#2 redwoods

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

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...

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

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

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

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

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!

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

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.

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.