues along the way. i'm just hoping it ain't over before it's begun.
i'll drop a last note before i hit the Rez...
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
radio silence.
i'm leaving the comforts of seattle. with both gone to work, i'm saying goodbye to the couch and the kitchen at my sister and brother-in-law's apartment. my time here has been...well, let's say that sharing in the life of people you love, is what makes us feel human. new friends, Mike and Sarah. old card games of canasta. even got a couple games of beach volleyball in (i know what you're saying. i don't play much beach in SB, and now that i'm in seattle....i know....) but with some eggs in my belly, it's time to keep moving.
time: morning.
weather: cloudy, cold, yet squintingly bright.
disposition: furrowed brow, open heart.
trusty box camera: check.
now, slightly worn atlas: check.
oil lantern: check. (oh yeah.)
my spirit longing for the forest: check, check.
okay. i guess i'm ready. this is it. after this, i'm truly off the grid until late june. i'll be writing old fashioned letters if i can. pray for me. think fondly of me.
know that, despite my absence, you all remain close to my heart.
michael, signing off.
time: morning.
weather: cloudy, cold, yet squintingly bright.
disposition: furrowed brow, open heart.
trusty box camera: check.
now, slightly worn atlas: check.
oil lantern: check. (oh yeah.)
my spirit longing for the forest: check, check.
okay. i guess i'm ready. this is it. after this, i'm truly off the grid until late june. i'll be writing old fashioned letters if i can. pray for me. think fondly of me.
know that, despite my absence, you all remain close to my heart.
michael, signing off.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
bury my heart in the northwest....
i am somewhere caught. caught between worlds. between thoughts. this trip, i'm realizing, is magnifying my increasing tenuous place in life. i am found, lying on the ground, between satisfaction and anxiety.
i spent friday with a dear friend in portland. we parused Powells. a portland-bibliophile's absolute must. didn't buy anyting, surprisingly. s'ok. don't really have the money to spend, and i brought like 5 books that i haven't read. we sipped pressed java. french pressed coffee is somehow superior. we smoked and squinted in the sun. we fed our parking meters. though, we looked, no deli could be found. settled for pub food and a pint. took a picture of the sun, the trees, and the bricks. talked about the future. said wonderfully awkward, prolonged goodbyes.
when i got to my sister's, my brother-in-law, patrick asked me what i wanted to do while i was here. didn't know what to say. what do you do on a trip with no plans or schedules. let the things happen to you, i guess. met up later with friends to BBQ and tip back more than my fair share of beer. laughed. appreciated good company. made a fire in the back yard. appreciated good fire. happily sucked on beer number 6 or 7. appreciated good beer.
woke up early today with a response to the previously unanswered question. appreciate. that's what i want to be doing while i'm 'here'. and all the other stops along the road. which brings me back to my initial problem.
i think on the future. distant and near. i wonder what i'm doing, and how long i can keep it up. i wonder what the next chapter looks like. or if there are even chapters at all.
there is a wolf inside me that is hungry with wanderlust. i stave him off for months, and feed him in the summers. today he is satisfied. i wonder about tomorrow.
oh, and though it's been hot here, it rained this eve. i guess it would be Seattle if it didn't.
tomorrow, i'm going to find a oil lantern. and go to a history museum. mmm, i love history.
i spent friday with a dear friend in portland. we parused Powells. a portland-bibliophile's absolute must. didn't buy anyting, surprisingly. s'ok. don't really have the money to spend, and i brought like 5 books that i haven't read. we sipped pressed java. french pressed coffee is somehow superior. we smoked and squinted in the sun. we fed our parking meters. though, we looked, no deli could be found. settled for pub food and a pint. took a picture of the sun, the trees, and the bricks. talked about the future. said wonderfully awkward, prolonged goodbyes.
when i got to my sister's, my brother-in-law, patrick asked me what i wanted to do while i was here. didn't know what to say. what do you do on a trip with no plans or schedules. let the things happen to you, i guess. met up later with friends to BBQ and tip back more than my fair share of beer. laughed. appreciated good company. made a fire in the back yard. appreciated good fire. happily sucked on beer number 6 or 7. appreciated good beer.
woke up early today with a response to the previously unanswered question. appreciate. that's what i want to be doing while i'm 'here'. and all the other stops along the road. which brings me back to my initial problem.
i think on the future. distant and near. i wonder what i'm doing, and how long i can keep it up. i wonder what the next chapter looks like. or if there are even chapters at all.
there is a wolf inside me that is hungry with wanderlust. i stave him off for months, and feed him in the summers. today he is satisfied. i wonder about tomorrow.
oh, and though it's been hot here, it rained this eve. i guess it would be Seattle if it didn't.
tomorrow, i'm going to find a oil lantern. and go to a history museum. mmm, i love history.
Friday, June 1, 2007
off the grid...
i gotta say. i don't know what it is about that magical line that divides CA from OR. but it felt like the second i crossed it, i was renewed. i'll never get tired of driving those roads in southwestern oregon. with cali behind me, the old leash (most people call them cell phones) got turned off and stuffed to the back of the glove box, which of course, holds no gloves.
with a smile that wouldn't leave, i traversed lower oregon, stopping from time to time to snap a shot with my trusty box camera. napped in the shade by the side of the road. spent too much time buried in the atlas, while driving (arg!). wrote a bit of poetry. somthing that, i hate to say, but, i don't do enough these days. but sure-as-shootin (that wasn't as nearly as fun to write as it is to say), put me in the woods on a summer day and i'm bound to tear up slightly and want to write poetry.
before i leave you with the poem.
a few other things that happened today. almost ran out of gas, again. got lost twice (not really lost, just didn't know where i was). a guy asked me if i was a carpenter, because of the reality sticker on my car...lucky guess. sang really loud in the car. talked about old cameras and building log houses with a 91 yr old grampa. spry guy for 91. drove a tractor. admired a full moon (a blue moon actually). and listened to a sad-sweet irish tune on an old fiddle.
it was a good day.
but this poem sums today's drive better...
==================
the hills and valleys
rise and fall
in a simple comforting rhythm
like ocean waves
imitated in green
i slide through on these paved paths
as if i was walking on mountain water,
rocky and treed
i cannot find a shred of sadness
in this clear blue air
for the breeze only brings a smile
even in my solitude
these roads, now familiar trails,
whisper their surrounding beauty
and like old friends we sit together
in silence
watching the world fly by
with a smile that wouldn't leave, i traversed lower oregon, stopping from time to time to snap a shot with my trusty box camera. napped in the shade by the side of the road. spent too much time buried in the atlas, while driving (arg!). wrote a bit of poetry. somthing that, i hate to say, but, i don't do enough these days. but sure-as-shootin (that wasn't as nearly as fun to write as it is to say), put me in the woods on a summer day and i'm bound to tear up slightly and want to write poetry.
before i leave you with the poem.
a few other things that happened today. almost ran out of gas, again. got lost twice (not really lost, just didn't know where i was). a guy asked me if i was a carpenter, because of the reality sticker on my car...lucky guess. sang really loud in the car. talked about old cameras and building log houses with a 91 yr old grampa. spry guy for 91. drove a tractor. admired a full moon (a blue moon actually). and listened to a sad-sweet irish tune on an old fiddle.
it was a good day.
but this poem sums today's drive better...
==================
the hills and valleys
rise and fall
in a simple comforting rhythm
like ocean waves
imitated in green
i slide through on these paved paths
as if i was walking on mountain water,
rocky and treed
i cannot find a shred of sadness
in this clear blue air
for the breeze only brings a smile
even in my solitude
these roads, now familiar trails,
whisper their surrounding beauty
and like old friends we sit together
in silence
watching the world fly by
Thursday, May 31, 2007
diners and families...
a diner. lulu’s café. unknown redding locale. 730am. oh yes, I’m the only one in the diner. dark purple leather bound boothes. and, yes, the ‘older’ waitress is talking my ear off about this and that. even though I’m a bit bleary-eyed, the glinting-windowed sun and the shitty diner coffee are making it all perfect in the only way that it can be. oh yeah, and I’m having greasy-good corned-beef hash and eggs. yum.
how funny families are. with their twists and turns and dark corner pockets.
I call my cousin denise up three weeks ago, who I haven’t seen in ten years, and ask her if I can crash at her place for the night on my way up north. we exchange pleasantries for a minute. realizing our lives are nothing alike, the silence is nice but awkward. she says, ‘I have two kids now’. I knew this, but with both of us at 25, it’s strange.
yet, the ‘family factor’, warmed us up from the get go, and we talked like old friends. who live different lives. who’ve never known each other as adults. (but you get the idea). the boys are three and one. a handful. their dad’s in prison, and his brother, who was helping, is now also in prison. let’s just say that they really discriminate against the Indians up here in norcal (that’s feather, not dot.)
so, I fell into stride, believe it or not, playing mr mom/cousin/babysitter. she doesn’t cook (what?), so I suggested we go to the store and get some grub. flash-forward. I’m holding the little one in my left arm, keeping the fridge closed with my foot, so the older one won’t the candy bar that’s inside, and frying up chicken and corn in a skillet in my right. I think I laughed out loud.
we tipped back a few brews and talked family. how strange it is, how it binds us together but how lucky we are to have it. whether it’s for a last minute baby sitter, or just for someone who somehow feels closer than a friend.
next stop, Oregon. I kinda wish I was riding a horse…
how funny families are. with their twists and turns and dark corner pockets.
I call my cousin denise up three weeks ago, who I haven’t seen in ten years, and ask her if I can crash at her place for the night on my way up north. we exchange pleasantries for a minute. realizing our lives are nothing alike, the silence is nice but awkward. she says, ‘I have two kids now’. I knew this, but with both of us at 25, it’s strange.
yet, the ‘family factor’, warmed us up from the get go, and we talked like old friends. who live different lives. who’ve never known each other as adults. (but you get the idea). the boys are three and one. a handful. their dad’s in prison, and his brother, who was helping, is now also in prison. let’s just say that they really discriminate against the Indians up here in norcal (that’s feather, not dot.)
so, I fell into stride, believe it or not, playing mr mom/cousin/babysitter. she doesn’t cook (what?), so I suggested we go to the store and get some grub. flash-forward. I’m holding the little one in my left arm, keeping the fridge closed with my foot, so the older one won’t the candy bar that’s inside, and frying up chicken and corn in a skillet in my right. I think I laughed out loud.
we tipped back a few brews and talked family. how strange it is, how it binds us together but how lucky we are to have it. whether it’s for a last minute baby sitter, or just for someone who somehow feels closer than a friend.
next stop, Oregon. I kinda wish I was riding a horse…
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
oh, Lagunitas...
i am unable to come back to my childhood stomping ground without seeing one of my beloved friends from childhood, Galen Woodruff. anybody that has spent more than ten minutes with me has probably heard a story about Galen, and the crazy situations we've gotten ourselves into over the years. The log ride down the swollen river, constructing and flying our own hang glider, stealing and sailing boats. (ahh the memories!)
in late '05 he bought a house (and by house, i mean shack that was covered in garbage and a bane to the neighbors and county) in the woodsy and magical Lagunitas. Only Galen could go from living in a garage/shack (where he also built his guitars) that was situated 10ft from the cliff in Bolinas, overlooking the ocean and edge of our fair continent, to living in a hundred year old house overhanging a creek/river in the redwoods of NorCal.
i think that God has kept us spirit connnected through all these years, and every time i retreat to Lagunitas to 'recharge', i thank God for this friendship.
i was napping yesterday afternoon, yet finding no peace. i awoke from troubling dream with a weary spirit. i jumped in the car and headed out the backroads to go see him. the sun. the roling brown grass hills. the way the redwoods obscure the sun, the light and shadows dancing on my windshield as i pass under their majestic branches.
i arrived to a bear hug from my old friend. as i sat on his cabin porch (this is the little cabin that he built in 3 weeks that he lives in while he's rebuilding his beautiful house, and it's gorgeous), and sipped some exotic beer, with the familiar sound of the creek babbling not more than a couple feet down the embankment. The warm sun and the damp air makes it all so dream like. I look around and see the latrene that we built, the stairs that I built, and the nearly-done wood floor in the main house that I helped put in. it's so good to feel like you've contributed to somthing that is solid. we've had so many laughs (and beers) as we worked in the times (sadly few and far between) when I'm 'up north'.
we ate BBQed ribs and made a fire. as the darkness fell, his girlfriend and I prompted him to break out his guitar (that he built) and play for us. how right it felt for the music to rise up amongst the trees. we sat and he played. and the world felt right for a few minutes.
i left late last night, as i always eventually do, for some unknown adventure. whether on to SB or the open road, i know that I can always go back and find some notes of peace.
Lord, never let me stray too far that i cannot return to Lagunitas.
in late '05 he bought a house (and by house, i mean shack that was covered in garbage and a bane to the neighbors and county) in the woodsy and magical Lagunitas. Only Galen could go from living in a garage/shack (where he also built his guitars) that was situated 10ft from the cliff in Bolinas, overlooking the ocean and edge of our fair continent, to living in a hundred year old house overhanging a creek/river in the redwoods of NorCal.
i think that God has kept us spirit connnected through all these years, and every time i retreat to Lagunitas to 'recharge', i thank God for this friendship.
i was napping yesterday afternoon, yet finding no peace. i awoke from troubling dream with a weary spirit. i jumped in the car and headed out the backroads to go see him. the sun. the roling brown grass hills. the way the redwoods obscure the sun, the light and shadows dancing on my windshield as i pass under their majestic branches.
i arrived to a bear hug from my old friend. as i sat on his cabin porch (this is the little cabin that he built in 3 weeks that he lives in while he's rebuilding his beautiful house, and it's gorgeous), and sipped some exotic beer, with the familiar sound of the creek babbling not more than a couple feet down the embankment. The warm sun and the damp air makes it all so dream like. I look around and see the latrene that we built, the stairs that I built, and the nearly-done wood floor in the main house that I helped put in. it's so good to feel like you've contributed to somthing that is solid. we've had so many laughs (and beers) as we worked in the times (sadly few and far between) when I'm 'up north'.
we ate BBQed ribs and made a fire. as the darkness fell, his girlfriend and I prompted him to break out his guitar (that he built) and play for us. how right it felt for the music to rise up amongst the trees. we sat and he played. and the world felt right for a few minutes.
i left late last night, as i always eventually do, for some unknown adventure. whether on to SB or the open road, i know that I can always go back and find some notes of peace.
Lord, never let me stray too far that i cannot return to Lagunitas.
Monday, May 28, 2007
and so we begin, again...
it took me till 2007 to get on board with this blogging thing. we'll see how long it lasts.
i left today. left my life in sunny (actually, gloomy) Santa Barbara. feel like i've done this before. got a different car this time. (moment of silence for my beloved White Car)
been telling everyone for a year that, hell or high water, I was going back on the road. been counting down the days. hell, there hasn't been a single day that has gone by that I have not thought about Montana, Red Feather, and being 'on the road'. and in a flash, here I am. I gotta say i'm still a bit disoriented. worked myself dizzy these last three weeks trying to make some last dough so i could justify this trip in my head. feel like i left in such a hurry. i swear, no matter how many lists i make and subsequently cross off, i never feel prepared. but maybe that un-prepared feeling is the point. too much control and we lose that 'real life' aspect.
i arrived at my parents this eve. will be here for a couple of days gathering self and relaxing the tightly wound spirit. don't think i feel like i'm quite on the actual road trip yet. i think it's because i've driven that damn stretch of the 101 so many times that it's actually familiar or commonplace or something. i think when i hit the open road north of here, heading into the California high country, i'll start to 'feel more at home'. cause i say, damn, nothing calms me down more than a drive. a simple arm-out-the-window/wind-in-the-face/vast-freedom-ahead kinda thing.
third in three years. i'm wondering how many more of these i'm going to need to take to calm this wanderlust. maybe next year, just one more: Alaska.
i'm sick. i haven't even really started this trip and i'm already planning the next one. and i never think that far ahead. i guess with the exception of these trips. i guess i'm always thinking about the next one. and...i just realized, that's how i survive in SB. not job to job. not show to show. but from one trip to another. is that wrong. one of these days i'm going to have to sit down (or take a drive) and figure out something else besides road trips to define my life with.
maybe later. or maybe in the woods.
i love this blog thing. i can think outloud and have a bit of a creative outlet. whoever thought of these things...
stay tuned for the further adventures of Michael Conrad II
i left today. left my life in sunny (actually, gloomy) Santa Barbara. feel like i've done this before. got a different car this time. (moment of silence for my beloved White Car)
been telling everyone for a year that, hell or high water, I was going back on the road. been counting down the days. hell, there hasn't been a single day that has gone by that I have not thought about Montana, Red Feather, and being 'on the road'. and in a flash, here I am. I gotta say i'm still a bit disoriented. worked myself dizzy these last three weeks trying to make some last dough so i could justify this trip in my head. feel like i left in such a hurry. i swear, no matter how many lists i make and subsequently cross off, i never feel prepared. but maybe that un-prepared feeling is the point. too much control and we lose that 'real life' aspect.
i arrived at my parents this eve. will be here for a couple of days gathering self and relaxing the tightly wound spirit. don't think i feel like i'm quite on the actual road trip yet. i think it's because i've driven that damn stretch of the 101 so many times that it's actually familiar or commonplace or something. i think when i hit the open road north of here, heading into the California high country, i'll start to 'feel more at home'. cause i say, damn, nothing calms me down more than a drive. a simple arm-out-the-window/wind-in-the-face/vast-freedom-ahead kinda thing.
third in three years. i'm wondering how many more of these i'm going to need to take to calm this wanderlust. maybe next year, just one more: Alaska.
i'm sick. i haven't even really started this trip and i'm already planning the next one. and i never think that far ahead. i guess with the exception of these trips. i guess i'm always thinking about the next one. and...i just realized, that's how i survive in SB. not job to job. not show to show. but from one trip to another. is that wrong. one of these days i'm going to have to sit down (or take a drive) and figure out something else besides road trips to define my life with.
maybe later. or maybe in the woods.
i love this blog thing. i can think outloud and have a bit of a creative outlet. whoever thought of these things...
stay tuned for the further adventures of Michael Conrad II
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