Futon Quixote

Gone Fishing (not coming back)

2008-09-07T08:06:00.002-04:00

This'll be my last post on Futon Quixote. Just wanted to post the new blog's address where I'll be attempting to regularly jot down some stuff: Working Differently. I'm really interested in what folks have to say about what it means to work in a way that is fulfilling, sustainable, balanced, and healthy for more than just our wallets.

nurkdenflurn will be restored...

2008-09-02T17:42:00.003-04:00

P.S. My abandoned little blog nurkdenflurn will start seeing action again now that Futon Quixote is winding down. If you want to keep reading the things I see fit to noodle on about, follow me back there.

How it all turns out.

2008-09-02T16:40:00.005-04:00

Thanks to everyone who has followed our travels and offered encouragement along the way. We discovered that the trip was best spent with beloved friends and family. Thanks so much to everyone who housed, fed and entertained this couple of nomads after we dropped into your lives at random times. We're endlessly grateful for your time and love.

I've gotten a few notes from folks wondering how the story ends, so here it is: The crazy guy gets sane and then dies. Wait a minute, that's Don Quixote. Futon Quixote ends a little differently: The crazy folks stay crazy and try to live the best lives they possibly can. It's another couple of hundred blog posts to describe what that means so I'll just move on for now.

In evaluating our financial status last night, we discovered that somehow, a dirty dog snatched our debit card number and address and bought $1000 of software while we were driving through New Hampshire. All things are being slowly restored miraculously, but we're grateful that we had our savings separate from our checking so that the thief only had access to a finite chunk of our dinero. We still have no idea how he/she got our info. Wicked scary.

Speaking of mysteries, we're sitting smack in the middle of one these days. The only thing that's really (wet) concrete about our life is that we'll be living in GR with Catye until at least December and we're going to spend as much time with our friends here as we can. Catye has provided an amazing safety net for us by offering her home. It's really easy to feel at home with her. Stephanie's made this even more possible by all of her hard work in getting our upstairs living space set up spectacularly. The kitchen is completely filled and ready for action after trips to the farmers' market and the local grocery store, so we're set.

Sometime this week we'll be filling out our Yestermorrow applications and sending them off with a little prayer. Our visits to the school have shown that it may provide a tremendous opportunity for both Stephanie and me to grow and learn while living in a community of like-minded folks. Whether we're accepted into the internship program or not, we're living a really exciting dream because we're already in a great community of people who care about each other and are committed to growing together. I'm content with that.

Oh, and I think I'm going to start another blog to journal my path toward living the artist life full-time. Stay tuned for updates.

I wouldn't call it the end of the road, but...

2008-09-01T13:33:00.006-04:00

We entered Michigan last Tuesday, stopping at Tim's parents' house for a night before heading out the next morning. We didn't head west to Grand Rapids - we made our way north to Petoskey and Charlevoix, and camped out on Fisherman's Island State Park. Last year in October we camped at this beautiful spot and huddled up against the cold to watch Lake Michigan chop against the shoreline. It was our first time sleeping in the van, and I'd surprised Tim by dragging the futon mattress into the van while he was at work. From the trip, we had our first inkling that we might be on to something with the whole futon thing.

This time back at the park, we were able to stay for free on a water site that is usually booked all summer long, but the family had called and were going to be 2 days late. I took it as a sign that we were definitely meant to stay for those days. The beloved Great Lakes were perfect for swimming. Late August is always the best because they've had all summer to warm up. While Lake Superior is my favorite, Lake Michigan is no shabby second. Being in a part of the state I love helped to soothe my sad spirit a bit.

Driving back through New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and through Michigan from Vermont was really tough. As soon as we crossed the state line, we left slow mountainous roads, braking for passengers, and small vibrant towns behind for flat, boring expressways lined with gaudy billboards and filled with drivers that cut you off, blow past you, and just generally don't give a shit about anybody but themselves when they're in their vehicles. I think Michigan is a beautiful place; in fact, most places are. It's just that we make them so ugly. Vermont is proof that human presence does not have to be a blight.

You might say that this time around, I really fell in love with Vermont. Being around people as wonderful as Amy and Pete certainly helps, but I loved the small towns with local economies. The wild flower gardens. The veggies growing in everyone's little plot. The great coop in Montpelier. The slowness. The hiking. The promise of great cross country skiing. The general view that businesses that contribute something back to the local place are worth frequenting, and that towns need to be protected from ones that don't. I did see the downsides that I saw the last time I visited Vermont: expensive to live, lots of insular people wary of outsiders (maybe that's a side effect of feeling protective of a place), too many bumper stickers.

But enough of all that Vermont stuff. We're now back at Catye's place, and I've stayed put since the couple days we've been here getting our little attic space up to snuff. I will start venturing out this week. In our space, we have our futon set up in lieu of our bed, I have some art up on the walls and have created a little reading corner with only ONE bookshelf. But my favorite spot is a little nook where I've set up a desk just for writing and art. It's my 2' by 4' studio. And I love it. I stayed up until 2 in the morning last night writing. I am so pleased to be here with Catye in her house, cooking and puttering around. It was an unbelievable gift she gave us the last month of our trip to know we had a place to return to. I would have worried myself into a stupor.

I'm just starting to sort the trip out in my head. I'm not sure if I have all my questions answered, and that's probably a good thing. But I do have some ideas. And I have some peace. And I'm feeling really joyful right now.

Stay tuned for a post from Tim at some point.

Yestermorrow Visit

2008-08-24T11:01:00.003-04:00

Late this week Stephanie and I began to seriously consider moving to Vermont. We've enjoyed our time here so much and love what we've seen. So I'm asking myself (and Stephanie) how the heck this plays out with the forming plans of us heading to California so that I can go to the College of the Redwoods Fine Furniture (CRFF) program? Right now, your guess is as good as ours.

CRFF offers what I consider the best instructional and communal learning opportunity with regard to furniture craftsmanship and philosophy and it would be a great starting point for my foray into designing/building for a living. Sadly, the town of Fort Bragg and the thought of living in California for a year haven't really excited both of us. We don't think we'd ever settle out there long-term, and we don't know anyone there. Not to mention, it's wicked expensive for non-residents and I would be in a shop for 60 hours a week. ...There's no real show-stoppers there, but definitely items we're considering.

Considering Vermont, we've been seriously looking through Yestermorrow's site and reading their course catalog, and it seems like it might be a place where Stephanie and I could both grow while living in a place we both love with dear friends nearby. After perusing the website, we found that Yestermorrow offers internships that sound right up our alley: a Kitchen/Garden internship for Stephanie and a Design/Build internship for me. With questions in hand and curiosity in full bloom, we visited Yestermorrow on Saturday.

A current intern, Matt, gave us a tour and answered all of the questions that were in his power to answer. Stephanie and I both loved the facilities and the laid back atmosphere of the school, as well as the location only 30 minutes from our friends Pete and Amy. It's also nestled near tons of hiking trails and blue ribbon fly-fishing streams. The outstanding item that Matt could not answer was how it would work if we both applied and what our chances were of both being accepted. There are some sticky issues with these internships from the get-go in that the Kitchen/Garden gig is for 1 year while the Design/Build internship is 4 months. This also begs another difficult question: "What will I do when my 4 months are up and Stephanie is still committed for another 8?" To answer these, we're going to try to get in to see Kate Stephenson on Monday - she's the director of operations for the school. Depending on how this meeting goes, our plans could be shifted into action a bit sooner than we had originally planned (shocker). Deadline for application to Yestermorrow is October 1st.

Weeeeeeeeeeee!

happiness = good breakfasts

2008-08-21T12:59:00.005-04:00

What could be better than a quiet breakfast comprised of delicious, natural and local ingredients shared with wonderful people? We found our home-away-from-Marie Catrib's at Kismet in Montpelier.

Tim's view from Mount Hunger

2008-08-21T12:57:00.004-04:00

grumpy vs. picturesque: Presidential Range of the White Mountains, New Hampshire

2008-08-21T12:54:00.004-04:00

incriminating evidence from the hostel

2008-08-21T12:51:00.005-04:00

We took our friends' advice in The Cabin, a hostel in East Andover, Maine and had some frickin' fun already. We played dress up with the really weird clothes that Honey and Bear (the owners) keep around for AT thru-hikers to wear as they do their laundry. Because every thru-hiker needs a curly purple wig...

Acadia National Park

2008-08-21T12:49:00.003-04:00

sights from the lobster boat with Steve and Nancy

2008-08-21T12:44:00.007-04:00

prepare for picture overload

2008-08-21T12:36:00.006-04:00

I finally got around to organizing some pictures. Here are a whole bunch...

Foggy coastal Maine. Then stormy coastal Maine.

Where do I Sign Up to Become a Green Mountain Boy?

2008-08-20T19:21:00.002-04:00

Vermont is straight up incredible. Although housing is wicked expensive and jobs are a bit scarce, I really love this place. It's truly green everywhere.

Yesterday I hiked the Waterbury Trail up to Mt. Hunger and saw a 360-degree view of the state from 3500 feet. It was a vicious hike because it had been raining since the night before and the trail was basically a smaller-scale stream. I had to tuck my poles a couple of times so that I could use both hands to pull myself up some of the soaked boulder scrambles. I loved it. It made me a lot more tired than I remember, but I felt exhilarated when I got back to the van. As strange as it might be, this was the first hike of this Summer I did el lobo solo. Stephanie stayed at Amy and Pete's while I was out. I wish she could have seen the summit, but I was glad to move at my own pace for the jaunt. Selfish, aren't I?

We've been toying with the idea of settling in this state because it's so amazing. People in the crosswalks here have the right of way - NO MATTER WHAT. There is a really unique school in Warren, Vermont called Yestermorrow that teaches a bunch of courses on design combined with building. Most places focus on one or the other, but in this school, you learn design elements and then you build whatever it is you've designed. It's mostly for architects, landscape and furniture designers, but I think anyone would benefit from their courses.

Pete gave us the tour of his company, Magic Hat Brewing in Burlington this afternoon. It's pretty cool how this little brewery is growing. We sampled quite a few of their local offerings, so Pete had to drive us home :) Pete works in the lab making sure that each brew that's released for the public is top quality and won't degrade beyond a reasonable level during the life of the beer. He checked while he was in Michigan, and the Magic Hat beer he found was only two or three weeks old! That's pretty amazing if you check some of the other domestic brews that take 3 months to get to a shelf where we can buy them. I highly recommend this beer.

Well, the peeps are getting dinner ready, so I best be heading down to pitch in. Maybe we won't be leaving as soon as we planned...

green mountains outside the window

2008-08-19T12:50:00.003-04:00

We made it to Vermont a couple days ago. We're here with Amy and Pete this week and then we're heading back. While they're at work, I think about my mixed feelings of being excited to go back to a place I know, to be productive, to make some money instead of just spending it...and I'm also a little worried because I think it will feel strange. I'm going to want to leap back in but I'll have to wait since we're going to fly to visit Camille on Lummi Island and then fly to Wilmington for the Morrill family get-together. (Isn't it crazy that a multi-city ticket flying from Grand Rapids to Seattle and then to Wilmington was cheaper than a ticket from Grand Rapids to Wilmington? With ridiculosity like that, it's a sure sign that we're supposed to go.) Anyway...it'll only be once we drive back to Michigan with Tim's folks, get my car at their house, and then drive the Civic again for the first time since May back over to Grand Rapids that we'll really stop. Stop, stop, stop. That will be the first week of October -- two months later than originally semi-imagined. But isn't that the way things go?

Today I answered Amy and Pete's phone and it happened to be her dad on the other end. Mark is a cool guy who I liked immediately when I met him at Amy's wedding. We chatted on the phone for about 15 minutes and he asked me the ever-burning question of what I was planning to do after the trip. He mentioned that he'd had the impression from hanging out with me and from hearing about me from Amy that I was a mix of practical and idealistic. It cracked me up a little bit so I had to tell him about the Practical Wonderer title for Fourth Sector. I hear these same things from smart people with insights about who I am, and it makes me feel a little comforted that maybe there is some continuity here...that I'm not just a big blob of contradictions and likes and dislikes, swirling around in an amorphous puddle of blather.

And then again, from other smart people whose opinions I trust, I get the same advice: chill out and don't take every bleeding thing so seriously. And if you can manage that, try having some fun too. Amy told me this over tea and a wonderful molasses crinkle at the Langdon Street Cafe in beautiful Montpelier. It's the same advice Camille gave me about a month ago, and I know plenty of other people have. Maybe the best way for me to take this advice right now is to stop all the worrying about whether or not I'll have it all figured out by the time we get to Grand Rapids, and whether or not I'm letting anyone or myself down by not knowing, or if I'll wreck my entire future by not knowing. Why are these things always easier said than done?

Anyway...I'm going to head down to the kick-ass co-op and get some risotto fixins for dinner tonight. I also need to pick up a small canvas at the local art store so that I can paint a picture to send back to Bear and Honey at the AT hostel we stayed at before leaving Maine and crossing the White Mountains in New Hampshire. (P.S. Now that I've seen them, I definitely want to do the Presidential hike through there on some future vacation.) I did a stupid thing and painted my first picture ever and then couldn't say no when asked to give it away. So now I have to pay for it and do an even stupider thing, which is paint and mail them a different one and ask for my other painting back. It's a long story, but I feel like a real moron about it.

swimming in the ocean!

2008-08-15T19:24:00.002-04:00

Today I swam in the ocean for the first time. My legs are still salty slippery. Wee!

Thanks to all the commenters for boosting me up while I was down, by the way.

The sun came out the next day and I felt much better as I learned about jibs and tacks and mainsails and tillers and all kinds of other crazy sailing terminology that I've since forgot. Sailing = fun + confusion. Aside from the sweetness of the lesson, Tim and I were also able to stop while we were having fun. Ususally we blow right by fun and tire ourselves out and then start fighting. Woo hoo!

And, quickly, to elaborate on Tim's last post so Emmy Lou doesn't get all the credit, let me describe these four dogs because they are hil-ar-i-ous. Emmy is a beagle/rat terrier mix with a head slightly too small for her body. She's shy but extremely sweet once she gets over it. Dotty is a beagle mutt of some sort who I thought was too old to move and got suckered into pampering her until I got a leash out and she saw it and went insane. She also cannot avoid any puddle, no matter how big or how small. Shemya is a dog that looks like a pure black lab until she stands up, and then you can see that she's a mix with a basset hound. Looking at her is like looking at an optical illusion. So is listening to her: she snorts like a pig when she's on a walk. And then there's elegant looking Phoebe, a beautiful but unfortunate golden retriever who her own loving rescuer/owner has admitted "is no genetic prize." She's had 2 hip replacements; her first at 9 months. The dogs are a motley pack who sometimes sit on the couch and for no reason humans can understand, tip their noses to the ceiling and are lead by the beagles in howling at either the joy or the ennui of their lives.

And finally, the last thing I have to say on this super quick little post: no matter how calm the ocean looks, it's really not. All it takes for one to understand this is to get out on a dingy and try to drive in 4 foot waves to an old lobster boat that doesn't look trustworthy and sounds like it is going to fall apart outright when started.

I'm on a guest computer so I can't post the pictures from these extravaganzas, but I shall. We're with Alexa/Skywalker, one of the people that Tim/Sheriff walked the AT with. I've been getting to hear another side of the stories Tim has told. She also makes it sound like a chosen misery endured to figure something out about life, the universe, and everything (but I don't think that she came up with 42 after Katahdin).

It's time for a night with London Porter and Mint Newman-Os. After this weekend, it's to Vermont for a stay with Amy and Pete, and then we make the last leg back to our lake-locked, depression-enduring, four-seasoned, friend-and-family-filled, ham-on-bun-eating, auto-driven, deer-wandered homeland. Ah, Michigan.

Inertia

2008-08-14T10:27:00.005-04:00

The sci-tech encyclopedia defines inertia as the property of matter which manifests itself as a resistance to any change in the motion of a body. Word.

I think I've hit that point where the forces that propel me down the road have balanced with those pulling us back home leaving me in a sort of state of paralysis. I feel the urge to go, but don't want to move at the same time. But this all varies with whatever environment is current, of course. If we're sleeping on the side of a road and haven't been clean in three days, my urge to move is quite strong. On the other hand, since we've been living with our friends, Steve and Nancy, in their beautifully comfortable home overlooking Penobscot Bay, we're a little more disinclined to budge.

Our trip of a few months is nearing its completion as we head a little further Down East to visit one of my trail buddies, Skywalker, and then on back to Vermont to Amy and Pete's place. After that, it's back to Michigan for us and I think we'll be ready. But for the past few days, we've loved our time in Lincolnville with Steve and Nancy. We've walked four dogs, sailed boats, motored an ex-lobster boat across the bay, eaten amazing gourmet meals and generally lounged like Emmy Lou, above.

She's eye-balling me now like she can tell I typed her name, so I guess that means we'll be off for a walk shortly. I think we're going to try to stop by the Windsor Chair Company which is just around the corner. I hear the shop's for sale if anyone out there is looking to build some furniture...

in Lincolnville, Maine

2008-08-12T15:02:00.004-04:00

I got some lip from BozoByker yesterday for not having posted in the last 10 days. I guess I feel a little bad, but I think, Dad, that only you and Mom are reading this thing. Isn't it always the way that when everybody else loses interest, at least your parents are still keeping track?

I've been waiting to get to Maine since we started the trip. It's been this mysterious geography that has captured my imagination and, in all honesty, kept me committed to continuing our travels because I didn't want to end the trip without getting here. Isn't it always the way that when you yearn for something you don't know for so long, it's not what you had pictured? It reminds me of a quote that I read a while ago in Yoga Journal that is true but a bit depressing if you take it too far: "Without hope there is no disappointment." I guess it's not that Maine isn't cool, but it's been grey and cold since we got here a few days ago and we've been in places people love to come for vacation during the busiest tourist time of the year.

Since we crossed back into the east, I've been doing a lot less writing in general. Despite the rockiness of our start and figuring out how we were going to do this trip, it seems like we took our time a lot more in the west and had many more days to ourselves. The eastern part of our trip, thankfully, is a lot more about visiting people. Even with all of the pain that it seems a lot of people are going through in their lives, we've had a spectacular time seeing friends and family. I don't think if we hadn't taken this trip that I would ever have gotten to spend the kind of time with some of Tim's friends that I have. For the people we've seen, the eastern half has been worth it.

But I have to say--because I'm me and I can't not say it--that the east is not hospitable to the wind-born traveler the way the west is. Towns here padlock their water pumps and don't have nearly as many public toilets (or secret little squat spots) as the west does. It's ironic that through Nevada and Utah we never really had an issue with water, yet in ocean front Connecticut we got seriously dehydrated. People notice if you aren't showered that morning. The traffic is unbearable. And the beautiful ocean scenery is now available only for the highest bidder. I despise our country's lack of thought about the Commons and about public land, and I equally despise the general populace's lack of responsibility that has fostered the idea that everything needs to be locked down when not in use. It's been a kick in the teeth to wander back into civilization and be reminded that I live in a country in which people are always concerned most about themselves...and that I'm probably infected with the disease too.

I guess I'm homesick. I had such a great time playing with the nieces and nephew, hanging out in Katie and Jacob's full house in South Carolina. Ahhh...a full house and a family nested together in noisy, joyful domesticity! I didn't want to leave, except I knew that by leaving it meant that I'd be back in some place I would be able to get around in without a prayer and a map sooner than if I didn't. As the rain poured down in a storm blown in by the Atlantic today, I sat in Steve and Nancy's house up on a hill in Maine, sipping tea and looking out at the weather instead of being in it. Ahhh...the peace of a quiet, furnished kitchen!

I can't think of a good way to wrap this up. I'm just a little blue today, like the weather.

And, just for the record: no, I haven't figured out yet what I want to do for a job. I'm guessing it'll be a while yet.

A blast from way back...

2008-07-31T09:56:00.005-04:00

We're staying near Bryson City with Jen and Derek, great friends from when I was living in Boyne City building boats for Van Dam Woodcraft, working at the Red Mesa Grill and Dave's Boot Shop (Dave and Lynne's awesome old fashioned low-tech high-end footwear shop in Petoskey - proof that you don't need a website to have a thriving business). Derek, Jen and I've been reminiscing about cardboard sled races, donkey basketball, Jen vacuuming the front yard, Derek and me scaring the pants off of trick-or-treaters, kicking the hack during breaks at the boat shop and walking for ice cream at the DQ. I realized what a bummer it was that we get together once a year and talk about all the old great memories and that we're not together enough anymore to create as many more funny stories as we'd like - especially some new ones that include Stephanie. Life moves wicked fast, friends.

Here are some shots from the olden days: Derek and me sanding. Sometimes we would spend several 10-hour days in a row doing nothing but sanding. Oy. Notice Derek using the Bosch 1293D half-sheet sander. I tried to teach him how to use it properly and he gives me a hard time for it every time we see each other...

Here's me with my pet monkey, Derek while we were rolling his boat:

Denver photos finally in!

2008-07-31T09:47:00.004-04:00

Here are a couple of shots from our moonlight ride in Denver. From fore to background, that's Stuart, Charlie and Jim goofing off...

...and you know these other two cycle monkeys.

Hell, Heaven, and the Doctor in North Carolina

2008-07-30T12:49:00.005-04:00

We arrived in the Smoky Mountains last Friday, and found a stretch of the Appalachian Trail to hike then next day by Fontana Dam. We were going to do a good day hike on it, but 2 wasps' nests caused a panic attack (for guess who) and ended our hike after a mile. I still did get to see an AT shelter, and got to imagine Tim laying there all sweaty and stinky with his trail buddies. It felt like the ghost of his old self was kind of hanging around, poking at the man standing there with me saying, "You know you want to do this again..." I could see it...he had his secretive smile on and twitching eyebrows that are a dead giveaway.

We ended up finding a decent campground at Deep Creek, where all the locals and some other Southerners go to tube down the creek and spend a week eating S'mores, hot dogs, and Budweiser. We decided we'd stick with our grub but were not going to miss the local tubing adventure. We had an awesome time floating around, hooting and hollering like a couple of idiots, and getting dumped out of our tubes. I suppose we had it so easy that we needed something to make us a little miserable.

So we decided to spend our last day before heading to Derek and Jen's place in the hills around Bryson City doing an overnight backpacking trip. Like dutiful little backpackers, we went to ask a ranger about the trails we'd picked out. The most helpful information he gave us was a raised eyebrow and a caution that copperheads are mean, and then sent us on our way. I suppose maybe we could have read more into the eyebrow but as it happened, we didn't. Our first day was going to be 7.8 miles on the Noland Divide Trail, cutting off onto Pole Creek Road Trail once we were deep in the Smokies for another 3.3 before coming to one of the designated backcountry sites just a few paces down our last trail turn onto Deep Creek Trail. We'd spend the night and then hike out the 7 or so miles back to the car.

It seemed strenuous but reasonable, so we loaded up our ridiculously heavy packs and set off (really, who packs PB in a glass jar, carries four apples and potatoes and onions and a zucchini and all kinds of water-laden crap into the woods?). Being a divide, we knew Noland would require some uphill walking since we'd be on a ridge most of the time. We started going uphill. A mile in I had my first hot-spot on my left heel, which we taped. Another mile in and a hornet scare later, I had my right heel taped, but not before blistering was averted. I was quite pleased then to think that there were 1500 bears in the Smokies, all of whom loved to eat wasp and hornet nests. Bring them out! I'd rather see a black bear than a wasp nest any day. The afternoon was hot and waterless and as we kept trudging, we began to notice that we had not taken one flat step since the beginning. The day ended up being utter hell, and I asked Tim at one point when we were supposed to start having fun or be rewarded for our work with a beautiful vista, and he couldn't answer. We climbed over 2,000 feet for all 7.8 miles until after 5 in the afternoon. We still had 3.3 miles to go to get to the campsite, and we were worried about getting there and getting set up before dark.

As soon as we turned onto Pole Creek Road Trail, the trail went downhill hard - we were descending to the stream, of course. After going up for almost 8 miles, my legs were so jelly-like and wobbly that I had serious trouble planting my feet properly. We weaved in and out of the stream, crossing over slippery mossy rocks. I slipped several times and Tim fell once. Honestly, I felt like crying but knew anything other than walking as fast as possible would deter me from my bed.

We finally made it to the campground where bear lines were already hung (yay!). We got naked immediately and jumped into the stream and then started hanging out our clothes, setting up the tent, and cooking food. As I cooked, spilling fuel all over the ground, and Tim set up the tent, I kept hearing noises off in the distance. I was already exhausted and anxious, and when the thunderclap finally came that had been too far to really pinpoint, I'd had it. I lost my appetite and got nauseous just as a storm rolled in. Tim took off all his clothes and walked around eating in his raincoat as we tried to get our packcovers on our food and smelly items hung up on the bear lines. Because I couldn't eat, we had almost an entire dinner left over that we somehow had to get off the ground. Tim used two binder clips through a mesh bag to hook onto the line, and we said "to hell with it!" and crawled into the tents just as the rain started to pour. From 9 PM until 2 AM it rained hard, with lots of thunder and lightning. Sleep was semi-futile despite fatigue and a bunch of trail horses and their riders thundered by early in the morning to get us up anyway.

When we crawled out of the tent and I went to take the food down, the binder clips were hanging onto literally one thread of mesh, and it fell off into my hands. It's a miracle it didn't come down in the night and attract a big ol' hungry bear. I retaped my heels and two toes that were blistered and we set off for a muggy 7 mile walk. Both of us were in agony. Our feet hurt, our hip belts hurt, and Tim's shoulders hurt from the combination of tubing and packing. It was utter misery. Why, oh why, is this something we do for recreation?

Just as we were getting to the end of the trail, we started walking through packs of butterflies. Tiny blue moths fluttered around our heads, yellow monarchs fluttered in front of us, and these beautiful black butterflies with irridescent blue back wings dazzled us. It was an amazing spectacle. As we got closer to the campground, the trail comes up on where all the tubers put in the creek. We got some pretty funny looks, probably because of our funny smell. It's so nuts to smell the scent of clean, sun-screened human when you've been sweating your ass off for the last day and a half in a muggy forest. Tim reported that the most funny looks were from younger girls and women toward me. I'm not sure what that means, but at that point, all I really cared about was taking my boots off and stripping off whatever of my clothes I could without getting a citation and jumping into the creek.

When we got back the creek was so, so cold on our hot bodies. We sat down in the creek amidst vacationing families and church buses in our underwear and felt a kind of heavenly rapture I've only experienced after hiking - when the pack is off, when the boots are off and you know you don't have to put them on again...when you know an ice cream cone is within reach and a shower and dry clothes and deodorant and a toilet...when your butt is on the bottom of the river and your feet aren't supporting anything, and the water on them is cold, cold, cold. There's nothing like it. It's like emerging out of the pit of hell into a bliss you've been dreaming about for miles and it's just as good if not better than you imagined -- something which I find to rarely be the case.

I'm not sure if that makes it worth it...I'm just really glad not all backpacking trips are that intense.

We're now in Derek and Jen's house, where I've been doting on Dr. Kensington, a sweet kitty cat who I loved the second I laid eyes on him. The new puppy, Inge, doesn't seem to like us all that much. When we got here yesterday, they weren't home yet from errand running, so I laid out my towel and fell instantly asleep while the Dr. purred next to me. When they got home, Derek told us that his neighbor had called him on his cell phone, reporting that there were 2 people in the yard and to see if he needed to come out and shoot some warning shots to scare us off. We're out of the Smokies, but apparently we won't be out of the woods for a while.

At any rate, we're established as bonafide visitors so no one should shoot at us for the rest of our stay here. I think I may wander down to the garden and see if some beans are ready for picking.

Kids?

2008-07-24T17:14:00.002-04:00

Before Stephanie and I were married, we cleared up the whole matter of whether we would have children or not. We agreed that we had no idea.

Our stay in Nashville is unique because it's our first stop where our hosts have children. We'll have another in Fort Mill, SC with my sister and her family, so it'll be nearly back-to-back parenting observation opportunities.

Whenever we've been together around children, Stephanie and I have privately engaged in lengthy and detailed conversations about how we'd do things if those kids were ours, doing what we agreed with and avoiding what we did not. Many of the parents out there I'm sure are saying in their heads, "It's all well and good to armchair quarterback this game, but just wait until YOU have kids." But I think this time in our lives is extremely valuable, if not immediately applicable. We've had the chance to discuss strategies and philosophies, scenarios and values without the pressure of a hurt, angry, sad, hyperactive, misbehaving child giving us the eye at the same time.

For me, I think one of the most important values I would like to instill seems to be one of the hardest to do in my own life: granting forgiveness. It seems like I can't shield myself much less another person from the forever touted message that vengeance solves problems. I see it in my own life when I can't keep from being defensive toward Stephanie, when I can't leave old hurts out of current arguments and when I feel the need to "hurt back" when I've taken a blow or two. How would I teach my child that even if it means that she might suffer due to her non-violent response to a violent act (either emotionally or physically) we believe it is still the best way to react?

I haven't seen the latest Batman movie yet, but I'm dying to and I already know how it is going to go: a bad guy will commit some atrocity against innocents and Batman will exact "justice" (i.e. revenge). At the end of the movie, my adrenaline will be pumping and still exhilarated, I'll contemplate signing up for a martial arts class. Blast ahead 10 years and on my left is my little boy smiling up at me. He's wondering when he can get his first Bat-A-Rang to kill bad guys and I'm trying to figure out how to tell him The Joker should have been stopped through nonviolent means and shown compassion.

"And by the way, son, I don't have an explanation for that fit I pitched in front of you when Stephanie ate my last gummy bear."

Does this count as my morning page?

2008-07-24T09:39:00.002-04:00

As we reclined last night digesting the delicious veggie enchilada surprise Joan (Jay's mom) made along with the 3,000 pound zucchini cake topped with real heavy whipping cream, the subject turned as it often does to talk of the heart and of God and what we thought about all that and where we were. I met Jay and Shelli a year and a half ago and we talked about the same things and at the time I think we were all in different places than where we are now. Jay remarked that it was interesting that when we get together, it seems like the conversation always turns here, while it seems that in general, when people who are all over the map in terms of their hunches and ideas about God get together, this is one of the most avoided topics.

I realized that with almost everybody we've visited or met so far on the trip, we've talked about spirituality a lot. That doesn't surprise me too much since making some connection with that universal presence is a big part of this trip for both of us, and I think we both feel like we're floundering around in murky water. Sometimes it's been comfortable and fun to share and listen with others and other times it hasn't. But I don't think there's been anybody we've seen that have had the same ideas when you get past the similar labels and down into the deeper core of people. Some have been in a spot of questioning and transitioning long-held beliefs and trying to figure out where to stand on shifting sand; some have quietly assumed that there's something like a God or universal presence without needing to think much about it or have a desire to pursue its meaning at all for their lives; some have been straight up atheists; some have held traditional conservative beliefs about the American Christian God; some have felt uprooted and almost abandoned by a God they thought they were walking with and now don't understand and can't find; some have found God in the poems of Mary Oliver; some have been ethical but non-attending Catholics; some have been anti-religion Jesus followers; some have been religion-friendly Jesus followers...I can't even imagine how many other people we passed by or briefly talked to that had other ideas about what divinity looked like, felt like, how we accessed it and what it meant.

It strikes me over and over as so interesting that we can all have such different ideas and experiences of what "God" means and is, but yet most of us still seem to think that our one way of understanding God still has to be the right way and that everyone must share the same conceptualization and opinions. Isn't the closest we'll ever get a conceptualization that feels like we're on the right track at this particular moment?

But even writing that, I can feel the absurdity creeping in. I have my ideas about what God means...it's the power of creativity and not destruction, of building up and not tearing down, of connecting and not separating, of loving and not hating, of understanding and not judging. And it gets my panties all up in a bunch when I hear people casting aspersions on XYZ group of people and separating them out from the rest of us and then claiming they're doing God's work in love to make XYZ better than they are - whatever God it is that they say they're following.

Maybe this is why people avoid talking about it. There are no unarguable answers, but we each still feel like we do have a few right, unarguable answers. It's also interesting to me how some people can not wonder. They can comfortably sit with atheism or unexamined beliefs -- or just accept that there must be a God and give it the mental thumbs up and go on with life without a care in the world. Through all of my various stages, including my high school atheism, I've woken up almost every day and wondered, curiously poking around to see what I run into. Many times, it's felt like a burdening cloud on my brain because I'm always wondering but don't really seem to come up with much, returning constantly to square one and saying, "But is there anything really beyond this?" I don't particularly want to have a world without layers, without mystery and divinity. As Mary Oliver writes, "each pond with its blazing lilies is a prayer heard and answered lavishly every morning." I'd love to understand like the blazing lilies on the pond.

But anyway. I'm going to follow Camille's advice from the other day and go lighten up and have some fun...for at least 10 minutes. I brood so much you'd think I'd start laying eggs.

a silly post

2008-07-23T18:46:00.009-04:00

I just find these pictures amusing.

We're in Nashville playing in the pool with the Elkin kids and hanging out with Jay and Shelli. Lightheartedness abounds.

Moonlighting in Denver

2008-07-20T14:42:00.002-04:00

Ah, Denver. We have had an amazing time here hanging out with Sheralee (and kitty Mia) and Maria. Sheralee and Maria are Burt's friends, who became Tim's friends, and who I'd now like to consider my friends. I think I've now joined the "incestuous group of people" or as another Grand Rapids friend would say, it's also known as a circle of friends. (Haha, look at the shout-outs!)

We've basically done nothing here except play Catchphrase and lay around. It's been so wonderful to do nothing. No driving, no sightseeing, just hanging. I feel rejuvenated and completely relaxed except for my ass.

And that's a good story.

Some of Sheralee and Maria's friends are a crew named Jim, Stuart, and Charlie (the unicorn!). At a barbecue last night, Jim mentioned that they were going to ride the Moonlight Classic. It's a Denver bike ride to support charity, and you can ride either 8 or 15 miles through the city with 5,000 other bikers at midnight. We of course really wanted to participate.

Because all of the people around Maria and Sheralee are awesome as well, we ended up with all the gear we needed: bikes, helmets, water bottles. A woman named Jen who I'd met only that night lent me her ultrasweet ulatralight ultrafast Bianchi bike with the original Bianchi colors. Then Jim and Stuart and Charlie happily allowed us to crash their bike party and invited us to ride with them underneath the full moon and through the warm Denver night. Passerby slapped our hands as we rode by and cheered. I felt like such a rockstar, and I didn't even have a costume.

I think more than the laying around, I feel rejuvenated because of the outpouring of generosity, sharing, love, and encouragement that all of these old and new Denverites have showed us. We've been sheltered, showered, fed, and been gone out of many people's way for. We're ready for the long ride to Nashville, where I think we'll probably experience more of the same. It really feels sometimes like we have the best people in the world in our lives.

Much love to you all.

one last thing: on showers

2008-07-18T18:12:00.002-04:00

I forgot to mention something that is worthy to note. We haven't been showering much on this trip, as all who've seen us can confirm. It's such a delicacy now to be sitting at Sheralee's table with a bathroom in sight, where a shower with great water pressure can be had at any time of the day.

Aside from the hairiness that not showering often can cause, I have to mention one of our extremely unglamorous situations. One desperate day in Oregon I wanted a shower - the real deal. Not the showers in a bag (8" by 8" cloths that report to give you that refreshed showered feeling without delivering). My dear sweet husband Tim, the real live MacGyver, has a great system where he rigs up our water bag and we take turns holding it for each other. (We nicknamed him Jimmy, which confuses people at water stations when we ask each other if we've filled up Jimmy or not.) Anyway. There were no spots to be had in the day use park we were in except for the handicapped portajohn.

So. We took a shower in a vault toilet.

Let this be a testament to my grit and cheapskatery.

#5: Arches National Park in Utah

2008-07-18T17:56:00.010-04:00

The travel book for Utah makes the state look really great. After our drive through it, we can say with some confidence that they really have to pick and choose. Seeing a massive dry lake covered in salt that gleams white like a baking skull is interesting, but I wouldn't call it welcoming. Arches National Park and our drive north on 128 to get back to the freeway made up for it. 128 is basically a canyon drive between the Colorado river and massive red walls. I can't really describe what it feels like to be so tiny against these cliffs, except that it again felt a little like we were in the Lord of the Rings.

I admit that I'm a tree person, but the rocks in Arches are really something serious. When you look at a rock and can see the lines that wind and sand and water have carved in it and take a second to realize that this has been in formation since before the wheel, it kind of sucks the air out of your lungs. Aside from the snarky, rude foreign tourists (nationalities not disclosed so as not to sully relations) we ran into at the park, it really felt like we could have been wandering around about a million years ago...except that this would have all been covered in water and swamps then...but let's not split hairs.

We have so many pictures of everything. It's hard to pick. But here are some goodies.

#4 Highway 50 in Nevada

2008-07-18T17:53:00.005-04:00

People get bored on the Loneliest Road in America. That must explain the shoe tree. As far as this is concerned, Brooklyn ain't got nothin' on Nevada!

#3 Desolation was good for us

2008-07-18T17:39:00.008-04:00

A few miles before you hit Lake Tahoe in California, there's a really great trailhead in the El Dorado National Forest. We pulled in there after a dinner we ate on the side of mountain road where the noise of engine breaking dulled a tense and unhappy conversation us two lovebirds were having. This particular spot was right on the border of the Desolation Wilderness Area, and we had a feeling it would be special when we were treated to silence and a beautiful moonrise on top of white rocks that had been carved smooth by glaciers.

We woke up early the next morning to get in a hike before it got too hot. We were in good moods but still maybe a bit uptight after our fighting the day before. In between two round white cliffs there was a silver waterfall called Horsetail Falls. We headed for the falls.

A little ways past the line into the Desolation Wilderness, we discovered a deep swimming hole in the cool, cool river. It was only about 9 in the morning, but it was already hot and we were ready to be cleansed physically and mentally. We stripped down and jumped into the water. It was crystal clear - over our heads deep and you could see the rocks in the bottom in detail. The clarity and the cold reminded me of Lake Superior. It was a transcendent experience.

The comedy of this hike: as soon as we were naked a helicopter flew over us 3 times. Just as we got out, we passed a dad and his two daughters. Then we found a pinecone as big as my head.

#2 redwoods

2008-07-18T17:17:00.004-04:00

The first redwood we saw came out of the dark as we ended our hell drive through wildfires and cliffs. It appeared through a fog and was so startling that Tim swerved a little bit. They really looked like the legs of giants. They are the world's silent timekeepers, living thousands of years and surviving fires, floods, and insect plagues. They survive everything, that is, except for humans. One story we read described the plan of early loggers to cut down a 3,200 year old tree. Once they were finished, they then left it lying in the woods. Their greed made them too short-sighted to realize that they'd never be able to move it.

I feel a special affection and reverence for ancient trees that I don't feel the same way when I look at other ancient things like rocks and fossils and gems. Trees like this aren't just ancient - they're still alive. THey stay alive so patiently and steadfastly through all kinds of adversity. They're strong and massive and continue to do something (grow) with such a singular purpose for so long. It amazes me. I really think we have a lot to learn from trees. If, that is, we can leave a few of them standing.

the promised pics in order. #1: wildfires

2008-07-18T17:14:00.006-04:00

The sun looks to me like a smashed peach. As we drove through tiny mountain forest towns, the only people we saw were fire crews. Signs in the windows made by children said, "We love firefighters" and "Thank you firefighters for saving our homes." Eerie is one of the best words to describe this drive.

And no, we have not tampered with the color of the pictures. That's really what it looked like.

Miles to go before I sleep...

2008-07-18T16:31:00.003-04:00

Pictures to come soon...first, a summary of what's been up:

So we went to the Oregon Country Fair and saw a bunch of near-naked hippies eating frozen bananas and vegan coconut ice cream. It was crazy hot that day but there was plenty of shade and sprinklers distributed throughout the festival grounds for refreshment. We had such a great time and would highly recommend the festival to anyone who is in Oregon near Eugene in July. Our friends Ginny and John housed our tired, road-weary butts in Eugene and Stephanie and Ginny made us a homemade pasta dinner. It was amazing.

Heading south from Eugene through wildfire plagued northern California, we began one of the most harrowing parts of our journey thus far. From road closings to driving through hours of yellow-orange smoke haze, we finally made it to Fort Bragg, California, home of the College of the Redwoods Fine Furniture School and sea glass beaches. To make a long story shorter, we met four previous students, three of which are instructors now and think that this school is tops on our list of where we might be in the future. We're a little shaky about Fort Bragg, but it seems like a cool small community that we might become a part of for a while. We'll see...

After California, we zipped through Nevada, skinny-dipped, saw Lake Tahoe, about 1000 casinos. I can't possibly exaggerate how many opportunities one has to blow his money in Nevada. I swear they will start putting slot machines between the urinals in the gas station restrooms soon. You might win the jack-potty.

Western Utah made me feel like there are places on this planet where man is not supposed to ever go unless he is on his way elsewhere. Surprisingly enough, some people have stayed in this forsaken wasteland and have planted lawns. Arches National Park redeemed our "quick" ride through Utah.

We're in Denver until Sunday and staying with Sheralee, a good friend transplanted from Grand Rapids here in the mile-high city. We've already hung out with Maria, Jim and new friend Stuart and had some great beer (see Old Chub). Today, Stephanie and I decided that we're about out of gas for seeing the sights and are ready to take the most direct routes to visit our loved ones as we can. For those of you along this route, that means our schedule has changed again and we'll let you know how much sooner to expect us :)

More to come soon...

oops on Denver general delivery

2008-07-18T12:31:00.002-04:00

Expect a cool post soon, but here's a poopy one. Apparently, the post office here in Denver that we said you could send a general delivery to doesn't accept general delivery. Anything you may have sent will go back to you. Giant argh.

But, we called our next stop to make sure that they can take general delivery and they do. Stupid big cities, I tell ya.

Here's the next one:

General Delivery
c/o Stephanie and Tim Pierce
Bryson City, NC 28713

More soon...

Two's the Charm

2008-07-10T20:36:00.002-04:00

I saw it first in an email from Ginny (Eugene, not UP) and then while talking to a lady at the first library we were at today: you simply must go to the Oregon Country Fair.

We listened, so here we are. We took a detour from the windy 58 degree Pacific coast and are here in Veneta, OR, where it's 81 and calm and people everywhere are donning kilts, glitter, bikini tops, fake breasts, and lots and lots of tie-dye in preparation for tomorrow's kick-off. What with our deep sandal tan lines, slightly disheveled appearance, and futon lodged in our van, we'll fit right in.

:)

i agree with tim's previous post

2008-07-10T13:45:00.010-04:00

We're enjoying the road at the same time as missing the roots. I described it to a friend the other day by saying that when we left on this trip, I imagined us as seeds. We were taking to the wind, waiting to find where we can grow. My little seedling self looks down sometimes and says, "All this air stuff is great, but to really grow I need to put some roots down." I hope when I feel like a tree I won't feel like I want to be the bird landing on me to fly away. Ah, the human condition of discontent.

But after saying that, as I struggled through another set of morning pages the other day (not sure what I'm doing with those, but I'm doing them as I planned...) I was asking myself the question of time yet again and how to fit everything in that we want out of life. A sweet delayed awakening in bed and then yoga, a walks, morning pages, a good breakfast...all before 10? Jobs, family, friends, kids if you want them, pets, "serious" writing, garden, meals, the administrative pieces of life, recreation and daydreaming, la la la la, the list goes on...how is there time for it all? I've asked myself and other people this so much and all the answers have been unsatisfying. You have to make the time/take the time...the things that you value will take up your time...

But what if there's not enough time? And then I thought something a little different. What if there's plenty of time, except the way that we've divided up our lives into boxes in this postmodern age has made time a resource, and a scarce one at that. What if compartmentalizing all these pieces of life instead of having them be interconnected, fulfilling many at once and without the effort of trying for it, has made our lives as hectic as they are? Compounded by our growing desires to have more, see more, do more, experience more, it seems like we're doing less and enjoying it less.

Someone the other day asked me if after this trip we were going to go and do it in Europe or other places. I immediately thought to myself, "Oh, yes!" And then beyond the excitement of seeing a new continent, heard all the voices in my head that have told me over the years that you haven't made it until you've traveled globally, you haven't seen anything, you have a small life, you have no stories, you don't have good experiences, you are not sophisticated, you are a sheltered and hopelessly naive person if you haven't seen Paris, London, Bulgaria, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Turkey, blah blah blah. But how is this travel lust any different from the conspicuous consumption of electronics or purses or shoes or cars? Or what about the conspicuous consumption of experiences? I can't tell you how many other travelers I've seen on this trip jump out of their cars, take a quick picture, and then head out. You may have the photo to prove you've looked at an amazing thing, but I don't believe you can see it that way, experience it, take it in. How many beautiful things can you look at in quick succession before they lose their awe, their poetry?

I'm so glad we cut back on all the places we were going to make sure that we "saw" on this trip. I'm so glad we did it early on.

Now that I have all that vomit out, I have 10 minutes left on this public computer and I haven't even gotten to get on my tirade about the combination of overregulation, irresponsibility, and capitalist conspiracies to get travelers to spend money that have spawned the ubiquitous "no overnight parking," and "fee areas." Another day.

Hope you enjoyed some of the pictures of the poetry we've seen here on the Oregon coast amidst my ranting.

Cheese and Breakers

2008-07-10T13:08:00.002-04:00

We've reached the ocean for sure. I can tell because many shops here sell "global clothing". Near the ocean here, this means "brightly colored solids and prints with waving palm branches and an occasional coconut". Specifically, we're in Newport, Oregon, home of a Ripley's Believe It or Not and a Wax Works museum. It's the Gatlinburg/Niagara Falls of the West, I guess. I'm still dying to buy a clam or something from a guy next to the road selling food out of the bed of his Toyota.

This morning we saw otters playing and hunting in the pounding surf. We also saw a 50-something surfer checking out the waves near the Devil's Punchbowl. He had his board tucked into a Nike surf-cozy on the top of his mini-van. It's never too late retirees!

Yesterday we visited the Tillamook Cheese Factory. We watched an assembly line of near-40lb blocks of cheese get sliced and vacuum packed for the store. They also had a display showing why milk is so expensive because there are 15 different things that they need to feed the cows (in addition to grass, that is). I wonder how much our milk would be if the cows ate what they were designed to eat? Hmmm...

I'm pretty excited because I got an email reply from the College of the Redwoods Fine Furniture School and I think we're going to stop through to visit the place. This is James Krenov's school, a man I really admire for his philosophy on workmanship and craft. He believes that the wood determines what it wants to be in the hands of the patient craftsman. I would love to go to this school, but it's really expensive for out-of-staters and ridiculously cheap for residents.

My time on the Newport Library free internet is up for now so I'll end this post. I'm enjoying the road, but definitely missing the roots.

Portland Bound!

2008-07-06T11:23:00.002-04:00

We're out the door this morning, heading South from Chehalis, Washington to try to catch the noon service at Imago Dei in Portland, Oregon. We have just spent the past several days with some old and new friends and while we're sad to leave, we're excited about being back on the road. Thank you so much, Don and Rita.

Our next possible mail pick-up will be in Denver, so if you have any little surprises for us, please mail them (by about July 9th) to:

General Delivery
c/o Tim and Stephanie Pierce
Denver, CO 80218

There will be more of these as we get farther East.

our first year anniversary

2008-07-05T19:43:00.006-04:00

On our first anniversary, we saw the most incredibly powerful waterfall that I've ever seen, as well as a grove of old growth trees that have been standing for over 1,000 years. In the midst of all that longevity, Tim and I relearned a little something about the constant compromise that marriage is. Somewhere along the way, it seems that we got surprised that we are always compromising and wondered why that was. We shared a good laugh when we realized that perhaps we'd just forgotten for a little bit what exactly it is that we're doing by sharing one life together.

Who wants to turn back? Let's vote.

2008-07-05T13:56:00.007-04:00

A little ways south of here is a place called the Dismal Nitch. It's a spot that William Clark (of Lewis and Clark fame) and part of the Corps of Discovery were trapped in during violent rainstorms just after finally seeing the Pacific Ocean with their own eyes. There was not a dry article among them. According to Clark, they sat in soaking wet clothes eating nothing but "pounded fish" for 6 days. The journal entries he made during this time weren't exactly filled with the jubilation one would expect from someone who was on the verge of reaching his goal after 2+ years in the journey. We have it sooooooo good these days.

The journey of the Corps of Discovery was a remarkable one in so many ways. It involved people from a variety of backgrounds: from white American aristocrats to French fur traders, to impetuous and impulsive energetic young soldiers, an amazing native American woman and her baby and a black man who was a slave at the time. Back in the "normal" everyday world, these people would probably have had very little to do with each other beyond what their stations dictated they provide to each other. In the wilderness, these people worked together toward the common goal of helping each other survive crossing thousands of miles through rough lands, through sickness, harsh weather, encounters with potentially hostile native Americans, and suffering the lack of food and shelter on several occasions. The Corps of Discovery accomplished a multitude of amazing things for America and each other by overlooking what society would have considered at the time to be overwhelming differences.

Sadly, much of this unity came to an end when there was no longer a common goal to achieve. When the Corps returned, everyone but Sacagawea, the native American woman and York, the black slave received lands and money as reward for their efforts. And the beginning of the white man's conquest of the West and the displacement of native American peoples of those lands had begun. York eventually became a free man, but it was after Clark dismissed him to another owner for "becoming uppity". Imagine having stood shoulder to shoulder with a man to defend his life and then being told that your own isn't worth as much.

It's a good thing that the world has changed so much since then. Why does it seem like we need to blanket classify each other based on a single characteristic? What would happen if we decided we would engage each other holistically? Share our lives together regardless of these classifications?

Stephanie said it quite eloquently and succinctly the other day and I'll try to paraphrase: We should be spending more time figuring out why we have a problem with another person or group of people and praying how we can get over it to love them wholy and truly, and we should spend less time debating and pontificating why other people's lives and decisions are wrong compared to ours.

I love this woman.

josh ritter homeland

2008-06-28T16:10:00.002-04:00

I have six minutes left on the public computer so will have to tell you about the homeland of Josh Ritter later. Idaho's northern half has redeemed the state after my drive through the southern bit last year. Highway 12 is hands down the most beautiful drive I've ever taken. Moscow was full of weirdos and friendly people, the perfect town to have produced Josh Ritter. Now we're in "must-see" Coeur d'Alene and are set to explore it. We're hoping that there's more to it than the condos that meet our eyes.

For those of you who've asked: if you want to send us mail, do it quick. We'll be in Chehalis, WA on June 2nd and there for a few days. You can do it by sending mail to us at:

Stephanie and Tim Pierce
GENERAL DELIVERY
Chehalis, WA 98532

No trinkets or large things we'd have to pack. Much love to you all...it's time to deepen the Chaco tan lines on my feet.

we love bozeman

2008-06-28T16:04:00.006-04:00

After not shower for 5 days, we pulled into Bozeman, Montana and discovered a gem we LOVE! We checked into a hotel and showered - sweet action numero uno. Then we got to see a kick ass farmers market. Then we walked around a small town with 3 awesome independent bookstores. And good restaurants. Where we got yummy local pizza and yummy beer. And they have the greatest public library known to mankind. Bikes and pedestrians line the streets. The dogs are happy and calm. A river runs through it. We love Bozeman!

mount washburn summit video

2008-06-28T15:51:00.002-04:00

Shaky video due to wind and windedness...

yellowstone

2008-06-28T15:24:00.013-04:00

The first thing you see coming into Yellowstone's south entrance are towering walls of rock that look like they're right out of a Lord of the Rings movie. To add to the awe we were feeling, it was the first place that our National Parks Access pass got us into. $25 for $80 and counting! It was late so we ended up having to go camping in the biggest site in Yellostone - almost 400 sites were there. I was so prepared for Yellowstone rules. I'd read a million different pamphlets, websites, and books about bear safety and the proper way to keep food smells and other odors away from you and away from the scent of bears. Consequently, we were pretty surprised as we pulled into the campsite to see people washing dishes at the water stations, throwing food and wrappers into fires, throwing food away without it being bagged first, etc. And despite the 100 yard rule people are supposed to keep from bears and wolves in the park, not to mention bison, people would get out and park across the street from these animals, edging closer and closer, to get their photo op. I think they think they're in a safe zoo, or that they imagine there's still TV glass in between them and their big adventure.

Our first night we camped across beautiful Yellowstone Lake. We figured out that if we were up early, we could get to a remote site the next day, which was one of the first things that went according to plan. As we headed for the site, we had our first bear site: a mama grizzly and two cubs. A ways down the road, we saw a black bear grubbing in the grass. We got a sweeeeeeeeeeeeeet campsite at the Tower Junction, and just kept our tent there for the next 2 nights. The rest of the time, we hiked ourselves into oblivion.

We decided to summit Mount Washburn first...our map said it was a 2.5 mile hike in and back, but it failed to account for switchbacks. We kept our GPS on and when we finally crawled back to our van, it had been a 9 mile plus hike, gaining 2,000 feet on the way up and then 2,000 feet back down. The start was beautiful. It was early spring up there, so the wildflowers were out. Blue, purple, yellow, white, pink, orange...I have never seen such amazing wildflowers. As we got further up, the vegetation faded along with our breath and stamina. The wind picked up to make up for it. By the time we were to 10,000 feet, we were walking next to snowbanks that were still 15 feet high. And by the time we made the final summit to a very lonely fire-spotter ranger living quarters, the wind felt gale force strong and our feelings of triumph were wilted a bit by the whipping the altitude gave us. Us poor little flatlanders.

The next day, we played it mild and hiked Lost Lake. Aside from a swarm of mosquitoes, it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Alpine sage brush meadows with even more impressive wildflower displays. Waterfalls. Blue water reflecting snow covered mountains. Playing antelope. Trees twisted into strange shapes from the wind and providing such wonderful shade it seemed like they were there just for us--of course, they are there for themselves and everyone else, but it seemed like it at the time. Even though this was a fairly easy hike, we were so pooped from the day before that we fell into our tent exhausted in the afternoon. We slept so soundly, we didn't notice the spooked bison run through our campground a few feet from our tent. We were told about it later by some incredulous fellow campers who'd just arrived.

We left Yellowstone early in the morning on a weekday, so the roads were fairly quiet. That's probably why we were the first to come upon a subordinate grizzly in the road. (That's right - subordinate. It's a teenage bear who has recently been kicked out of mama's protection. For those of you haven't attended a Yellowstone ranger talk - put it on your To-Do list if you vist. We loved the ranger talks and I learned so much about bears that I now feel like I understand them a little more and fear them just a little less.) Cars started piling up on either side of us soon. The idiots starting trundling out of their cars, right next to the grizzly. We had stopped, trying to give the griz the 100 yards. But it was walking right toward us, and cars were lined up behind us, so we had no choice. It munched juicy green grass, not caring much about us at all, right up to our car and past. I could feel my stomach tighten a little bit, just because they are really intense looking creatures. It walked by us so close that if I'd been as big of an idiot as everyone else there, I could have reached out and touched him.

And I'm still alive. Maybe a little more so.

black hills

2008-06-25T18:53:00.002-04:00

As we made our way to the Black Hills, we hit Rapid City, South Dakota. We thought that as a major entryway into a major national forest, that it would be set up for tourists and backpackers...but we were wrong. We spent forever turning around and around in the city before fleeing to the hills and spending our first night there in the aforementioned expensive campground that caused our trip meltdown.

We realized a few things that night. That we needed to figure out how to camp for free. That we needed to scale way back on the places that we were going. That we fought the most when we spent the most time in the car rather than out and about. Our first night, we fell into uneasy slumber while all of this rolled through our heads and our first Black Hills hailstorm rolled over our heads.

We woke to a sunny morning and headed straight for the ranger station, a move that has since proved to be extremely useful. We leveled with the rangers and told them we wanted to hike and camp for free, and they told us how we could do it. We headed into the Black Elk Wilderness, and plotted out a 14 mile mountain hike that would have us sleeping out on the trail for a night while the van was parked at the trailhead. The day before our hike we spent getting our bags ready and hanging out in Hill City, which really helped to improve our mental states. Hill City was what we expected Rapid City to be. There was a cool outfitter in town and some decent people watching. We slept in the van that, and another hail storm moved over us that was extremely loud on the top of the van. As the night went on, we thought the storm had lulled but when we got out the next morning, realized that a build up of hail on the top of the van had just dulled the racket. There was still an inch of pea sized hail on the ground that morning and it stayed in many spots all through the day. Figuring that we were in for a storm the night that we were going to spend in the backcountry, we headed out prepared with warm clothes and rain gear.

The morning of the hike was intensely beautiful. Mountain streams were running high, making for many stream crossings in the middle of the trail. We rambled around and scrambled up rocks to get amazing views of the forest and the mountains. We relaxed. Toward the early afternoon, just after passing some trail horse riders, we heard grumbles of thunder. We picked up the pace, but it was to no avail: the hail came early that afternoon and we got drenched. It didn't matter to us: we were surrounded by beauty and inside rain coats so the soaking wasn't too terrible, until I realized that my backpack that I had been told was waterproof wasn't actually waterproof. If we stayed out that night, I'd be in wet clothes. So we decided to take our easy 2 day hike and do it in one day.

I'm pretty proud of the fact that we made all 14 mountainous miles in good spirits even though we were starting to get pretty tired. It was about 50 degrees when we got back to our van but I wanted a shower right then and there. Tim, in all his husbandly glory, filled up his 6L water bag and hooked it up to a tree and we showered in the freezing water in the cold air. After our teeth stopped chattering, we headed into Hill City and treated ourselves to a hot meal of local buffalo (pretty much everything in Hill City has buffalo in it). We didn't even wake up for the hail storm that night.

Sorry - no pics this time. I'm done fighting with Blogger when it doesn't want to work. We'll see if Picasa or something else can help with the picture situation but it sucks up a lot of time to sit here in coffee shops and try to get it to work.

backtrack to the badlands

2008-06-25T01:26:00.009-04:00

Before we hit the Black Hills and our trip meltdown, we hit the Badlands -- but we didn't have a chance to post any of the pictures from the Badlands on. We're resting comfortably in a hotel room in Bozeman, Montana right now, freshly showered after a 5 day shower-fast. We have a few states and about 200 pictures waiting for their chance to shine in our humble little blog. If you know your geography, you know that not only have we hit the Badlands and the Black Hills, but we've also been through Yellowstone. Stay tuned for a few posts in the next day or so before we fall offline again as we trek out to the coast. And to save you the suspense: yes, we did see bears in Yellowstone. Yes, grizzlies. Yes, more than once. No, I wasn't mauled.

It's getting late here in the mountains, so here's a few pictures of the Badlands. Tomorrow we'll post some of our saga in the Black Hills and hopefully a monster post for Yellowstone. My favorite part of the Badlands wasn't what it's reputed for. We did stop and take pictures of the stark, striated cliffs and while they were impressive and otherworldly, we really didn't linger in those parts. They're vastly inhospitable. We loved the more temperate area near Sage Creek Campground - a FREE campground out in the middle of nowhere with a great vault toilet free of stink. I could spend a week in that area just walking around the hills without ever needing to go see the scenes the Badlands is known for. Before a lighting storm right over our heads, we climbed to the top of a hill and saw a beautiful sunset and avoided the first of many bison flops. Can you spot our van and tent?

Coming up next: the Black Hills experience after we got a meltdown under our belts.

reconfiguring

2008-06-18T16:16:00.004-04:00

We have some pictures of some cool windmill farms in South Dakota, of us at the largest ball of twine, and a few other oddities. Perhaps some time we'll post them but for right now, we're more in the mood to figure out geocaching and do some trip planning. I think we're going to spend some time reconfiguring. The weather has matched our emotions: wild, vacillating, lots of breathtaking storms, many mornings of waking to brilliant sunshine and peaceful puffs of clouds in the sky. We're going offline for what could be quite a while...but who knows. Today we're planning a hike in Black Elk National Forest and we're going to figure out where it is that we really want to go on this trip...doing some storming and hopefully some forming after that.

A quick aside...if any of you are thinking of dropping the $80 bucks on an annual pass for the national parks, forests, and rec areas: think twice. It's a giant rip-off. It's not worth anything that we've discovered so far, and it certainly doesn't help you with camping site fees. It's stealth camping for the rest of the trip for us. RVs have turned camping into an expensive affair...most places are now charging the same rate for tenters as for RVers.

pictures from Minnesota

2008-06-18T15:55:00.017-04:00

Unexpected and slightly creepy Franconia Sculpture Park.

Climbing around at Interstate State Park, amidst glacial potholes ranging from 6 feet deep to vertigo-inducing deep.

Sunset at Plum Creek, just before a lightning show and thunderstorm that would have rattled Laura Ingalls Wilder's and her family's teeth.

success!

2008-06-13T22:45:00.003-04:00

The curtains are fully cut, sewn, and grommeted! Certified fight free! Tomorrow morning as we depart for the wilds, we will ceremoniously hang them for the first time in our MiniVan/MaxiFun as we swat away the jubilant Minnesotan mosquitoes.

And another thing: Tim is making me a love drink, introduced to us by our favorite North Oakians.

pre-dinner reflections on the last night at oriole lane

2008-06-13T19:16:00.005-04:00

We've got some great pics forthcoming from the travels we've been on with Nicole around the Twin Cities this past week (she's more dutiful and timely than us; see here). Aside from the deranged sculpture park we stumbled upon today, my favorite place we've been is the Interstate State Park that straddles Wisconsin and Minnesota. The St. Croix river cuts in between steep cliffs that are pocked with glacial potholes. The "potholes" range from six feet deep with algae glazing the tops of the ponds left inside to massive gashes that are a little dizzying to stare down into. Unfortunately, Christopher was unable to damn the man so he had to work during this particular adventure.

We're slated to head out of their welcoming and comfortable house tomorrow. Destination: Badlands. We're still trying to finish the curtains. Nicole taught me how to use a sewing machine last night and our zig-zaggily hemmed curtains are ready for grommets that we'll use to attach them to suction cups (this stroke of genius came from dyed-in-the-wool idea gal Nicole). Tim and I haven't killed each other yet over the curtains but we have continued our pointless arguments over them and a few other oddities. I seem to have some terrible affliction in which I get completely irritated by his suggestions and then feel awful later when I've botched something up which would have been fine if I'd listened, e.g., I mismeasured a curtain so now we have to be a wee bit creative with how to hang it. Aside from the fact that arguing about something like curtains with your best friend sucks, I find it extremely frustrating that we are having such a hard time collaborating and working as a team. I *do* think that we've gotten better but that seems like a small consolation at the moment.

The crux of it is that we both want to be right, neither of us wants to make a mistake, we feel the stakes are high, and we want to be in control. Surely this shouldn't be so difficult to figure out. Har har. And yes, I know all the things that we're supposed to be concentrating on and I know what's most important, but while we ride out this tension together I think both of our hearts are feeling a little bruised.

Enough of all that...you can tell what's on my mind. The good news is that we've been cuddling up with the new cat in town at Nicole and Chris's: Marco, a sweetie pie from LA. We've been served amazing meals by our unendingly generous friends who have shown us how to do things like glass art (it's not fusing...it's something else where you get to play with torches and explosives) and sewing. We got to look at a full suit of armor every day for the last week. We got to see some sights inside and outside of the Twin Cities. We mailed 18 pounds of our stuff back to Catye's again and got rid of another huge box in the van. We laughed a whole lot in between bicker sessions. It's not all been tough. And now we're going out to a Vietnamese dinner!

A Day No Posts Would Be Posted

2008-06-09T12:17:00.006-04:00

So, our laptop started crashing in Neenah as we were heading out of town toward Minneapolis. Today, it has returned to us after traveling back through time to June 2nd. How great would System Restore be for humans? I could go back to yesterday morning and not say a bunch of stupid stuff to Stephanie that pretty much ruined our day. It would mean I would have to resew the hole I drilled through my sock on Monday when I was cutting down my clothes box, but that's a small price to pay to have some poorly chosen words stricken from the record.

This is the point where "I can't stand blogging" goes through my head because I don't really know what to post and what not to post. I guess I'll just be honest and say the last few days have been really hard on the both of us. We've been struggling with each other through nearly every decision and indecision: It ranges from how we should pack to how we should travel and what we'll do along the way to whether we should even be going at all. On our walk this morning, we admitted to each other that we're both anxious and afraid about a lot of aspects of this trip and it's coming out in the form of a power struggle over nearly everything.

This trip isn't a vacation. There isn't a set path, destination or timeframe and we really don't know what we're risking to be out here, much less what potential reward awaits us. Are we going to return with our nest egg scrambled asking "What was all that about?" Both of us have thought seriously of turning around and going "home" and both of us are wondering what the heck we'd be doing next if we did. Right now, it's hard to say what we're doing out here. We're poised to leave our last Midwest bastion of familiarity to head out into the great plains and we're arguing to the death about how many suction cups to use on the van's curtains while someone somewhere doesn't have enough to eat or a roof over her head. But we did get to see pictures of a 2000ft string cheese in Weyauwega, Wisconsin. It's surreal, confusing and frustrating at the same time.

What I do know is that we've experienced the most incredible generosity from many of our friends and people keep telling us that what we're doing is something they'd like to be doing also. So I guess we've decided to put our nest egg and sanity on the line, betting that there is something deep down in all of us that wants to have an adventure and be free. We're wagering that this feeling wouldn't exist unless we were designed for the pursuing of it and that following these instincts might be scary but somehow worthwhile. We'll see, huh?

a weekend of brothers

2008-06-08T23:00:00.000-04:00

It is a dark and stormy night tonight, the second in a row. We're now in Neenah, Wisconsin with my brother Carl, having said goodbye to Grafton and Steve (Tim's bro) earlier today. As we drove through some more odd Wisconsin towns on the way to see Carl today, a little warm spot for Wisconsin snuck in. Carl and I took a trip out to see Eric (our older brother) almost a decade ago when I first got my driver's license. Eric lived in Minneapolis at the time and I didn't want to drive on any freeways because I still had never driven on them and was scared about it. We took a state highway through Wisconsin as far as we could, and drove past lots of green pastures and old barns while blasting our teenage music.

Driving today to see Carl reminded me of how much I enjoyed that drive even during my years of mopey-teen-goth inability to appreciate the little things like sunny meadows. In one of the towns we drove through today, a group of about 10 people were marching down the street by themselves playing drums and bagpipes. In another, a group of people stood outside a scrappy bar, drinking beer just after noon on a Sunday and getting ready for some local band to come and play in the parking lot. Wisconsin seems to be full of weirdly interesting and generally nice people. The little towns don't feel like they're hanging on by their last nails like they do in Michigan. It's really a pleasure to see. Aside from the religiously freakish obsession with the Packers, Wisconsin ain't half bad.

Tomorrow we'll pull out of Wisconsin and if all goes well, we'll be in the Twin Cities in the afternoon. Both of our "little" brothers are leaving college and it's been great to spend a little time with them during such a tranisition oriented period in their lives. I've gotten to see Carl settling into a new routine post undergrad life. He's got an apartment with his good friend that they're keeping clean, is starting to enjoy his job, and is trying not to worry too much about anything else (which isn't too hard for him). I'm curious to see the next couple years unfold for him.

When we first pulled out of Chicago, I was a little worried that we were going to be spending the whole weekend with Steve and just this afternoon with Carl, but now that I've had a little reflecting time I'm glad that it worked out this way. Aside parkour played in a park in the dark, getting caught in thunderstorms, and seeing people that took themselves way too seriously at a Pirate Festival, the three of us spent most of the weekend in deep conversation about taking chances and getting second ones, spirituality, relationships, and change. I think this was the first time that Steve and I have really had a chance to talk like that with each other. Some of the defenses I had up I put aside, so I got to know this "new" brother much better. It was really a wonderful weekend and I'm so glad we had the time to spend there.

Thanks for hosting us, bros!

Field Museum of (un)Natural History

2008-06-07T14:05:00.007-04:00

Barely evading museum security, we had so much childish fun that we had to make a separate post of our findings. Mom Pierce - this is especially for you, Ms. Monkey.

Feeling so evolved and metropolitan in Chicago, we were surprised to find that we bore a striking resemblance to some of the exhibit animals.

Amidst the primates, Stephanie caught a glimpse of her arch nemesis...

Bittersweet Chicago

2008-06-07T13:51:00.007-04:00

For 2 nights we stayed at the Hyatt Regency in Chicago, close to the "Mag Mile," as all the maps now say. Magnificent is too long to spell and just so not hip. We were both really excited to live it up in a sleek and shiny city as our kickoff to a summer spent in a van and camping. The first day we left our hotel, we were headed toward the Shedd Aquarium and found ourselves moving further away from city streets and more toward the park and greenways. After about 20 minutes of wandering, we both noticed that instead of gawking at all the buildings and the bustling sidewalks like we were "supposed" to be doing in the big ol' city, we had sought out the calm, green areas as soon as possible. More realizations like this happened over the 2 days, and we left Chicago realizing that while we had previously both thought that living in a huge metropolitan city would be a great thing, that we're no longer those people. We reflected on how much we enjoyed Grand Rapids' midsized nature...and agreed that we could go back to GR if we didn't want to live elsewhere and feel great about that decision.

We're in a bit of a rush because we want to go to the Pirate Festival that's happening here in Grafton, Wisconsin, the small town that Tim's brother Stevie is living in with some buddies for the summer. We'll post some pics from Chicago that we hope you find amusing and will hopefully find some time for a bit more substance on sleepy Sunday. But if not -- that's the nature of the road. Mwahahaha!

Chicago or bust! (sort of)

2008-06-03T08:46:00.003-04:00

Yesterday we pulled out for Chicago - or so I thought! Tim surprised me by booking a night at the bed and breakfast we stayed in last year in Saugatuck when we got married. We stopped at the beach where we got married and did some reminiscing. It's been almost a year (June 30 it will be a year exactly) since we got married and the time has really zipped by. Starting out here for our trip really solidified in my mind that this trip is really about our lives and an amazing journey together, more so than just individual adventures.

As we were leaving the beach, we heard some crashing about in the brush. A minute later, a grizzled biker stepped out of the trees looking very puzzled. Turns out he was geocaching and couldn't find his cache. We started poking around helping him look while he explained the ins and outs to us. We found the cache hidden in a tree stump. It was full of useless baubles, but the thrill is more in the hunt than the catch, I suppose. We bid our goodbye to truckdrivers (his geocaching handle) and looked at each other gleefully: thanks to Nicole and Chris, we'll be able to do some treasure hunts soon also...as soon as we figure out how to work the GPS.

It really sunk into me as the day progressed that we were really gone, that this big adventure I've been dreaming about and planning for is really happening. It's a strange feeling of exhilaration, slight disbelief, and a little bit of anxiety. I know we're not really "cut loose" because our friends and family are amazing, but it still feels a bit that way.

This morning we're heading to Chicago for real...by way of Grand Rapids. We have to go back to the city because we both realized as we tried to get things out of the van that it's impossible. I can't even move the box of books we have. So we're going to try to go back to Catye's house where we're storing our stuff and sneak in without her noticing so we don't have the embarrassment of having to explain in person why we're there. The goal is to eliminate at least one of the huge white chair boxes that we're using as drawers. Neither of us is very excited to make this detour, but an hour and a half now will save us a lot of frustration later.

There's a lot of lessons in this, but Tim is waiting for me in the van so you'll have to come up with them on your own.

"Leavin', Leavin', Leavin' but I don't know where..."

2008-06-02T11:51:00.004-04:00

I guess the Josh Ritter quote says it best.

We're finally packed and loaded and ready to head out on the road. Yesterday was painful, as the previous post noted, and we reluctantly rose early this morning to have a last meal with Burt. It was a bittersweet goodbye, but we're excited to be venturing out (finally, finally, finally). Future posts will be from the road. (Tim)

I'm looking out the window at the van and it looks like it's riding low. Eek. The van is so full. I anticipate mailing some things back. (Stephanie)

too much stuff

2008-06-01T16:20:00.004-04:00

Packing wouldn't suck nearly as much if we didn't have stuff.

While the hobo-pie-makers and the futon have given us no problems, plenty of other stuff has. Tools, clothes, books, a laptop and a washer have been the biggest offenders. What emergency will we be unprepared for now that our tools are down to one box? I never thought I had many clothes until I tried to get them into one box. Is one box enough for a whole summer of books? How will I ever survive using Tim's laptop instead of my own, with all my widgets, iTunes for my pod and my bookmarks? And right now I'd rather wash my clothes in a creek rather than move this stupid washer.

All this is to say: I thought we had a minimalist life until we started packing to live in a minivan. I also never realized how much I really loved some of my stuff until I started packing it to be out of my reach for a long period of time. Count these off as trip realizations # 1 and 2.

Back to packing the stupid washer. We shove off tomorrow. I can't wait! Not only will our trip have begun, it means no more packing.

I Hate(d) Blogs

2008-05-27T10:28:00.004-04:00

A few years ago a couple of friends of mine who were making a radical, life-changing move to Denver announced to a carload of us that they were planning on journaling in a "blog" for their trip. When asked what I thought about blogs, like a good friend, I proffered the opinion that I didn't like blogs because they seems to be too often an exercise in self-centeredness (my actual poorly chosen words were "That's pretty arrogant, isn't it?"). In my mind, I couldn't fathom what type of people would really be interested in reading about my deepest thoughts. What wisdom could I possibly share? Even worse, I pictured myself sitting anxiously in front of my computer screen waiting to see if anyone commented on my posts. A blog seemed like a lot of effort and emotional risk with very little potential reward and I didn't really want any of that in my life at the time. I also figured if I wanted someone's input on my most intimate thoughts, I would get married.

So last Summer, I did. And through this amazing joining with Stephanie, I've come to learn that the part of me that wants to keep everything under wraps needs to loosen up some. It's not arrogant to share one's life with others. On the contrary, it's beautiful and I've found it absolutely necessary for my joy and survival.

Now I'm not entirely convinced that the blog, as a medium, is going to bring us all together tenderly holding our mice and singing kumbayah in the soft glow of our computer screens. But maybe it could provide a way for me to peel back one more layer of the stuff that makes me feel (or want to be) separated from everyone else.

That is certainly worth the effort.

Confession

2008-05-24T23:10:00.003-04:00

I'm going to make my paralyzing fear public in the hope that I will have less of it once I do.

Confession: I'm terrified of getting eaten by a grizzly bear when we're backpacking in Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks.

I've read a ton of bear preparedness stuff hoping that arming myself with knowledge would help. It hasn't. Especially when one of them said something like, "In the unlikely event that you are attacked defensively, lie on your stomach with your hands behind your neck and your legs spread so that you can't be flipped over. As hard as it might be, don't fight back. If, however, the bear starts to eat you, then the attack is no longer defensive and you should fight with all you've got."

I've also read up on the statistics of bear attacks and when they happen, and I realize that we have a much better chance getting creamed while driving than we ever do as noisy, responsible hikers.

And, I also know that if I absolutely am too uncomfortable to do a back-country hike in grizzly territory, we won't.

None of that really seems to help. I still think about it all the time and it's the number one concern on the trip. Things like hot showers and the price of gas are not really even glimmers in my mind, even though they seem to be everyone else's top concerns. It's the stupid bears.

I'll give this confession a day or two to work its magic, and then I'm sure I'll be cured...

Them's Sexy Legs

2008-05-21T22:31:00.012-04:00

The futon got outfitted last week with its leg risers. We gave it a trial run while staying in Detroit for a wedding and slept in the Best Western's parking lot. We slept like babies. Even though it's a sweet setup and the namesake for the blog, we really anticipate sleeping on it about a third of the time (when we set up at dark, when the weather is beyond crap, or other such situations). The rest of the time we plan on sleeping in our sweet new Big Agnes Copper Spur - our biggest luxury for the trip.