Gracefully Bound

Quick Update

2011-12-31T14:12:00.000-05:00

Well.... I have a lot to catch up on in my P A D files...
But I just realized I haven't written a THING the entire month of December... here's why:
Two retail jobs throughout winter holidays keeps a gal VERY busy.
The Davis' welcomed baby Kellan December 16.
My family spent the first Christmas in 3 years with all 5 of us in our childhood homeplace.
I finally met / spent quality time with my future brother-in-law.
My friends are amazing.
My family is hilarious.
My sleep schedule is lacking.

2011 - the good, the bad .... I thank you for the life lessons and bid you adieu with hopeful happy eyes on the future.

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

2011-11-30T21:57:00.000-05:00

"Words mean more at night, like a song. And did you ever notice, the way light means more than it did all day long?" Gregory Alan Isakov
I have my fingers crossed Virginia will soon chill off for the winter. Though I've been afforded many pleasant moments outside in the temperate fall weather we've been having, the wildness inside me longs for distinct seasons. The cold that turns a grassy mountain into a sparkling diamond wonderland. Excuses to bundle up with heart-felt hand-knit accessories. Burning chests and rosey cheeks, true appreciation for comfy warm shelter from a long winter's night.
And they are long. The fall I hiked I felt I was always fighting nights filled with longer hours. Last fall I ran into that a bit again as my job attempted to cram as many activities into a shortening day as students and staff traipsed through a chilling forest. But this fall, I get up before dawn, sometimes watch the sunrise over Mill Mountain, sometimes soak up afternoon sun, and generally see it set about the time I'd like to sink horizontally onto my bed. It isn't a challenge so much this year, with my more domestic lifestyle. I have a home with electricity, heat, flushing toilets - whole nine yards.
But tonight I walked these city streets and stumbled upon something. Christmas. (quick background) I LOVE Thanksgiving. It has always been a genuine time of fellowship, love, and gratitude in my family where many of us come together across the distance and have a great time. Christmas usually stresses me out. Crowds overwhelm me, hurried/ rude people annoy me, and many of the commercial capitalizing campaigns over the blending of religious and secular calendars just kinda.... weirds me out. So I often tend to get a little Scroogey around Christmas time.
Which makes tonight all the more remarkable.
On my walk tonight I accidentally stumbled onto the most magical street in Raleigh Court, the location of my old home. As I stood at one end of my block and looked towards the scene of over a year of my life, my heart stopped, treasured the scene in my heart, then joyfully relaxed. So many homes were highlighted with multi colored and white lights. Strands of them made archways from houses toward the street, forming a saber-like gauntlet of color, light, and hope.
Bundled in my trench coat, furry boots, hat and scarf I just stood there, basking in the beauty and smiling. On my way home I walked slowly under the arch of lights and sparkling ornaments, underneath a canopy of stars.
And out of all the feelings bouncing around in my heart and head what I mostly felt was - peace. This lovely calm appreciation for all that God is, and the world around me, human kind, community, and the reassurance in the sovereign story etched on our hearts and his plan for our lives.
Relationships come and go. Jobs come and go. Food is here and then gone. Health waxes and wanes. Money seems hard to come by. Life comes and goes. Hopes. Fears.
All met in Thee.
In all of the joy and adversity there is abounding opportunity to see that light in the darkness.
And how lovely it is on a chilly silent night.

Golden Birthday

2011-11-28T13:50:00.000-05:00

Once in your life, you turn x years on the x day of your birthday. This year I turned 27 on the 27, so in honor of a once in a lifetime event, I'd like to post 27 highlights / things I'm thankful for from my birthday =)
1. Waking up early enough to watch the sunrise from the comfort of my own bed, in a cozy home.
2. Starting the day slow and kickin it with Geronimo.
3. Wandering around a mostly empty store getting my Max-onista on.
4. Being at the dog park with two other weimaraners and a slew of other 4 legged friends.
5. Having a stranger boy intrigued by me.
7. Quad shot iced mocha.
8. Drinking it from my sweet free travel mug.
9. Eating sushi with Amanda.
10. Having sweet friends to share storytelling carpools with.
11. The Blue Ridge Vineyard and their annual Soup n Sip events.
12. How ridiculously temperate the weather has been (sometimes it annoys me it's not cold... but it sure was pleasant outside yesterday).
13. My folks steppin outside their comfort zone and trekking out to the vineyard.
14. Live Music.
15. All my friends and family I got to catch up with yesterday.
16. All my friends that came out to sip wine, soup, and snap photos yesterday.
17. The Harwell crew's cheese slaw.
18. A very long catch up session with Mr. Burns.
19. My childhood home.
20. Greenfield.
21. All the wonderful times in West Virginia at Thanksgiving.
22. Random Rancho dinners.
23. Time spent with a bearded Broughman.
24. All the beauty captured in the film "Tree of Life".
25. My tried and true CR-V.
26. Dairy Queen ice cream cake in my amazing bed.
27. A restful night's sleep.

And without further ado... a few images...

Vining Tract. So legit.

2011-11-20T21:23:00.005-05:00

exhale

2011-11-18T21:36:00.000-05:00

When the stars are twinkling
and the air is so crisp to highlight woodsmoke snaking through the valley
as well as my cheeks

This heart is set a flutter
by the beauty of these quiet moments.

In between illuminated spaces.
In between the men that don't fit in and the steady plodding ones.
In between the the thick hot nights and the nights filled with longer hours.

It is here this tired but strong dream smiles quiet relief to rest in a moment.

That seems more than enough... for now.

For a dreamer night's the only time of day.

Turning adversity into opportunity

2011-11-16T11:24:00.000-05:00

I really love storytelling.
That being said, I haven't quite known how to go about it lately. I find myself retreating to a more and more private place as my work, geographic location, and life goals take unexpected turns. Things felt a little more straight forward when I started this whole blog production : packing up my home, starting a 2,000 plus mile walk. I've told you how that went, I've told you about the ups and downs of cross country travel, time zone relocation, and eventually coming back to ground zero, where it all began.
I've enjoyed sharing all those stories with you.
My photography has been waning.
Somewhere shortly after returning to full time work after hiking the AT and traveling to Montana I took a serious turn away from intentional photography. I have quite a few images from all the years since my University of Montana graduation that could use some major editing and perhaps publication, but for the most part, the images which have been shot are quick snapshots of my life. Not terribly artistic or interesting. And I haven't been following through with them. I quickly document, and continue living.
Perhaps it could be argued artistically and internally I've needed this time. A quiet hibernation from seeing my world in shadows highlights and midtones; angles and depth of field. Maybe. But I miss it.
Much like grace and journeys of faith - how sometimes the most accessible easy answer is right before you if you only get over yourself and let it wash over you. But I haven't known how to return to the craft.
In the meantime life's been rolling along. I've moved multiple times. Worked multiple jobs. Made friends, kept friends, lost friends. Been haunted by ghosts of the past, elated over present loves and even new births (no no, not to ME, other people). And some weird stuff has happened to initiate a reevaluation with how public I want my life to be.
So the wrestling.
How to return to an art and craft that keeps my heart happy. How much of my inside process and outside surroundings to reveal to cyberspace.
And my current solution.... hey - it's a single step in the right direction.
I'm going to try to take / post at least a picture almost every day. No rigid guidelines (artists aren't into that ;) just a daily discipline to ease back in the storytelling pool.
Wish me luck! Check out the pics in the slideshow to the right.
And if you've noticed or are disappointed / curious as to more details of my life/ story, don''t hesitate to message me. Cyberstalking is a little too new school for me sometimes.

yeah october

2011-10-20T23:21:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago when I was playing hostel hostess in my spacious home I had 3 guests non so impressed with my energy conservation... "it's cold in here! if we wanted to camp we'd go to the woods!..." not saying... just saying... so I turned on my heat, for the first time. This October has been warmer than Virginia Octobers of my past, and aside from a few chilly days, tonight is still one of the first cold fall nights.
The leaves and light are so lovely. Every fall and spring as clouds and winds roll through a landscape I think my heart may burst from the lovliness of it all.
I haven't been writing or photographing much the past year ish. It's a quiet time for me. But on this cold windy fall night, after homemade quiche, wine, and girl time (heeeyyyy)I just want to pause for a moment and share the warmth and joy of this season.
It's weird having a season change while I don't live and work outside. I've had a few mini adventures, but could definitely go for a few day trip sometime soon. Lately I'm adventuring in the wild wonderful world of weddings and town meanderings. It's no Missoula... but mostly a nice change. I got just what I wanted with scaling back work hours in order to have a personal life, and I continue to be blessed by stumbling into new friendships and continuing those in place before this Roanoke return.
The light may not be so lovely for long, the friendly inspiration and warmth may or may not stick around as nights are filled with longer hours.
But for now... I'm basking in love and joy with every falling leaf and heartfelt giggle.
hope you are too.

ice capades

2011-09-14T21:51:00.000-04:00

Most of the time work is so busy there is little opportunity to get to know my co workers, though they seem kind and helpful. Sometimes we catch quick glimpses of who the other is outside of black polos and coffee cadences. Mary Beth is moving to Nashville, excited about the raised veggie garden out back of her house. Cat used to bike 14 miles to and from work in Louisville. Ashanti is hilarious. Tracey is a River kid. And more than I would've guessed have religious interests.
I'm not really sure what anyone thinks of me or how much they know. I love new scenes, so much opportunity. Yesterday while I was getting ice Nathan asked me what I want to be when I grew up.
THE question.
The one nearly everyone asks me in some form or another the past decade. It is a RARE day that goes by when no one brings up this quandary. My bank account hauntingly echoes this open ended query. And most people ask it with various subtext, but they all want to know. And in various questioners and various situations I have different responses. I should probably confess my responses are rarely welcoming to the question.
The thing is, I guess I don't really understand the people that ask it. We have to make some money to buy some stuff and exist. So that's why people work - and they enjoy having a purpose. But the amount of money and work people need to feel consequently successful or purposeful is very dynamic, perhaps as dynamic as any reasons any creature would have to self propel thousands of miles. And I can't really answer that question either.
I mean- I grew up having what I needed and some things I wanted. Then spent all of my adult life being creative about how to live frugally while keeping my core values alive and well. Money.... has not been a big part of things... or perhaps the lack of money has. Do I feel successful and purposeful? In a different sort of way, sure.
The way I look at it there are a few big life questions traditionalists would REALLY like us to answer, and yes, sometimes I wonder these myself.

Where will you live?
Who will you love?
What work will you do?

Depending on where you're at in your life you will read these musings differently. I've prayed over these questions more times than I can count in the past decade. And sometimes they keep me up at night.

Life has a lot of big questions though... and I imagine answering those leads to the next chapter of questions... maybe someday I'll know more about that.

But standing in the dish room in Danskos that I HATE and a polo shirt that cramps my style, needing to dump the ice back out front I didn't really think about all of this.

I didn't get defensive or panicked thinking about the thousands of dollars invested in my college education. Or the ratio of jobs I've had that I've loved vs hated. Or the prospect of more school. Or what has/ is driving those decisions.

Before I could think my tongue spit out

Happy.

And the rest of my mouth must've agreed from some place more wise than that part of myself that overanalyzes and processes EVERYTHING, because I was smiling.

My thoughts needed a second to catch up with my mouth, and still smiling I reconfirmed... "yeah. I just want to be happy"

"Looks like you're already there" he responded.

Happy Birthday Mo Man!

2011-08-29T23:01:00.002-04:00

August 29, 2004 Geronimo A. T. Casper was whelped to parents Brody J and Sadie Von Blue near Damascus Virginia.
That October he hid under a kitchen table in BoCo for a few days after coming to his new home, I sent him a stuffed squeeky hedgehog as his first toy.
That Novemeber we met for the first time over Thanksgiving, spent Christmas break together, and he flew to Montana in January.
We've been rambling together ever since. Here's to a great seven years G!
Love you mo every day!

Open the windows, the sun's subsiding

2011-08-26T21:36:00.000-04:00

Summer simmers down with cool night breezes and hurricane season bringing rain to the mountains. I'm in my new home in my old neighborhood. Excited about the new job, still snagging hours at my tried and true place of employment. Community is quiet, but steadfast - with the promise of crescendo.
I find myself with more time and space to breathe than I remembered possible. It's refreshing, and disorienting. Geronimo is transitioning well, but insatiably bored most of the time with no pup friends to pal around with. I'd be right in that boat with him if it weren't for the years of catch up I have in photo and music editing. Here's to digital media...
I haven't QUITE got inspired back to the running/ biking scene... but I feel it coming... in due time. The past few weeks have required a lot of city life tweaking, nesting, pacing, and processing. Slow and sure I'm learning to be all here.
Latest Triumphs :
My first Crock Pot prepared meal (chili, got multiple thumbs up from a few unbiased buds)
Re-introduction to grocery shopping
Tasting and Articulating Coffee nuances
Showing up to work early! score!
Multiple hostess opportunities for oasis needing friends
Getting my very tiny kayak back on the river, back in some LEGIT waves
Not driving for days in a row. Woot Woot self propelled travel!
Getting off the waiting list, into the college class I need
R O C K I N G out

I guess that's about it for now. Once I really get this photo editing under control perhaps I'll share a few images. Hope you are well and the change of seasons breathes refreshing inspiration into your life.

Float Like a Butterfly, Sting Like a Bee

2011-08-17T23:25:00.002-04:00

Roughly a week ago I found myself on a surprisingly therapeutic float down the Lower New River. Among the epic surf and other awesomeness of our guide, Mike, I learned this story:
In the 1960's a little known boxer named Cassius Clay won his first professional match against Tunny Huntsinger, one of the best boxers at the time. Clay, later taking on the name Muhammed Ali, went on to be one of THE most famed boxers of all time. Huntsinger took the blow as a retirement enticement and returned to his hometown of Fayetteville, West Virginia, soon after becoming police chief for many years.
I might be botching the details of the story a little but from what I remember Ali and Huntsinger remained good friends, Ali even showed up for his police retirement celebration when the two were old men. Somewhere around that time a reporter asked Ali what the toughest match of his life was. Ali thought for awhile, before saying.... a lot of different matches in my career were tough for different reasons.... it's hard to pick just one. But I can tell you this - no boxer hit me harder than Tunny Huntsinger.

I've been thinking about the story a lot this past week. I'm working through the second consecutive seasonal transition of BIG change. Not that THAT in itself is new to my life, but it has me thinking about all the transitions and chapters that seem to come so quick these past five years. Montana to Virginia. Botetourt to Roanoke. Roanoke to nomad. Nomadding myself to Montana. Montana to Luray to pinball to..... Roanoke.
Each challenging and beautifully complicated in their own right. But if I had to choose - I don't think any has dealt a harder blow than Mountain Campus.
It amazes me - the content of a year. The ups and downs, triumphs and tribulations, the life lessons.
My time in Luray leaves me overflowing with all of that. And those lessons - their poignancy and real-ness making them equally valuable and sad.
As I sit here in a borrowed home, on the threshold of my next chapter I do not intend to dwell on the past or the in between, nor gloss over whatever pain or hurt the recent past has brought.
My hopeful prayer is to look the wound straight on-clean it and bandage it appropriately, change the dressings when needed, and someday - after it heals, be grateful for the scar stories it holds.
Those hard blows sting. I might spend a little time down for the count.... and those truths cycle through me.
perceiving then that they might take him by force he withdrew to the mountain, alone.
I will not abandon you nor leave you as orphans, I will come for you.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
These three remain - faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is Love.

And as far as the particulars of Mountain Campus boxing matches... I'm comforted knowing I left every ounce of energy I had on the court.

Here's to fall. Ready or not.

Summer Solstice

2011-06-21T23:21:00.000-04:00

The longest day of the year ended in the most appropriate way. With lightening darting across the mountains, making spiderwebs through stormy skies covering the Roanoke Valley. I drive too fast through sheets of rain with the radio too loud, wind tumbling in my windows.
Breathe, grin, release.

6.19. first night

2011-06-19T22:06:00.000-04:00

The way these lightening bugs sparkle
has me wondering if the stars came down to earth
as clouds move through my fingers
and rain exhales into my chest.

Sabbath

2011-05-22T21:32:00.002-04:00

One of my recent fascinations with a landscape is the color pallete it uses. Here in a saturated Shenandoah spring the world is blue. Blue mountains with a lush green foreground, the sky a hazy light blue.
As sun sets these mountains ripple into a blue sea, wave upon ridge. It's thick this evening. Still not hot enough to be oppressive, but moisture so visible you could part the air like curtains. And I've come to Hawksbill Creek.
Fathers walk with shoulder riding daughters, middle aged couples power walk beside one another - with ear buds in. Little town - it's a quiet village.
Sitting in the concrete pour spout just above the creek I can see a bird the size of my fist splashing about. I wish I could identify more eastern wildlife. A few key things I know - mountain laurel are radiant right now, honey suckle are scenting the hillsides, and Maddie says the size of blackberry flowers are promising for fruit in a few months.
There are so few moments in my life in Luray to sit back and absorb. Ours is a busy life of 1.5 activities, new students, shifting school groups, and enough sleep as we can muster. That part I am not sad to leave.
But turning new life chapters frequently presents itself with hopes and fears, and lately I have many fixated thoughts on - "what next?". As if we ever really know.
I've been thinking a lot about passion and joy. How my frequency and capacity for it has shifted so much the past 10 years And how lately, in what feels like the brink of walking deeper into bright happy places the dark stormy sides of me tug to not cross that threshold.
I guess we're currently in the middle of a month of hard work and busy weekends. Between that, a looming new chapter, and all the unanswered questions I suppose I've worked myself into a place with the Mean Reds.
I suppose this dusky creek is my Tiffany's. The only thing to calm me down. The quiet proud look of it- nothing bad could happen here. But then again, I guess Audrey's feelings about a jewelry store don't exactly relate to Bek and a creek. Last week this creek was flooded - something bad DEFINITELY could've happened here, but maybe for me it's more important to be in a place with the capacity for great calm or great turbulence and feel fluid with it.
Mint, chamomile and freshwater funk mix with a distant cigarette and my subdued lime-coconut lotion.
Steve asked me this week why I love to be outside. Without much thought I told him I love the wildness and freedom I have there. It's been strange to me in this Luray job how infrequently I feel wild or free. I hope the youngins I work with feel that.
My prayer is that whatever comes after June there will be laughter, reflection, business, quiet times, and that love which is present will overcome fear and hurt from the past.

And that a river runs through it.

Twitterpated

2011-05-07T15:55:00.000-04:00

So, it's been awhile.
Sorry.
Life's been throwing me a lot of surprises - the type that feel better living through than writing about.
The quick version is I moved stayed at Camp Bethel for a month with Seyra before moving back to Luray mid March. Through that move a lot of torn feelings surfaced about wanting to continue the life I had lived in the winter - plugged into church community, Outdoor Trails friends, and other Roanoke area buds - in a place where I know folks and can help them by staying in that community. Through City Light Groups my continued prayer request was - not my will but your's be done Lord, and I dragged my feet pouting north to Luray.
But Spring is no time to pout. And after a few busy weeks life turned down a few interesting side trails. I have realized Sheridan is a remarkable company to work for and feel very blessed to be employed by a progressive approachable employer and bosses. Our schedule is crazy sometimes, the kids are too talkative sometimes, but overall I finally know all my ropes set up knots (though I'm still a little shakey on the muenter mule) and feel solid about my role as an Outdoor Educator. The nights are still chilly, breeze is fresh, and the canopy has been renewed. It rains- a lot - and I can feel myself refreshed, growing.
I miss my girlfriends this season. My good bud from summer/ fall has moved on to Arizona. And my other gal pal has been working on personal stuff, so there is a bittersweet longing to make more quality girl time happen in "off" time. I might have a shopping date with Morgan tomorrow morning- ohhhh yeah. =)
I've been getting back south to B'tot A LOT on my many weekends off. It's blissful. Though I find myself needing a few weekends here and there to detox and totally recoup around Shenandoah -no major travel or plans, just rest.
Regarding Matters of the Heart - for the first time in a long time, I am decidedly with someone who is holistically wonderful to be with. Who he is, who we are together, and who I am with and apart from him leaves me joyful.
It's a good season.
In a short month and a half life will turn over again as my year contract in Luray comes to a close. It will be a time for big decisions and new chapters. Please pray that God illuminates the path ahead as much as needed and that in each surprise I will see blessing and joy - rain or shine.
I'll try to keep you posted =)

February

2011-02-25T15:56:00.002-05:00

I just found two lone bags of "Montana Gold" tea amongst herbal cold care nastiness. Jackpot.
The first time I had Roobioos (African red bush tea) I was in a hospitable stranger's home in Manchester Center, Vermont - warm, dry, clean, and recharging - what a simple blessing for a weary foot traveler.
Today is another weary, rainy, sublimely calm day. My only tasks until 5:30 are -keep the fire going in the wood stove, coax Geronimo to go out in the rain, feast with Sarah and pop enough mucus expectorant and pain pills to be able today to photograph a 3 month old this weekend.
My new home is in a wooded park-like glen where spring-fed streams and ponds flow and trout spawn. I have lived here a week - and despite the business in the rest of my life I still manage quiet walks through fields of mountain valleys, and explorative jaunts upstream on Wilson Creek.
I hope to take it up to the ridge soon and find the AT shelter where I spent the first of many nights on my 2008-2009 journey.
My new housemate is beautiful. We begin our days with laughter, take to the world outside our doors with gusto and commitment, and wind down with counseling and wonder.
My new church is the closest thing to living "christ" community I've experienced in 5 years (save my brief time at Missoula's Lions Den). And although face-to-face time promises to be short lived with my March 26th return to Luray - each moment with them is radiant and heart-felt.
I am in my second week of physical therapy. I pout more than I should about 3ish hours of stretches and strengthening exercises every day, but I am excited about the idea of relieving tension, realigning, and feeling strong.... eventually.
Geronimo can't the squirrels out our window from his bed. But he knows the peace this chilly, grey, wet day brings. And even he is beginning to enjoy our little cabin.
Each drink of south african inspired Montana goodness brings soothing to my sore throat, and all I can think is - thank you God, for this simple happy season.

Amen.

2011-01-04T23:59:00.002-05:00

Gotta Get Home This Year

2011-01-01T18:14:00.000-05:00

I was trying to remember how I've rung in the last decade of New Years. MOST years have been pretty straight forward since joining the Outdoor Trails family; meet up with Scott and camp out in Arcadia with the Odyssey Adventure Racing / OT crew, but there have been a few exceptions. The year Cindy and I danced around while Stewart was at work, the year I spent my first night in Allendale, the year I brought a brief beau to North Creek, the year I depressingly just went to bed around 9pm, and one of my favorites; cross country skiing in Glacier National Park.
After some mental sifting I realized none of those New Years Eve activities necessarily dictated what the rest of that year would bring. Which helped me overcome the disappointment of a canceled New England adventure, and the search for *the epic awesome* experience that would perfectly culminate 2010 and ring in 2011.
Holidays.
Not to be a grinch - I mean, I've been having a wonderful Christmas - New Years week. But isn't it funny? the emphasis and stress we put on having perfect holiDAYs? Isn't any day just as likely to be epic and amazing as the rest? And isn't it most likely that the memories we'll cherish most are moments of surprise? Honestly most planning just stresses me out and predisposes me to have expectations. What a slippery slope - expectations.
So I relaxed, threw on a black dress, cowboy boots and some mascara and spent the evening with laid back buddies at an over crowded bar downtown enjoying live music. This morning I spent hours cultivating creative endeavors and found myself wandering the streets of Fincastle on a rainy afternoon with Carrie.
After days of shifting plans and surprises our conversation revealed all the beauty of letting go, living from faith, joy in surprises, and the timelessness of friendship.
On my chilly rainy drive to meet Carrie, Virginia Coalition's "Gotta Get Home This Year" pumped from my stereo speakers. A song I became smitten with about this time last year.
"Something I can't live without. Something like a perfect destination. If I get there, I swear I'm never leaving. Oh it's there I know I can believe it. Gotta get home this year...."
And that elusive lesson which so frequently slips out of my wisdom resurfaced. That home is fluid. And life is more about where you're at internally than externally.
So I suppose if I were to have a new years resolution it would be about that. To live from an internal place of "home". And to balance my life in a way which encourages me to do this.
What are the hopes and fears of your year?

Silent Nights

2010-12-22T21:09:00.000-05:00

We used to put these amazing lights on my family christmas tree. They were multi colored, the small bulbs, and had about 7 different settings. We needed two strands to surround the whole tree. We put our tree in this fancy room that I can never remember what to call it; family room? living room? After 20 years in that house I still refer to either as "tv room" or "piano room". Anyway - we put our tree in the piano room, with wooden floors, dark green walls, and fancy paint / plaster designs on the white ceiling.
My family of five plus an entourage of pets has always been busy. Baking, shopping, jobs, school, everyone would whirl around; in and out of the house, around the house. It was never too hard to slip away from all of it unnoticed.
I like to slip away.
All the years we used those lights my favorite part of Christmas was the way they reflected on the ceiling. With life swirling around me, the cold settled into the hills and valleys of Botetourt County, I would tweak those lights to my liking and settle into the best spot in the house. Quiet and still on the rug I would lie on my back watching rhythms and colors flash around shadowed fir, pine or spruce.
My own version of a Virginia Aurora Borealis.

Last Christmas was my first Christmas away from Botetourt. Geronimo and I bought a wreath of western pine and red cedar and snuggled up quietly in Missoula, Montana. Sad as it was to not be amongst family - there was a special magic to the eve and day, a quiet slipped away feeling.

This year is my sister's first Christmas away from Botetourt. She has no snow, no hurried holiday shopping - just young Tanzanian orphans celebrating the coming of summer and reciting bible verses of the Christmas story. She skypes us a lot.

We have a really lovely douglas fir in the piano room right now. While our parents were at work my brother and I strung some lights in the boughs. We had bags to choose from - blue icicle, huge colorful bulbs similar to downtown Fincastle, a white light coil, and singing bells. Deciding to keep things in the white light category we opted for the coil and bells. You have to press Santa's eyebrows a few times on that bell controller to stop those things from singing - they're so obnoxious when they sing. So there's this filtered glow, and a bit of blinking from the bells. Mom put all the ornaments on herself after work yesterday.

Years of rug laying and light watching pulled me to the room after everyone else was in bed. I stood at the doorway and took in the scene. But it wasn't there. That hushed mystic escape. The tranquil meditation of a girl lost in dim light, rhythm, and the smell of pine.

And the funny thing about magic- you can't really get IT back. It just sort of - is. And I wonder what's changed so much in my life. If I'm capable of that wonder and quietness again.

Maybe I drink too much coffee for that stillness.

Maybe I don't breathe deep enough.

But sometime this winter, I hope I will, and whatever form that mystic escape takes, I hope the magic finds me again.

With the days living faster now We cast our make pretends Extra heat demands A rising constant power Darkness taking days...

2010-11-30T16:00:00.000-05:00

Cold November rain veils pine boughs and boney decidious limbs. The white of low clouds brings soft filtered light, steady drizzle sparkles the foreground.
Life is a balance of holding on and letting go.
Those who want to keep their life will surely lose it, and those willing to give it up will find life to the fullest.
Haunting.
Things we know and may not recognize as the hypothetical having become real - personal.
Are these morals actually something we WILL live by?
I curl up on my Grandmother's couch. Forever a rebel rouser - I let Geronimo join me; because it's my couch now- covered in my comforter AND with cold feet buried under his warm fur I'm quite cozy.
Life.
This year I spent the second Thanksgiving that I can remember at my parents house instead of with our extended family in Keyser, WV. My grandmothers are gone, the older cousins balance holidays between our family and their spouse's family - and so another generation begins their own traditions.
No one talks about that part much. But I notice it. Montana snuck into my traditions and I find myself missing Dacia and the other Native Americans who welcomed me into their home and family during so many holidays. And the quietness. I miss the quiet space of Montana.
But I try to season the egg noodles and be supportive about pie from a box. You got what you got after all.
The first second cousin on my mothers side was born, on my birthday. And my mother left this note "Happy Birthday to YOU!! 26 years ago today you can rushing in to our lives 3 weeks early and haven't slowed down yet. You took a peek at the world with your big brown eyes and were ready to spread your love and joy!!"
Sounds like Seth Grayson may be a handful if birthdays and stars have anything to do with who a person becomes.
I will be a bridesmaid for the first time next fall. I get to put my two cents on wedding photographers and eagerly volunteered to help taste cakes. So the running buddies grow up.
In a few days I'll wake up in another running buddies home. I hope the first thing I see is her two year son grinning in my face. We're going to craft Christmas cards.
I have really amazing friends - for which I'm speachlessly thankful.
After three shots of espresso and hours of photo editing one sat in front of me, divulging the details of a recent break up. As we parted the only hope I could give is that - I understand - because romance frustrates me too- but our friends - how blessed we are for that love.
Before sleep that night Low tells me, "All this motion you know? The pushing and prying forward?
It's all just a life-long walk to the exact same spot."

He's one of the best food for thought chefs I know.
So it all marinates.

Journey. Destination. Somethings Old. Somethings New. Many things borrowed. Too much hope and motion to be blue.

Nights Filled With Longer Hours

2010-11-29T11:25:00.002-05:00

Ode to 11

2010-11-05T17:52:00.000-04:00

I don't get out much. Which is ironic I suppose.... considering I live "out" of what most folks consider mainstream. But here I sit in my "town" clothes listening to jazz and buzzing off espresso as people flit in and out of these doors like the syncopated trumpeted backdrop.
My 40 minute drive through Shenandoah Valley farmland, the Shenandoah River jumbled into the town of Front Royal. Which is really a story in and of itself - I have never understood this town.
Driving out of the woods, watching territory move outside my windows has me thinking about November. Beautiful November. With it's deep angled sunlight. White puffy clouds are shadowed in deep blue/ grey/ purple undertones. Few golden leaves quake in a chilly breeze. Mountain ridges and hollers are showcased one last time before Appalachia relaxes to boney silhouettes.
Silos and rippling rivers reflect golden glares from this vibrant scene.
Stakes are higher as ripe fruits are harvested, wood is chopped and we begin to hunker down for holidays, friends, family and the simple pleasures of cleansing cold.... creeping closer... with every sunset.
Chilly shivers warmed with golden filters of all that was, is, and is bound to come.

Show Me

2010-10-08T20:29:00.000-04:00

It has come to my recent attention that I use the words beautiful and brilliant a lot.
This, along with my recent considerations of the prevalence of "love" in my dialect leads me to a personal challenge... omitting them.
The theory of love languages proposes multiple ways of communicating affection ; quality time, service, verbal, physical and gifts.
In short - if love is an emotion - how is it expressed?How much there must be beyond three spoken words.
So it is my current challenge to use other languages to express emotions. Beauty, brilliance, and love.
Perhaps I could tell you about golden sunlight, wind whipping 4th graders' hair and journal papers, warm stoney cliffs with rippling rain water pools. Perhaps I could tell you of cruising across crisp leaves peppering the Appalachian Trail, the turbulence of waves across a man-made lake as 10 year olds in blaze orange PFDs soaked in this ever present autumn light canoe through what could be the next cover of LLBean's fall catalog.
After spaghetti and garlic bread Sophia and I giggled until we cried over birthday cake and nothing at all.
Two years ago I was on top of Springer Mountain in Georgia October 7. Today is a good day for mountain tops.
It dawned on me today this life at Mountain Campus, through full of unique challenges is the most personally serene fall I've had in years. No homeless sleeping in cars or finding mattresses in alleys, no rainy north Georgia days to walk through giardia, no commutes after choffee dates and before scrounging for dinner.
Nope. Things are pretty simple around here. Wake up, eat, keep to the day's schedule while serving / protecting/ teaching students and other instructors, sleep, repeat.
At morning meeting today Izzie gave her class a quote "Life is a grand adventure, or not at all". Students interpreted this as unless you're on a grand adventure you're not really living.
But I've been wondering.... whether it feels like it or not.... we're always living. So maybe the true point is to LIVE a grand adventure; in southern terminuses, homelessness, unemployment, homecomings, restlessness, quiet breathing, pumpkin parties and pumpkin ales. All of it jumbled into the epic pages of simply complex adventures.
Maybe the "not at all" part isn't possible.
Yeah. I'm calling that bluff.
How could life not be a grand adventure?

A time for every purpose under heaven...

2010-10-05T19:15:00.000-04:00

I am currently wearing an over the ears tassel hat, silk tank, long-sleeve shirt, sweater, synthetic puffy jacket, leggings, dance pants, a skirt, and socks. I kicked off the insulated furry boots to curl up on the staff house couch.
What a long day. What a full few days. Driving, scenery changes, loved ones, meaningful conversations, stressful work situations, more driving.
3 gents I love are safely home from a Mexico - Canada walk. It's so crazy how different and similar their worlds have been and are now. What they've each returned to, and how they're deciding which direction to progress in. It reminds me a lot of fall 2008 as I struggled through the southern section of the Appalachian Trail and fall 2009 as I struggled through finding a home and setting up my Montana life.
This weekend's theme has been life; what it gives us and how we feel about it. And a handful of people I love have weighed in on the matter.
Such brilliance and desperation, such blessing and restlessness. All rolled up into a breathing beating passage of time.
Two friends are reading Ecclesiastes with me as we try to find time in a 90+ hour work week to talk about what these words mean. There is a time for everything. There is much chasing after the wind and vanity in the world around us.
Yet diamonds sparkle in the rough, simple carbon having gone through enough heat and pressure to catch light, reflecting to the world around them.
How beautiful love is in times like these. How beautiful life can be with love.
As autumn light deepens colors and vibrance around me, these mountains drive me to rag tag outfits of layer after layer, I try to focus on each moment. The light, love, blessing and grace they bring.
And warmth.
What a perfect season.

Chilly Nights

2010-09-14T20:47:00.000-04:00

September 13.
Night is so quiet here with empty tents.
Crickets chirp in a reserved sort of way, my ceiling fan hums.
A familiar almost comforting chill hits my skin on a long walk to the flush toilet.
Days are shortening exponentially, harkening back to a time not so long ago when every hour of daylight was a hope of warmth and radiance, pulsing through miles before the dark cold sparkle of night set in.
You're pushing through that now and I think about you all the more.
Le ciel est a tout le monde.
And lately I think about different places. That they grow us, but into a surprising acceptance that nothing happens there that doesn't happen here.
Sarah once told me life in France is still just life... only French.
How brilliant.
Montana. France. Washington. the Virginias.
Just life. Happening.

The only views from this cabin are the windowed doors and a skylight. I crawled onto my roof today, detailed my portal a la ciel.
I lay here now wondering these things, feeling alone, missing your strength.
What clarity comes from pondering the heavens?
I might build a ladder to attach to the cabin, or ghetto rig the sky light to open all the way; like a portal back to fairy tale land.
How odd to find myself needing you to root me.
Not knowing where or how to proceed from here I put my grumbling belly to bed.
Tomorrow is another opportunity, in the midst of shortening light, always under the same sky.

September 14.
Dusk.
How I love thee.
The way a day sinks into rest; as if my anxious ways could set over a horizon. As if the vibrance left of the days' color IS the light into my tunnel.
Insignificance and purpose all reflecting in a night sky.
Light. Color. And the appreciation for all of it when there is little around me. How brilliant each trace is.
This Earth around me breathes an excited content to nestle it's creatures in dirt and gentle breeze.

September

2010-09-05T16:25:00.000-04:00

Harvest Moon Pumpkin Ale stared back at me from the grocery store cooler tonight. I thumbed through yellow and red sunflowers, then settled into Etzler with a plate full of Indian feast.
I retreat to this room - glowing with warm wood, crimson curried colors: nature and art.
With a fan on, "Be Thankful" candle lit, and window half down I collapse into night.
After a blowing quick rain storm the driveway glistens wet. Crickets and a few lingering ciacadas sing the starlit tune.
Peace. Joy.
I smile - realizing - finally. I am here. now.
With deep breaths of relief my eyes fade shut.
No music. No phone.
Nothing.
Everything.
here. for the harvest.

2010-08-22T16:50:00.000-04:00

"I walked past Allendale and all the lights were off" my new text said last night. Allendale, the scene for the brilliant life chapter between college and thru hiking. Kind of sad, kind of fitting.
I've spent the past week resting, recooping, and recharging from months of motion. I've spent it in the familiar stomping grounds of Roanoke / Botetourt. Life is so brilliant here; despite my transient existence where the only seeming constant is change. Coming here I seamlessly pick up the longest dearest friendships of my life with drinks, meals, walks, talks, adventure. We make quality time together a priority and nourish one another holistically.
I do miss this place while I'm gone. Still - not enough to reside here indefinately.
This week I have bounced between a fullness nearing elation and a fullness of desire deep enough to ache restless in wee small hours under a waxing moon. All within the quiet contentment trademark of my current life chapter.
Small realizations this week: my brother is an amazing person, my friends are loving hilarious and so giving, The New River is my favorite in Virginia, I adore a spacious comfy bed, and I still need to "pick a duck and shoot".
Fall season starts tommorrow while butterflies gather licking salty ground in these late summer days. Last fall homeless nights were spent in stress. Two falls ago there was summit, giardia and retreat. There is never an expectation of perfection - only a quest to live the fullest joyful life possible. Perhaps I'm fine tuning things.
Regardless, the nights are cooling, days shortening, and I intend to breathe deeper.
A quiet calling to prayer and letting guards down lures me into this new season.
Besides, the lights are off and I no longer hold keys to the past. So I look to the present and future with hope and grounded roots.

Marco...

2010-07-28T21:18:00.000-04:00

There are many silences in my life which settle me into this rolling landscape. The warrior you once comforted seems to lie dormant amidst urban youth discovering the natural world. There is caving, canoeing, road tripping, rafting, backpacking, hang gliding. There are loud songs and silly sayings. Exploration and mild adventure.
New chapters.
You must understand by now that this tale each of our lives develops has chapters, each distinct from those before and after the one we are living now.
I thought last winter was quiet. But there was a restless quest inside me turning in turmoil for spring to shake out. Spring has passed. The quietness inside me these days is different.
I miss Alta Mons. Sometimes when that landscape crosses my mind I feel as though I've been exiled from my home.
I miss my friends. How odd to be geographically close to so many loved ones and logistically hindered from spending time with them.
I miss Montana. The snowmelt water. The mega wild pulsing just outside myself.

Geronimo is perhaps the happiest he's ever been. He has developed a "Tramp" like existence spending all day everyday by my side or doing whatever he wants. He knows what to time to show up at the kitchen back door for snacks from the cook, where to go for movie and popcorn time and when staff take evening runs he can dog around with Bizzy, a frisbee catching border collie. So far that is the best part of my life here.

Between that, time with Ben, learning to hang glide and coveted time in WV's New River Gorge I am thankful for this time in the Appalachians. But looking forward to four months off this winter.

I suppose this is my first chapter which began with a measure of distance from my past thru hiking life. And somewhere between age and seasons that feels very noticable. I worked and lived here for weeks before those beside me knew my past -Glacier, the AT, Outdoor Trails. Experiences so dear to me, yet my former desire to broadcast them has subsided. It is enough for me. Enough to treasure them in my heart rather than showcase that past.

Sometimes I think I am lonely here. That I need another to be part of this, to understand it and me, to share myself with. Sometimes I wonder if God's put me here to work through our issues. God and me that is. It's been too long since I traversed forests and creek beds in conversation with the divine.

So this silence hovers like fog, whether it's of dusk or dawn is unknown to me. But it seems as if a peace and fulfillment is so near I could reach out and grab it.

You and I used to speak of feeling alive through pain and struggle. Euphoric from primal joy and suffering. Being thankful. Between geographic and logistical distance most talk of such principles lies dormant; resonating in the heart and soul of memories rather than in my ears.

But I am beginning to live here. In quiet evenings with my saxophone on the back porch. In the way these branches quake before a storm. In the sunset soaked clouds that peek above this pine surrounded field.

There is heat, sweat, and hard work - slowly I feel my legs strengthening and spirit stirring. In a sleepy sort of way.

I wonder what these children take with them after leaving this place. I wonder if they feel magic here like I do in places I have lived, loved, and come to understand.

I wonder what shooting stars will collide with my path and when.

Know that I think of you, and hope.

That your dreams stay big, your worries stay small, you never need to carry more than you can hold.

nesting

2010-07-26T21:59:00.000-04:00

After weeks of spring students, medical training, and a major push with 14 days of leading 9th graders through caves, ropes courses, rivers, National Park land, multiple states, and hang gliding I finally have some down time working around camp as support.
It is a welcome lull in summer season.
Today was perhaps the first pleasant day of summer -temperature in the 80s, light breeze cooler in the morning and now at night. Summer should never be over 90 degrees - thank you.
After helping with breakfast and lunch and cleaning/ restashing equipment I had a few sweet hours to myself before dinner. Retreating to my cabin I continued unpacking and "nesting" a process that has taken many small sessions since moving here June 1st. I'm getting close to settled. Before I know it nows will be falling and my tiny cabin will be vacant for four months.
But for now - it' becoming quite cozy.
After serving and cleaning up dinner I retreated again to my humble abode, deeming it just as good a time as any to pick up my saxophone (which I haven't played much since 1998). So I sat on my porch in the woods playing sax while Geronimo frolicked about with his football. By lunch tomorrow all our campers will be out of base camp on trips. I love quiet solitude time =)
There are a handful of important things I've been searching for lately - all the more incentive to unpack / clean. Since leaving Montana I've misplaced an important watch, a drivers license, and countless other items. I've found a favorite Damien Rice CD, a key to my parents' place and more paperwork than I should've moved across the country.
It gets me to thinking about life: loss, gain, and status quo.
I've lost and gained much since leaving my beautiful 1920s apartment in Raleigh Court pre AT hike. Perhaps it balances out. Perhaps I've gained more than lost.
Depends on which day you ask me.
I was once told life is a balance of holding on and letting go.
So it is.
When the full moon rises over the woods on this Shenandoah Valley I think here. for now. is fine enough. I know not what comes in months or a year from now.
Such is life.

Forming, Norming, Storming, Performing

2010-06-17T13:05:00.000-04:00

In any team building facilitators course you learn this is the process group adjustment. I think of this often as I join new groups and immerse myself in life's newest chapter. I guess it's comparable to understanding the process of grief; the expectation of certain feelings seems to help life feel natural and content. Here at Mountain Campus, after three weeks of work I'm probably still in the first stage.
It took a week to get a vague understanding of my co workers and job expectations. At least two to get Geronimo acclimated to everything (he's working hard too entertaining kids and digging holes to plant trees in). And now in our third week we are wrapping up Spring season with our last school group before two weeks of training usher in summer camp, which will bring a nearly all new staff. Starting early has afforded me the opportunity to shadow co workers in real life situation, but I'm excited to officially go through training and have a more through picture to life and work around here.
Shenandoah in one word? exhausting.
I think a lot about other loves. And by that I mean geographic ;) Glacier, Camp Alta Mons, lands I feel so connected to it's hard not to reminisce and long for those familiar lands which sparkle with fond memory. This week however Shenandoah is starting to seep into more recent memory. My first SSMC hike into Shenandoah National Park to a cool swimming hole filled with tadpoles. My first canoe trip down the Shenandoah River peppered with shoving canoes off rocks, sweeping 13 boats of fourth graders down stream, my brilliant students spotting bald eagles and herons, all complete with the fierce typical afternoon thunder storm, topped off with gorgeous evening light. These wonderful children will be on their way back to Washington DC before I know it and the next two weeks I'll trade my teaching ways in for student notes in wilderness first aid and procedures around campus.
I am seeing a lot of my family, which is nice as my older sister will soon be leaving for a year in Tanzania Africa.
I miss my friends out west terribly. And in the east for that matter as my rigorous schedule offers little personal time.
The days get longer. Summer sneeks around a river bend.
such is life.
Geronimo and I - we are here. We are open and leaning.

Shenandoah

2010-06-06T19:15:00.000-04:00

When these southern Appalachians cool off in the aftermath of a fierce summer storm they are nothing short of intoxicating. Evening light floods the valley to the east of the ridge that Shenandoah National Park encompasses. Leaves whisper in the post rain breeze. Memories rush into corners of my mind and heart, flooding out the cobwebs of my eastern life, put there by many months in the Rocky Mountains. Last night I watched lightening bugs sparkle a Christmas in June show in the treeline past my cousin's backyard with Steve, Lora, Thunder and Day Tripper.
Work is overwhelming.
I'm still getting used to these surroundings and the operating procedures around Mountain Campus. Every day gets a little more comfortable, and the staff is welcoming, professional, passionate about outdoor education, and kind.
Stay tuned... more to come soon!

Honeysuckle

2010-05-24T22:35:00.000-04:00

The further I ventured into Tennessee the more a southern mountain land I love came alive.
Air strong and thick with honeysuckle.
Cool night breeze.
Ligtening bugs flickered my beacon east, east to the Blue Ridge
Another night of car sleeping, and one final day of crazy driving cruised me into Virginia.... hey momma rock me....
I had nearly crossed the New River when.... little CR-V stopped.... on the interstate... 50 miles from my parents house.
Long story short - I got towed into Roanoke, first face I saw was my FAVORITE mechanic =) as I hopped out of the tow truck, threw my arms in the air and said "CHARLIE! I'm back from Montana!!! and my car won't work". Timing belt - gone, but the valves don't appear to be bent, and I have a niiiiiice buffer of time before I need to be cruising again to Ohio and then Luray.
It even happened early enough to still attend my little brother's 21 birthday dinner with the rest of my family.
Point is - I'm in Virginia. Tired but safe.
Goodnight song of the south

My first love was a castle in the sky...

2010-05-23T01:34:00.000-04:00

After a week of life in the southwest I am officially eastern bound.
Most of my day was spent driving across Arizona and New Mexico; hot sun, intense wind, and many many miles. By the time I crossed the Texas state line a landscape of sand and shrub shifted into sparse green grass, and as I rolled my windows down in Oklahoma there I was - the thick humid southern air poured in around me and mo.
The thoughts and feelings I've had during this move are constantly surprising me. I'm grieving the separation from Montana; long summer twilights, the crispiness of rock and snow paired with lush fields and rivers. I have reconnected with community gone from my side for far too long.... and today as I crossed the imaginary boundaries out of the west, and a found myself a few miles closer to the green, swaying, Appalachians I felt better about what I was traveling towards...
A few more miles remain...
As this buffer dwindles and I near the other side of the country, the eastern side, I am so full.
Geography, journey, love, fellowship
always scheming always dreaming
very thankful for a little more buffer to work though these matters of the heart

Sandy Eggo

2010-05-19T14:40:00.000-04:00

Guitars pulse this heart, blood of fellowship and music flow freely in this beautiful San Diego sunshine.
I hiked two miles on the Pacific Crest Trail before holing up in the shade of a juniper yesterday and waiting for Bones and Low. After repacking the CR-V twice and strapping various things to the roof the four of us (including Geronimo) decided the most cost efficient way to spend a few days together was at Bones' place. And here we are.
The home is cozy soft, clean and crisp, and so comfortable even this Appalachian/ Rocky Mountain girl finds herself at ease in a California life.
Packing up ice axes and other PCT snow gear, eating fresh strawberries, and checking out Jan's herb garden are intermittent commercial breaks to the strumming song radiating from this visit.
Thank God for Bones and Low.

Cruisin

2010-05-17T13:34:00.000-04:00

My final days in Montana were scattered with packing, moving, making memories to last until the next Montana visit, as well as the usual 40 hour work week. The final moments were bittersweet and kinda hectic.
My drive to Utah was long with great weather and uneventuful traffic problems. By the time I rolled into Toph's driveway in Moab I was ready to curl up in a real bed, break down, and sleep ..... none such luck.
I've now been in Moab, Utah nearly four days. We've played homemade games with friends, slept in a yurt, drove and hiked through red rock canyons with secret streams lush with spring green cottonwoods, biked around town, bar be qued and yes - even sailed.
I still miss Montana and my buds there and feel a little separated prematurely from that place. BUT after this lay over with the Beitners I feel recharged as an adventurer enough to pack it up and move it out for the next leg of this journey. Ten hours of driving and about 30 hours of time stand between my Low and Bones reunion....
What to do in between ??? Kick it in Las Vegas? Check out the Mojave? Who knows....
Whoo hooo I love the road!

This is all that we have till we turn out the light...

2010-05-07T01:04:00.000-04:00

Big day today....
After 8 hours of barista bliss I rushed to the bank, then home to assist in the disassembly and packing of Kristin's furniture.... 19 pieces if you include the tables and legs separately. Well - I helped with some stuff, I also cooked a dinner of Kraft Mac and Cheese while they did heavy lifting =) Regardless - Kristin's (my) furniture is gone, saran wrapped, and padded - put away until her new beginning when fall semester rolls around for her graduate program.
Honey, the neighborhood runaway dog decided to visit during the moving chaos. Once the truck was gone the three dogs and I played some fetch at our greening neighborhood park.
By 6pm our landlord visited with three new tenants, explaining lease agreements and signing papers, papers that will end up prorating May's rent and terminating my financial obligations to Montana life. A new barista I've been training and quick new friend calls, and we're walking dogs by the river, sharing life stories and reveling in each other's company. A few days ago I talked to Toph about being bummed to leave Montana now that things have taken a turn for the better..... "ahhh, new boyfriend?" he teases..... "no actually..... new girlfriend...." I tease back. Seriously though - amazing companionship lately. Refreshing.
8pm store meeting at work.... WORK what a duldrum topic I won't vent about or divulge here - now , because it's so petty and inconsequential. Point being - most co workers are great and micro managing is ridiculous.
I drive Emily and her dog Opal home, where we exchange purging clothes piles and eat rocky road ice cream. We talk adventures, dynamics, gardening, MOTH.
By 11 I am home again with Geronimo topping this day burnt at both ends with a splash of red wine.

So it is as it was in the beginning. Me and Mo on a pile of blankets on the floor, simple and excited for things to come.

oh baby baby it's a wild world

2010-05-02T18:35:00.000-04:00

Blossoms shake in the wind, forefront of a snowy peaked backdrop.
Though May arrives these skies are cold and cloudy.
Intricate and complex.
Breeze swoops in this window and fills my lungs.
Mouth to mouth just as I was gasping for breath.
Coming to, coughing, dazed and heart full
I scan these horizons with hope coupled by yearning not meant for words.

spring fashion

2010-04-30T01:01:00.000-04:00

Rain tip tap splashes lightly all around.
Downtown streets bump with traffic lights, cat calls, and the homeless man urinating in an alley.
Clutching my bag, briskly I pass. Single
Dead Hipsters dance with Boom Swagger and stockings
Martinis, tall boys, and hand stamps.

Mornings are joyful
Laughs of magic spud marathons
mixed with iced mochas
Replacing this barista might not be so hard to do.

And the gooey cream between ends of a day could surprise you
moments short of breath, disoriented by doubt
excited for the road, sad for the leaving
apprehensive - pulled magnetically

heart fluttering
I take a step. forward.
mix magic. surprise short. rain tip tap swagger.
Dacia's coming. Dacia's coming.

full circle.

4.27

2010-04-28T01:50:00.000-04:00

I walk home in well-loved rain galoshes, sniffing. People laugh under porch awnings, cars are mostly still, worms wriggle across my sidewalk path. Reverting to wilderness ways I wonder if it's society I smell, women's perfume and laundry detergent. Perhaps. I settle instead on the thought that it is this wet spring night stretched out before my boots. Red Bud, lilac, willow, and a ton of other Garden City trees I can't identify. They fill my olfactory, seeping through like rainwater into the aquifer below these streets.
Songs bounce around my skull accompanied by the after taste of Huckleberry ice cream.
Thippity thump thump thump.
Water keeps coming down.
Guitars still strumming. I let Tuesday slip through these fingers with the finesse of a white-water skull.
Geronimo dozes off at my feet. Eyelids drop heavy.

how I learned to see....

2010-04-23T22:54:00.000-04:00

The sinking sun fades a very long work week into pale colors. Behind silhouettes of mountains and mostly bare tree limbs is a pinkish / tan, fading to near white, to deep blue; as if the sand and ocean were meeting in this Rocky Mountain sky.
As night draws nearer the subtle shades intensify. Black. All black : trees, power lines, everything between me and this neon dusk.
A half moon rises and breeze picks up to tossle these dark branches. Stars break through a deep blue planetarium over this garden city.
With all the lights off in my home I watch from the futon, Chris Pureka's new album "How I Learned to See in the Dark" is the soundtrack. A few street and security lights flood in, painting artificial light on this natural scene. I wonder how to best spend final moments in Montana. Camping? Climbing? Cutting my hair for the first time in two years? Dancing? Drinking? Packing. yikes.
Visions rush across my mind of rivers, coniferous forests, snow capped rocky summits, all that this place is, all that I came here for, all that I'm leaving. Geronimo's collar clanks and echoes off these walls. I am alone. In the dark. Watching this Big Sky. In a structure with so little creature comforts I can almost pretend to be camping.
Mo crawls onto the futon beside me, I restart the album. Recalculating which chords resonate in my being this evening I skip ahead to the last three tracks. The sky is so dark now an ever-gleaming flood light on the neighboring Tae Kwan Do gym obstructs my night vision of the moon and stars.
"Can't you see what you've done? Where's the safety net now? Where's the damage control? We were promised a whole set of balances. You took the crookedest line to our door, and you left us with one million eyes closed. " Honestly I don't know if her voice or chords strike me deeper. There seem to be secrets in the strumming my mind need not unfurl.
And now that night has nestled over this city, and Geronimo is nestled beside me Low rings my phone.
fellowship. complete.

4.22

2010-04-22T19:45:00.000-04:00

Sunny for days - we were giggling and soaking up rays of vitamin D
Shadows soften into a matte finish of a newly budded spring 'scape.
Storms brewing? Slow guitar twinges the soft safety of a not quite home.
Slate grey/blue backdropping blossoms opened in time.

dreams of mine. dreaming of mine.

some forms of presence are so sedating I take this sleepy scene
marinate my being
heart beat through shades of green

Window OPEN

2010-04-15T00:45:00.000-04:00

"Be content of mind and sound of soul as you travel your own road" Andrew Bones
Hillary and I walked warm sunny hills outside Missoula today; laughing about daily events, love, and the joy of this journey we call life. Thank God for Hillary. I spent over 10 hours in the basement of a gear shop today ; slinging espresso, zipping winter coats, regenerating a water softener and discovering a totally foreign dialect of outdoor rec - rafting packages. It's not so much that work is terrible, it's that in the midst of gear and commission and cleaning, a sunny walk with Hillary and Geronimo is the best part of my day.
I've been thinking a lot about community lately as I revel in final weeks with a Montana crowd, scheme to visit traveling companions, and am overflowing with excitement to reside less than a 10 hour drive from so many loved ones on the eastern side of this country. I think about spring peepers - singing in a damp night. Fog rolling off a river as sun warms the landscape. Summer is coming.
Hillary says I'm happier because of the confidence and contentment of having a plan. Truth. But not a whole truth.
Lately Ryan and I carry on like Franny and Zooey over enlightenment, and the steps in between. Happiness. God. Contentment. In his simplified life of cross country cycling and long distance hiking he's found a joy and clarity all too fleeting during his college years.
It's so wild - the journey.
How we all find similar things in different ways at different times.
He asks me from a picnic table set against a sinking sun in Arizona - are you happy? I nearly turn bitter or offended at the audaciousness of the question - until I realize - in that moment - no, no I'm not happy.
During the nomadic chapters of my life I'm quite happy, I have joy and clarity. My domestic chapters seem, well, a little more cumbersome.
But - as I mentioned - I've been thinking a lot about community, and how we're created to be together and care about one another. And I think Hillary and Bones are onto something. It's quite difficult to share life with others if you're not content of mind and sound of soul as you travel your own road.
My friends teach me this because we all have such different roads; caring for a two year old son, international self-powered treks, finishing up a final semester at school. All challenging paths with opportunity for joy, pain, and just maybe- enlightenment.
And me? I plan to pack up and resume my nomad ways in a month. After a few weeks of that scene I'll nestle into a new chapter at a Mountain Campus and Summer Camp for outdoor recreation and education in Virginia.
This past week I've realized - I am happy.
That coveted light beams into my soft grey tunnel; I catch sparkles in my hands. Content of mind and sound of soul. Traveling my own road. Sharing every step possible with a fellowship that warms my heart.
How beautiful.

Shooooooot

2010-04-08T23:06:00.001-04:00

Missoula in the spring. There will be a moment where the mountains are green, lilacs saturating this garden city, and chaco-clad feet walk dogs, all licking local ice cream. That moment is at least two weeks away - as wind whips across the north hills and and snow blows on high peaks. During my cleaning hours at work I hear the tippy tappy tat tat of hail bouncing off our sky lights. Most days have a few fleeting moments of gorgeous sunlight, quickly followed by cloud-diffused afternoons.
Geronimo's purple stitches hold his mangled ear together- it seems to be healing. It's a bit scabby and I'm not entirely certain the two pieces will rejoin through that clotted blood, but there's a better chance with a veterinary patch than the Drew/Bek glue attempt when Tanna first snack attacked mo.
Tikka's pretty naughty lately. In the trash, running away to the park, crying when Geronimo beats her to the frisbee.
Oh dogs.
Emily and I have started to list and show our home to potential new tenants; both excited to pack things up next month and leave Missoula, untethered for summer adventures.
Speaking of leaving Missoula - my next life chapter materializes a little more every day. If all goes well, I should settle into Virginia life near Shenandoah National Park June 2010- June 2011 after a few weeks of travel and camaraderie. Odd- last April I was hiking through snowy Smokey Mountains dreaming of Montana. This year is nearly the opposite- but some things are the same : the people I hold dear, the desire to be outside, and a yearning to invest in living life to the fullest while having one foot... okay maybe just a big toe, planted firmly on the ground =) Don't worry though - this time around it's a year rather than a summer and Geronimo's moving in too! Hooray Shenandoah!
After another solitary winter of soul searching for light unto my next step, I'm elated at the path before me. Options of Idaho, Utah, Alaska, New York all bounced around for awhile. But as it is - life works out just the way it ought - and for the first time in a long time I feel lighter, excited for a holistic contentment, seemingly overdue.
The things I've learned simply by living.... or living simple, if you'd rather.
For tonight- we'll wrap up. But as hopeful life springs forth, I suspect I'll share more with you soon!
~B

Opened in Time

2010-03-13T22:36:00.000-05:00

Leaves that should've detached in November are finally falling from trees. Spring is progressing with two steps forward and one step back. Can it really be? A green Montana?
I hope so. Missoula needs to spring back to life. Fall never quite happened, winter barely made a name for itself, employers have shut down, and the city as a whole feels out of sync. It's amazing - what a change of season will to do a place - or a person for that matter.
As ground thaws and I approach my year anniversary of Montana life I reflect on these seasons, and the ones ahead. I write little because I still have no clear path, though my heart is full and head dizzy weighing and pursuing options.
Winter has been pensive and searching. I'm not sure what else to catch you up on.

Overall though life is fine. I'm still serving coffee, singing to myself in the basement Monday-Friday and walking this beautiful landscape with the dogs every evening.

I hope spring is bringing fresh air to your life, and to give you a sunny update on mine soon =)

Virginia

2010-03-02T23:35:00.001-05:00

There is much and little to say all at the same time.
I feel more than write. I work and push towards progress the most.
I spent the last week of February where I grew up, in Virginia. A whirlwind 9 days of family, friends, hiking, photos, travel, and wondering.
One of the few things lacking in this adventure was - sleep. I'm hoping to catch up on that soon... okay, now.
But if you like, you're welcome to check out the pics above.
Each one is worth a a thousand words ;)

Soft and Grey

2010-02-13T14:48:00.000-05:00

Winter is a sleepy time. Clouds cover this Missoula valley 28 out of 31 days a month, diffusing soft grey light. Coniferous shapes of black trees pose stark contrast against a thin blanket of snow. My view. The mountains set against an out of focus sky, and I begin to wonder if I exist in a diffused monochromatic world.
"The sky is grey, and the sand is grey, and the ocean is grey. And I feel right at home, in this stunning monochrome, alone in my way." ~Ani Difranco
Oddly enough, this isn't entirely depressing. It is enough to be here, going through this. It never feels permanent, just definitively solitary. It is almost fantastical- like the color being drained from "The Wizard of Oz". Things are that way... because for now... they need to be, and perhaps my time in Montana is meant to understand this. To understand what it means to FEEL my way through life's seasons.
I don't even need to crunch my tax numbers to know that I'm broke. Or to thumb through my date book to know I spend more time with dogs than people. Or to step on a scale to process the stagnant insulation my body has acquired the past four months. My current existence is not the cheery vibrant Munchkin Land.
But for the first time in a while- I don't need it to be.
"Ah cause nothin is lost, it's just frozen in frost, and is opened in time..." ~Damien Rice
There are voices - dreaming churning voices, that beg me... follow up on that job offer, call that man, apply to graduate school just as back up, get in your car right now and just leave - leave it all. They serve as motivation, propelling me through this sleepy grey tunnel.
As far as I see though, I am in the midst of this tunnel, hand over hand, walking slow but deliberate - forward. Towards more grey - with the firm conviction - somewhere , a few steps further, there will be light.
And I know I'm doing a poor job of explaining it - but I'm thankful for the tunnel, thankful for the winter. I know I am growing up because I feel myself stretching through the freeze and thaws of my life.
Low told me the other day he and Bones came to the conclusion (and he meant this in the most positive way possible) that it's hard to care about much of anything these days. Striking me as complacent indifference I thought over this lots... and I've come to realize- it's true. Winter settles in for a season, families and friends grow and change, jobs shift, sometimes you give money and gifts, sometimes you receive money and gifts. This is just all part of life. Nothing to be alarmed or stressed about.
I mean- God's got it.
So why worry? Why wallow?
In the meantime... I would appreciate prayers of direction and light for my life. I've applied to many different directions and would like to take a turn through this tunnel in a direction leading to light and vibrancy. I know that will come when the time is right, but at the very least, it's an excuse for you to sit down and have a God chat =)
Thanks!

Saturday Snippet

2010-02-06T20:17:00.000-05:00

Life has been pretty mellow lately. It seems I've finally got the knack of pulling espresso shots, steaming milk, and understanding what flavor does to a beverage .... now cooking actual meals for myself once I'm home is another story. Why is it that when you work 40 hours a week... the LAST thing you'll do when you get home is whatever you do at work... whether it's cook, clean dishes, fold clothes, or even counsel people?
Having Emily and Tikka back in the house is a warm change of pace from the beginning of January. Despite all of this I get a little stir crazy - wanting to move through physical and geographic space, and feeling financially stifled. Hopefully my Virginia venture in a few weeks will appease my appetite for motion.
I took a drive through the bitterroots today after walking around Blue Mountain with Em and Tik. Different mountains gleamed in a sunlight breaking through clouds. Forty degree weather seemed to beg the barter of $2 tip money for 2 McDonald's ice cream cones.... Geronimo eats his SO fast...
I saw familiar places where I slept mere months ago. I thought about the friends that guided me through that life chapter, smiling at ragged peaks and quilted relationships.
Home again home again I crawled into bed ... Mo quick to follow.
It is a quiet, simple, almost comfortable life we lead.

Snuggled under sheets, down, quilts, and my favorite dog, Bones' music soothes me from the inside-out.

http://andrewbones.weebly.com/index.html

I highly recommend welcoming him into your home.

Goodnight Wednesday.

2010-02-04T02:09:00.000-05:00

Geronimo snores, laying on top of my feet. Borrowed music plays from my itunes. My hair is damp from a late night shower and I'm thinking coffee time will come far too early tomorrow. Sorry for the lack of writing lately. I've been feeling a little verbally exhausted from cover letters and resume revamps, but I hope the effort pulls in great results soon.
I've been trying to ski as much as possible since Emily's return to Missoula. I went twice this past weekend .... pretty sure I used/pulled dormant muscles trying to "herringbone" up a hill on my XC skis. going uphill on something slippery? not the most fun thing. But the scenery was great, company charming, and Tikka and Geronimo were VERY happy frolicking through the University of Montana's experimental forest.
I'm hoping to return to Glacier soon for another XC adventure. This weekend however may manifest itself to townie time with my best bud Dacia =) Always an adventure in and of itself.
I hope you are well. I hope this new year is bringing you beautiful moments. I hope to write more soon.

With a little help.

2010-01-06T19:47:00.001-05:00

There are shades of blue and green in Montana I have never seen. Glacial turquoise lakes, alpenglow dusks set against snowy peaks. I wait in anticipation a clear January sky darkens. I conjure mirages of the northern lights on the horizon, my belly growls.
My neighbor across the alley just yelled and cursed out Geronimo, Mo was scared. My dying crotchety old neighbor is probably the worst part about living here .... he stands at the glass sliding door of his double wide, gazing across his perfectly manicured lawn in nowhere Missoula, waiting for Mo or I to do something that pisses him off, so he can yell at either or both of us. Delore. Delore pisses ME off. But tonight - for the first time - I was thinking who cares. Let him stare. Stalk. Scream. Let him poison his life... not mine... I have enough to worry about.
I've spent the past few days trying to get my head on straight, heart directional... and freakin make some money already. Where to go? What to do?
I plan on applying to some career oriented positions and some graduate programs, a geographical smattering of options... and see where that takes me.
I'm so sick of the perpetual application process. But maybe this time it won't be so bad.... this time I'm not so alone.

night like this

2010-01-04T22:25:00.000-05:00

I hunker down inside the glow of wooden walls. Cozy with Mo. Opening the door unexpectedly finding - snow. Fresh dusting. Sparkling.
Perhaps it was always there, waiting. Perhaps it came contingent on a moment like this.
Fall in Missoula? Winter in Montana? Cats and Rabbits?
Things are never as I might think or you might suppose.
Things are.
Finesse?
Loosen that grip.
Let is shimmy through your fingers.
Diamonds on the inside. Diamonds dust the icy alley.

If only in my dreams.

2009-12-25T02:20:00.001-05:00

Merry Christmas to all... and to all a good night =)
From Montana, with love =*

Waiting Rooms, a Crash Course

2009-12-06T16:23:00.000-05:00

I'm holed up in a coffee shop in the ski town of Whitefish Montana. The 3 ish hour drive north from Missoula was scattered with snow, talk of government affairs and Tribal money, waterfalls in the Mission Mountains and wildhorses on Flathead Lake islands.
Montana is so complex. So beautiful.
I've come here to study and work while Emily and Josh ski big mountain. It's 10 degrees outside in the sun, and windy. Thank God =) Winter.
Winter is different in Montana than anywhere else I've experienced it - and I find myself craving that - needing a shift in seasons to feel grounded, and on time.
Paper star lanterns, and garland strung with Christmas lights adorns the front of this espresso bar. They served me a piping hot glass of Mayan Mocha, and here I stay, delved into sentence analogy drills and the treasure hunt of reading comprehension.... five pages into "Math Vocabulary: Numbers" I had to take a break...

Sometimes this all feels rash - sudden- crazy. Maybe it always is.... I mean... can I really pull off being in grad school, investing in a reasonable paying career and on my way to achieving life goals by fall? Test in a few weeks? Application packet in a month?
I take a deep breath... clear my head and heart... and attempt focus - on something positive, something constructive.

Truth? It seems like a ludicrous unrealistic plan - that's why it just might work.

Hahaha... for better or worse I'm an insatiable dreamer, it gets me into pickles, and it boosts my brilliance. I really believe if I follow my heart and trust God things will work out. I don't understand the process, I can't crunch numbers, and I'm not sure I'm capable of a long term plan. But maybe dreams are closer to plans than most grounded folks realize.
The idea of being surrounded by peers studying counseling is humorous and fabulous.
I wonder why I can't just pick ONE profession, one town to live, charm one man to love me. Maybe someone can explain this to me.
Maybe all of it will fall through and I'll continue to pull espresso shots in a basement in Montana for years, hanging with the pups, with no one putting their hand over my heart.
But that's the beauty of all of it - when you got nothing you've got nothing to lose. And when your waiting room is as awe inspiring as this wintry mountain landscape .... what's a few more unanswered questions?

Everything I wondered about - all of the basic primal things - while living in the woods were answered in time. If only I keep moving and walking.

I am SO thankful to have completed the 2,175 mile walk of the A.T. It taught me that it doesn't matter a helluva lot what's going on right now... I just keep moving through it, and things fall into place.

Being able to accept grace and blessing without understanding is one of my favorite qualities in a lifestyle and a person.

So maybe that's really what I'm after - grace, blessing, and laughter.

If that makes me an insatiable dreamer - so be it. If that leads to a life of disappointment - I'm willing to gamble on that.

Make You Feel My Love

2009-12-05T19:52:00.001-05:00

My family is particularly poignant about their sentiment that unless I live within driving distance from them I cease to function as "part of the family". This is very puzzling (not to mention hurtful) to me because plenty of families live apart; different towns, states, timezones, countries, hemispheres.
I used to think I could change anything I wanted to - that I had the power and faith to move mountains, save the world. I'm wondering these days if it's more appropriate to pick and choose battles - that I can't in fact change everything, that maybe I shouldn't want to. Living in the woods teaches you - the only thing you can change is yourself- and living in the city supports that. Because really, we all have to be the change we want to see... right?
I don't think life is easy for anyone. We're all faced with choices, some feel open wider about options than others- but when you get down to it - choosing is tough. And this whole process of becoming an independent adult... what to wear, where to work, how to live, whom to love - laden with choices, big and small along the way. I would never claim that I make impeccable choices. My heart falls for hopeless romances, my questing takes me to desolate lonely places, my professional passions barely pay minimum wage, and the belts on my car squeal for at least a minute when I first turn it on. This is who I am. These are parts of myself and my life. I got myself here, and a lot of other people fueled the process. I try to do the best I can with what I'm given - I think we all do - but the thing to understand is that's very relative.
You're doing the best you can with what you're given - or anyways... I hope you are. It's all a question of how you process this, or realization : what are you given? What is the best thing to do with that?
That's the thing about bashing other people's life choices - how do you know if you had what they have to work with you'd be so very different?
How does my family know if they had a heart, head, spirit, and passion that I do that they would stay in the Virginias living impeccably conventional traditional lives?
I have no logical explanation for my journey, all I can offer is that I am sensitive to the movement- and believe in following your heart. Every time Jesus performed a healing miracle he immediately told the healed person to move - to go. I mean if we're LIVING the life God intended we're living in motion. Stability is one thing - stagnancy is another. It is my intention and desire to forbid stagnancy in my life.
In a life of movement, there is constantly a factor of heartache and disappointment from those that love you. But I believe I move when God tells me to; I drop the wedding photography job to work at Alta Mons, I move out of my Grandin Apt to hike the Appalachian Trail, I drive to British Colombia to see fall foliage and rocky mountain majesties, I house my divorced friends' furniture while she splits town to sort through heartache.

My favorite bible verse is John 6:15 "Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself."
I like the idea that even Jesus - the most divine creature to walk this earth withdrew from crowds to solitude on a mountain.
I do not know how long I'll stay in Montana. I do not know when I'll be in the Eastern Time Zone again - but I'm not particularly worried about that. This time in Montana is more clearly shaping into my withdrawal to the mountain myself, alone.

And being alone is lonely. Being alone gets you thinking, processing, figuring. Being on a mountain gives you a different perspective, a removed overlooking perspective.

Jesus doesn't come back to the disciples from his mountaintop withdrawal until they are on a rough sea and he walks across it, asking of their faith.

I wonder how he was recharged from his mountaintop, I wonder what he thought about, I wonder what his perspective was, to return to those he loved in such a bold fierce way?

I have never traveled anywhere that decreases my love for my family and friends. If anything those relationships feel strengthened by the distance, stripped of convenience and polished to reveal the brilliance of genuine compassion and concern.

So- you can see how confusing and hurtful it would be for people to tell me that because I'm not geographically near them I am choosing to not be part of them. And frankly- it's selfish to ask someone not to do the best they can with what they're given; to move, to seek. No one writes our story but ourself- and no one knows what's best for you - better than you- and every day we have to be the change we hope to be and there's nowhere that's more clear than a mountain.

So here I sit, in a financially relationally stripped humble existence, figuring, asking, seeking.
I think the answer will be given. I believe the door will be opened. I think this wait will be worth while.

To my family and friends- you may be on a boat in rough seas when I return- but I will - someday. Be not afraid, have a little faith. Understand I love you endlessly.

Support Bones

2009-11-30T23:45:00.000-05:00

If you've been reading this for awhile - you know who Bones is. If you forget he's a brilliant vibrant baby raptor. I mean... he's one of my best friends, traveling companions, and favortie musicians. He recently released some original tracks, you should check em out. Even buy a few if you find you can't live without them.

http://andrewbones.weebly.com/

25

2009-11-27T21:39:00.000-05:00

For my birthday I am interested in becoming ... okay... dressing... like a lumberjack or a 80s euro motorcyclist.
Silly - I realize - but the fashionista in me seems to be blossoming with this college town / barista life.
I've spent this holiday doing all of my favorite Thanksgiving holiday things; road trip through the mountains, brilliant music, dinner with loved ones, door buster Black Friday shopping, pizza lunch, and cheesey Christmas movies. On top of all of that, I mixed in some napping, a bath, and lots of phone time.
The only issue is - I wasn't with any of my amazing family, and most of my friends are out of Missoula for the holiday. This Birthday has been very mellow and solitary, but I guess I'd pick that over working any day.
On my way home from the mall today I swung by my P.O. Box and found a card from my grandfather. My family (especially my Mom and Grandpa) have a really hard time understanding or supporting my life in Montana. But I was surprised to read this.

Life Legacies
Thoughts for my Granddaughter on her Birthday
LIVE DEEP
Never stop learning, playing, or finding wonder in the world around you. Live the length of your life, but live the depth of it as well.
TRAVEL LIGHT
There is no use in carrying around worry and regret. They only weigh you down. Always keep yourself open to hope and to love. They give us wings.
FORGIVE IMPERFECTIONS
in yourself and others. Imperfections keep things interesting. They're the cracks where the light shines through.
OWN BEAUTIFUL THINGS
and not just in the drawer, tucked away for a perfect day. Surround yourself with things that make you happy, that remind you of the beauty all around us if we only keep our eyes open to it.
MAKE MISTAKES
follow detours. Sometimes it takes an unexpected an unexpected turn to help us find the life that is waiting for us around the bend. Trust yourself and the path that is meant for you.
TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF
(penned in by my Grandpa... as no one else can) And sometimes that means you need the ice cream. Be good to your body, but also to your mind and spirit. You're the only one who can.
AND ALWAYS ALWAYS KNOW YOU ARE LOVED
you are a gift to this world and a blessing to me. And that will never change.
Love, your Grand-Pa

So- I'm happy to report that I'm pretty sure I do all of those things. As I read the card and saw those beautiful feelings in writing - and realized that that IS how I live my life I was quite pleased.

I'm thinking I should work at a college or run a camp. I'm thinking as long as I'm poor I might as well take out loans and continue with my education.

I hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving and are kicking off the holidays season with all of your favorite people and traditions.

Saturday Night Fever... Trailhead Style

2009-11-14T00:21:00.000-05:00

I toss chopped tates (po tatoes) in a skillet with Greek Marinade, let them soften up. I toss in yellow pepper, kidney beans, and let it all blend together with the fresh ground salt and pepper. Original recordings of Woodie Guthrie twang and bounce off the warm glowing faux wood paneled walls. Geronimo and Tikka have put themselves to bed. When my concoction is ready I grate feta cheese over my steaming bowl. Dinner with a side of Bluegrass- yes please.
Hillary is out with her boyfriend and others, doubting I'm sure, that I'll meet them downtown. Emily just walked through the door - home from her first Missoula Maulers hockey game.
I've waited years to have a home to myself, and ever since I've moved in here and acquired furniture I think of a lot of reasons to hang at home instead of go out. In fact I even printed some photos and ... taped them... to the walls of our living room the other night (I know, that's far less sexy than HANGING photos on the wall, but one step at a time).
I remember all the fun times Hillary and I had sneaking away from Field Camp this summer, and I think ... "you should get it together, put on some boots and a dress, and dance it up tonight".
I think about work today and how it'll feel early rolling into Southgate Mall at 9:30 tomorrow. We're already making big plans for Sunday, since it's the first one I don't have to work in a few weeks. We'll probably hit up one of the oldest churches around Missoula - St. Xavier Cathedral.
So with sleeping dogs, a full belly, Emily dipping into her hot cocoa canister, opening her book Captivating, and harmonica on my laptop speakers - downtown will probably have to wait for a night that feels more "weekend" to me.
Boring and lame? Maybe. But I feel very very content =)

National Geographic

2009-11-10T01:03:00.000-05:00

SOOO
National Geographic is airring their special on the Appalachian Trail Tuesday November 10 6pm EST.
It looks like it'll be pretty good... especailly since my friends are in it. Most of it was shot in 2008, and the Katahdin summit footage was shot the same day I climbed the mountain, a few hours before I was on top.
I know you guys have been peeping my pictures and writing... but I'm sure I haven't even tipped the iceberg of all that is - the A.T.
So check out the show.
I'm not sure where I'll find cable to watch... any volunteers to record it for me? =)

Captivating

2009-11-07T19:44:00.001-05:00

Thick stormy blue clouds hover just over the western mountains, seperating them between the dusky sky. They look like clouds I saw so many nights around Glacier this summer - dark, deep, gargantuan ... over Lake McDonald or the Middle Fork of the Flathead River.
We have quite a few picture windows in our home, and moments like these I'm not sure if I should bask in the view beyond the glass or savor what's on my side - The warm glow and candles and lamp light against wood walls. Emily, Tikka, and Geronimo all curled up, napping, on Kristin's futon, while a load of drying laundry tumbles in the background. Quiet - peaceful - like a Christmas Carol in the dead of winter.
It's dark so early these days. Almost 6, almost dark. SUCH a stark difference to our 11pm dusks in Glacier this summer. Sometimes I think we have a long cold dark winter ahead of us. Sometimes I'm excited for that.
After two days of wandering through passing storm clouds, wind whipped prarie lands, mountaintops, and the corners of my heart I thought I might sit to write - unload a bit. But sitting here and typing here I realize that's not where I'm at.
I climbed up, over, and down my first mountain since May on our family adventure today. To watch clouds race shadows over a landscape, have feathery larch needles shed in my fingers, and see the whole glacial lake missoula valley where I live... made me love Montana. Love mountains. Love the journey.
But at home now I realize I have little understanding of love and there is little to unload.
Just the blues of dusk, the glow of small lights, grunting dogs, and two captivating available women.
It is what it is.

Pumpkin

2009-10-29T02:31:00.000-04:00

My bedroom is pungent with the smell of the "pumpkin Carnival" candle flickering on Kristin's beautiful dresser. Hazelnut lingers in the kitchen , the scents colliding somewhere in the living room. My second load of laundry for the night (and month) tosses around in the dryer.
Emily and I seem to be one futon pad short of a bonafide furnished home. How strange. Looking around, everything still seems to be Kristin's... just hanging out at my house... but I imagine sometime when I'm wearing freshly laundered clothes and serving Dacia breakfast off the kitchen table it'll start to feel part mine too. She's headed to Alaska Friday, with her Dad, and fresh perspective on M.O.T.H. (matters of the heart, that is).
My first weekend on Idaho St Dacia bussed up from Butte and we camped out- with nothing- on the living room floor. The next weekend I ran away to British Columbia. This "weekend" aka being off Tuesday and Wednesday have proven very domestic - took my first bath in the new place, cleaned, acquired furniture, paid all the bills, even hooked up a washer and dryer - much of that with help from friends.
Dacia's headed up again for Halloween Festivities =D Perrrrffeeeccctttt. I'm almost done with my outfit- Princess Lolly from the game Candyland.
Emily and I made a deal - October is for moving in and getting settled - November is for getting established. She reminded me tonight I have to get serious about my freelancing in the month to come.
I've recently picked up an old college habit- checking music out from the library. My freshman year at Emory & Henry I consumed music, I seem to be easily falling back to that- which brightens my day - lately almost every CD I skip home with is bluegrass - what can I say ? Appalachian at heart - always. But Low sent me some new tunes, and Jeremiah Johnson intends to (as soon as he unpacks some of his moving boxes).
And so it is- this wandering girl is stretching some roots...
November should be a pivotal month. My Mom told me tonight a 25th birthday is my biggest age milestone until 50. I guess I hadn't thought of it like that, I'm a bit more freaked out for 30. BUT if it must be a big deal... here I am, an accomplished long distance hiker and far reaching dreamer. I still have many more dreams to work towards- but I feel good about all my years. I hope my Grandma would be proud of me. November is a month for her, and me, and Thanksgiving, and family. Hard to say what I'll do for my favorite holiday this year, but I'm working that super important 25th birthday =/ Hahaha. Guess that's what you get for growing up - selling Patagonia clothes at the mall on Black Friday.
But for now, there are soft places to lay, elevated spots to sit, and cozy smells all around. One day at a time- and these days are for Pumpkins =)

past, present, future

2009-10-19T13:56:00.000-04:00

I know it may be strange, but ever since the AT I often think "what was I doing this day, a year ago". Maybe it helps me stay grounded, and feel roots I often forget in this life of motion and vast geography the past few years. It's amazing- what we can make of life. I wonder how many others' realize this? I wonder if I fully appreciate it.

Journal Entries

"10/17/08 Standing Indian Shelter NC 9pm 'Do not look back and ask 'why?' look forward and ask 'why not?' ~Dark Chocolate Dove Wrapper ..."

"10/19/08 Rock Gap Shelter 32degrees 9am Jim aka Paul with Bunyans has been talking my ear off since I rolled in @ 8:45 last night - near running thru the dark woods singing to keep bears away. Started in my down jacket and rain pants - in my long underwear by the fire at the end of it. When night hiking a headlamp and a fire are two of the most welcoming sights imaginable..."

"10/20/08 Wayah Shelter 38 degrees 8am Glimpses of mountains and valleys thru the fall foliage are beautiful- the sun rose lovely today- and as I'm on a mountainside I can see deep golden rays - hopeful- instead of tucked in the heart of mountain hollers. 2 SOBOs Gabe and Energizer Bunny have left. EB was one of the first SOBOs I saw in Sage's Ravine CT/MA border. He was with 3 guys, they all quit. D.P. showed up- I didn't think I'd see him after Albert Mountain dinner the other night- nice for familiar company but I'm still not comfortable with him. Yesterday morning was lovely. I hiked fast with water views, some uphills but a lot of down, feeling good @ road to Franklin. Pushed up faster further than I should before lunch. Felt tired drained and defeated the rest of the day. Called Birdbath and Hot Cheese from a sunny field by a dirt road and found I wanted to cry. After a long lunch got up and to Wayah Bald- One of my favorite spots on the trail so far. Because the sky was blue and brilliant from the stone tower I could see Standing Indian, Albert Mtn - other side I could see the Smokey's Clingman's Dome. Exciting and daunting. Reminded me of the first view of the Whites from Greylock, but no Ryan to lure me forward. No more damn boys. Just this trip, this girl, make it or break it"

I haven't been writing much in my journal since my days of walking have shifted to driving and the travel across a space has hastened exponentially. I wrote a couple weeks ago while in Fernie. Sharing these entries makes me realize I should pick it up regularly again.

So... what am I up to in 2009?

I was off Saturday and Sunday this weekend (a rare occurrence for me to have 2 weekend days off in a row). Friday night I holed up with Emily and the dogs, cozy in our blankets on the living room carpet and watch One Hour Photo. Decent movie- but the major impression it had on me - was how much I miss my Dad. Ever since I was in middle school he's been a movie junkie - frequently coming home from the Pharmacy with 4 movies at a time. They were rarely movies I WANTED to watch, despite that and my high school homework and fatigue from running practice I'd stay up and watch with him anyway. While I was hiking Geronimo filled in as movie watching couch buddy with my Dad.

Saturday I spent the morning with Hillary hanging downtown at the markets and shopping for pieces for our Halloween getups. Princess Lolli of Candyland for me, and Miss Piggy with the swine flu for Hillary. The highlight of my afternoon was a long catch up phone session with my older sister. And in the evening Hillary and her boyfriend invited me to an Octoberfest party with Monte and Elvis. The party was outside of town through farm fields, and a quick walk down a tiki torch lit path over a creek, through the woods, to a bon fire with bluegrass musicians and just enough people.

Sunday I popped some cinnamon rolls in the oven while Emily and I slipped on dresses and cowboy boots for church. She kept making cracks about "Our Sunday's Best" and after a tasty morning we found ourselves clapping and praying in the pews of First Presbyterian Church (my first time back since college). A few of folks I went to bible study with are kickin around - one has a child now, and there's a new River Runs Through It memorial our front. There was a lot of talk of fly fishing, rivers, and Philippians - "Life is Christ". We came home, had a family photo shoot with the porch rail as our tripod and those squirrely dogs. Eventually heading out to Blue Mountain to climb a small one and revel in the sun, ponderosa pines, and glowing grass. On our way home we splurged and whipped into Applebees.I digested while catching up with Ryan, who after much adventure and hurt has settled out into a great friend.

This weekend in my hometown was the Fincastle Run. My younger brother, his girlfriend, my high school friends, all ran through the Virginia hills and fall foliage. My mom hung out and took photos.

I am happy in Montana, I am glad to have come here, and feel like I'm finally settling in enough to create a community here. But I miss these things- these small things. Watching movies with my Dad, staying up late to jam guitars with Jam Spot, pumpkin patch field trips with my kindergarten teaching sister, how randomly my Mom bakes things. Sunday post-church lunch with all of them. Watching Cindy and Stewart play with their son Carson. Dragging Bethany downtown Roanoke with me to meet up with Stephanie and those Harwell boys. Matt Fischer's heatless cabin and dog play dates. Climbing mountains with Luke. The way Doug looks behind the register at ODT. Sydney Bean's Halloween outfits. Having my bankers at Suntrust harass me about my dating life and never need to ask for an ID.

And now it's Monday and I'll be selling Patagonia clothes at Southgate Mall within an hour. Which is less stressful than the idea of being downtown and selling Ski stuff I'm still a bit clueless over.

Do I dare wonder or ask... what next year? October 2010.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jer 29:11 (NIV)

This outta be good =D

Idaho Street

2009-10-12T12:14:00.000-04:00

Yesterday seemed to be a long day at work, and I had to stay late to mop.
Eventually I came home to Emily on the living carpet with her Biochemistry book, her chocolate lap curled on a blanket beside her, and a 19 in TV with a movie going about 6 ft in front of her... also on the floor.
She joined me in the kitchen while I slid my spaghetti noodles and sauce into a pot on the stove top and popped some garlic toast in the oven (no microwaves around here). We talked about our days and our weekends... and by the time my dinner was ready she rose from our one chair - and offered it to me to eat at the kitchen counter. We chatted more while she perched on the counter, leaning against the kitchen cabinets.
After clean up she resumed her position on the carpet, and I brought my laptop in the living room. Somewhere in the middle of "Music and Lyrics" I glanced over at Tikka and Emily, and Geronimo curled up beside me on the floor, in our empty empty home and thought "This is beautiful, I couldn't ask for much more".

Quick Update

2009-10-05T12:52:00.000-04:00

I have a roof and four walls in Missoula! You can still reach me via my PO Box. Geronimo and I will be living with the fabulous new Pharmacy school student Emily from Minnesota and her chocolate lab Tikka. We've got a lot of furniture aquiring and decorating to do =)
Work is great. On top of selling gear and clothes downtown and at the mall I'm also learning the very scientific complicated socially attuned art of being a barista. (how many shots of espresso would you like?)
Now that I've taken my yearly pilgrimage to Fernie BC and don't have to house hunt every spare minute things should mellow out into fall as Montana prepares for the winter.
But then again... you never can tell what God will put in your path.

Strength through Surprises

2009-09-21T00:23:00.000-04:00

I'm sitting at Kristin's I mac at her amazing rental in Corvallis MT debating whether or not I should drink a hot cup of chai. Yes- because it's a chilly early fall evening, no because a year ago I was in the best shape of my life and a few weeks ago some woman I was selling shoes to asked when I was expecting...
My throat hurts, and I just returned Geronimo to the the kennel after an amazing weekend in the woods- full of surprises.
I'd intended, for weeks, to spend this weekend in Glacier. After weeks of emotionally taxing house hunting around Missoula I thought it'd be great to get away from all my stresses for a few days. I had plans to kick it with a fellow I met my last week in Glacier National Park, a funny fabulous human that captains a boat and hangs Christmas lights around New York City - I've been excited -to say the least. So when he called Thursday to let me know for a variety of reasons our plans weren't quite what we thought, I said thanks, I understand, I'll figure something else out.
See the thing is- through all the rejection of not being picked as a housemate, or renter, or having your buddy do something else instead of hang out with you... all this sort of rejection is bringing a MORE than healthy dose of humility to my life. I used to get upset about these things, and I still do a bit, but mostly I say thank you, that stinks, but I'll get along.
So I came down to the Bitterroot Mountains, to kick it with Geronimo, find Kristin, and check OUT of Missou for a few days.
Kristin is one of my best friends and few role models. I know that's kinda weird- looking up to someone your age- but I just can't help it. She's a dreamer and a doer, who has achieved amazingly great things in our short years of life. She is inspiring, sympathizing, inquisitive, and currently- going through heart break.
We've come to each other through hard times in our 6 years of a friendship since starting photojournalism school. We talk about ethics, philosophy, the wild, life journeys, dogs, boys. Most of our chats the past 3 years through huge life changes have been via phone, (Seattle-Maine, Montana-Virginia, etc). The opportunity to be in her home astounds me - and though technically I have no where else to go- I'm grateful to God and fate for us being in Montana, together, to go through this.
Funny thing about bad surprises- they grow you. See few people wish ill will upon themselves. You don't walk around saying 'I hope something terrible happens to someone I love" or "I hope I get terminally ill" or "I hope I job hunt for a year and end up barely making minimum wage" or "I hope I wander around my new town for a month couch surfing and creating awkward moments with my friends". No. No one wishes those things - because those things SUCK. But you know- ready or not- they happen. And when they happen- you get to find out just how strong you really are.
Sometimes I think I personally proved that while hiking the Appalachian Trail, other times I think I proved it when facing the guy that initiated my homeless streak while at work. But after a weekend in the woods with myself, Geronimo, and Montana awe--some ness I think strength- true strength- is not at all about proving.
Lately I think true anything has nothing to do with proving. If a thing is. It just is. I am strong. Kristin is fiercely wonderful. Geronimo is my child and best friend. Mountains are beautiful.
There is no justification. No explanation. I know that there WAS proof... I just don't care anymore. I can gracefully and faithfully accept and acknowledge these things.
Sucky surprises... they knock you on your ass for awhile. But somewhere in the cloud of dust and despair you feel a new, unknown strength putting you back on your feet (and if you're real lucky you've got a loving smile and hand reached out to you).
So you stand back up. Shakey- but more solid than you could've known.
I am strong. Needs no proof- but surprises me every time.
And Kristin... she's wintering in Alaska.
But tomorrow morning there is cinnamon streusel muffins, hot chai, and a new day.

PO BOX how hip

2009-09-11T00:53:00.000-04:00

I'm on Hillary's futon in my new goodwill pj pants while Geronimo works on his rawhide bone. The Missoula night air is chilly - ushering in a new season, and I'm delighted for a night in with Audrey Hepburn as My Fair Lady.
I'm trying not to think about my multiple housing situations that have fallen through, trying to hold faith that something... soon... will materialize.
Like so many dreamers and doers before and after me I've decided to make the best of my situation and work with what I have, instead of dwell on what I don't.
That being said, I'm now the proud renter of P.O. Box 7216 in the stately downtown Missoula building (zip 59807 if you care to write =)
With which I've finally opened a Montana bank account, the first since 2003.
I'll save us both the rollercoaster of emotions ensued from my home hunt- suffice to say I'm still searching- and will let you know when I've landed somewhere.
Oh- and I do like my new job, but I miss my work family at Outdoor Trails.

Low feeds me music

2009-08-22T23:03:00.000-04:00

and I leave the table more than satisfied =)

National Parks and Malls

2009-08-16T16:29:00.000-04:00

I'm sitting in the Kallispell Mall watching hipster teens pick out accessories at Claire's, old men talk to themselves as they wait on a bench, and middle age couples cruise around - new purchases in hand. Will I really be working in a mall in two weeks? Coming from Field Camp this people watching is amusing, I hope I stay removed enough from it to keep that view while spending 40 hours a week in one.
The last three days I spent in Many Glacier, a slightly removed corner of Glacier National Park, seeming to be more wild in scenery and wildlife than the already impressive going to the sun road regions. I saw three grizzly bears, three moose (cow, calf, and bull, a few hoary marmots and some folks in my group were lucky enough to encounter a pine marten! It was a wet chilly trip, temperatures between 30 and 50 most of the time with pretty consistent precipitation - sometimes rain, sometimes hail. The group I was with are visiting Glacier from the Adirondack Hiking Club (most of them living in upstate New York). My boss and I are both pretty thankful for that- they've been extremely resilient despite the less than ideal circumstances. So we hiked past lowland lakes into the high country to see glaciers cleaving into growing lakes and already deglaciated lakes with icebergs in them.
This landscape is quite certainly impressive.
After a few days I found myself less than satiated from the experience and wondering... why? Watching these neatly dressed folks walk around on the shiny tiled floor of this mall I think I realize why. National Parks - are a lot like malls.
Nearly every hike the Glacier Institute leads people on in the months of July and August (the only months the entire park is open and accessible) is teeming with people. Coveted destinations become that way for a reason- they are beautiful- people like to see beautiful places. The irony that more visitors detract from the "scenic wild beauty" everyone is coming to see seems lost on most folks as they amble along these well traveled paths.
Sometimes as I hike I wonder when I will see a weasel, or bear, wildcat, wolf. Lately I've realized - despite them BEING here I might as well count on NOT seeing them so long as I pass 10, 20, 100? people along the trail.
I guess it's more a matter of knowing what you're getting yourself into. It's good for folks to have a chance to see nature, for screaming babies to venture out with their parents and siblings, for city folk to see mountain goats. Are they seeing a wild place? Kind of. Being around them all- am I seeing a wild place? No.
I'm thinking I should get to know the Bob Marshall Wilderness. I'm thinking the romantic notion I've harbored about National Parks is mostly defunct. I'm wondering if it's possible to feel "wild" in a place where people from all over our country and others are corralled to stand in front of interpretive signs and learn about a place.
Beyond anything I know that I'm very thankful for cities. Cities and towns are absolutely where the mass of society should hang out in. Should everyone appreciate nature? Sure, that'd be great. But if everyone hung out in wild places all the time they would in fact be less wild.
I've had a lot of adventure buddies that have felt this way; I've always viewed it as cynical and selfish, but after living in a beautiful nature setting and having to interact with as many people as I see walking around this mall I know what they mean. I'm glad not everyone hikes the Appalachian Trail. I'm glad wilderness is scary to some people. And I'm glad the majority of folks passing this window, cell phone in hand, texting, will spend most of their time in corporated city limits.
One final thought, advice from Edward Abbey:
"Do not burn yourself out. Be as I am-a reluctant enthusiast... a part time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it is still there. So get out there and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains. Run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely, mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to your body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those deskbound people with their hearts in a safe deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards."

August... already.

2009-08-06T00:52:00.000-04:00

Evening sky turns grey/ green with lightening across the river. Upturned cottonwood leaves shake pale, almost white against the white bark and darkened sky. Families scamper out of the tipi, away from stories of native creation and fur trappers.
Hillary and I sneak away to the kitchen for late dinner, tea, and girl talk.
Eventually we find ourselves in the office with peanut M&Ms myspace music and dreams, while a near full moon illuminates dispersing clouds.
The kids claim to have seen a close lightening strike and baby beaver on their walk to Quarter Circle Bridge (where lower McDonald Creek dumps into the Middle Fork of the Flathead River) reminding me... I never went for that swim today. No matter - it seems almost enough to have clean shiny hair for the first time in.. 3? ... ? days.
I tell Hillary our time in Glacier will be done before we know it... leaves will change and we'll meet for a drink in downtown Missoula. Maybe I say it to convince myself... this is real... this is happening.
For those of you whom I haven't told I've secured a full time job at an outfitter in Missoula, starting September 1st. The work should be comparable to Outdoor Trails (the store I've worked in since it's 2001 Daleville opening). Gear shops are not professions to make one rich... but the side benefits are enough to invest in a happy well-rounded life. I get to stay in Montana. I get to work in Missoula. And I'm on the look out for lodging. If all goes well Dacia (my first Montana friend and roommate from college) will be living with me by February. Sometimes dreams really do come true =)
I know, I know, it's been too long since I've written, and it seems I'm constantly excusing myself for that... but you might imagine weather doesn't permit Glacier National Park to be open and functional much of the year. July and August are really the peak seasons and at Field Camp we've been insanely busy. We've just started getting days off again (something that didn't really happen the month of July) and the schedule looks promising to calm down towards the end of this month.
Highlights of life since we last talked have been hanging out with art classes here at field camp, spending a weekend fly fishing, being flipped 5 different ways at the cowboy bar, and spending time with Low and Bones on their way to Alaska.
Ahhh and the most important highlight... Geronimo is spending the month of August with a wonderful, kind generous family who has a few homes (farm in north central Montana and house on the golf course... just across the river from me). So that is a huge guilt and stress lifted from me. The kennel he was in took great care of him, but the thought of him snuggled in a 9 year boy's bed after harvesting grain all day makes me very happy.
So we are well. We are blessed. We are grateful at what has come and hopeful about what is to be.
I wish the same for you =)
Anyone want to take my yearly October British Columbia drive with me?

Naturalist

2009-06-27T19:53:00.000-04:00

Ralph Waldt smushes western hemlock needles between his fingers, puts it to his nose and passes it to me. "You can learn every tree in this forest by smell" he says. I laugh, but a only a little, my mind reeling with that possibility...
The brilliant two weeks I spent hiking with Jeremiah Johnson were peppered with tree knowledge, and sparked a growing desire in me to learn plant identification better. Since moving to Glacier I have been inundated with "calling each thing by its proper name". Wildflowers, wildlife, trees. I love it.
Western Larch are some of my favorite around the park; their chunky bark, stately trunks, juxtaposed against very small needles. Giant western red cedar and western hemlock also grace the old growth of the McDonald Creek valley. Ferns, moss and others blanket the dark deep damp forest floor... plants I adored and knew nothing about while hiking the AT... especially in New England. Here, in this crisp western air, it seems everyone is begging to learn. I love it.
I imagine lynx and mountain lion crouched in the undergrowth, feet from where I stand. I imagine pine marten and fishers scampering through the canopy hunting squirrels and birds. I am beginning to pick up on bird songs - the high trill of a thrush. A bald eagle has hovered over field camp at least twice in the past 4 days. I finally spotted Harlequin ducks in McDonald Creek this afternoon - a variety of torrent duck that plays and surfs rushing whitewater mountain streams.

In other wildlife news- Hillary and I went dancing at The Blue Moon last night. A cowboy bar 20 minutes drive from where we live. I watched in awe as young and old two stepped etc wearing everything from snap shirts to straw wedges and motorcycle regalia. Our first dancing partner was an overzealous cowboy in tight wranglers and a University of Montana T shirt. Either he was too drunk or too excited to care how Hillary or I could follow his lead. He scooped me up on a fast song and attempted fancy footwork and spins as I fumbled around... I was feeling pretty rotten about all my ballroom experience until I watched him go round with Hillary on a slow song- same story- guy's got no rhythm... We met a very nice old man named Dino in a SICK NASTY snap shirt. He bestowed old man knowledge about love, marriage, youth... and he was a much better dancer. After making friends with the band they surprised me by playing "Country Roads" , which H and I had a girl jam out to.
Drew just got home from rafting the North Fork... gotta go catch up with him.

Snail Mail

2009-06-23T14:27:00.000-04:00

Hey everyone, just a quick post to let ya'll know my address in case you ever want to send some P.O. love!
Rebekah McDonald
PO Box 527
West Glacier MT 59936
Look forward to hearing from you =)

Call of the Wild

2009-06-22T00:43:00.000-04:00

Sulking with the mean reds I traipsed out of field camp tonight. Gi Gi's folks are visiting from New Jersey. She and Paul made them a beautiful, delicious meal of red meat, grilled veggies, and tates. They invited Drew and I to join them, long taper candles lit and stuck in a sand bucket, with jazz playing in the background. Drew radiated excitement from his weekend trip to Many Glacier and the east side of the park, where he saw 5 black bear, 3 grizzlies, a fox, a coyote, I forget what else... probably a moose.
Excited, and amused at how much his being just - oozed - enthusiasm I watched and listened to him with glistening eyes... for awhile. And then the fatigue from my past two days of work (including about 6 hours of driving a 15 passenger van down washboard pot-holed dirt roads at about 20 mph) caught up with me. Listening to Drew, eating dinner with Paul and Gigi and their family I got to thinking my loon sightings, lion, wolf and bear scat findings and hundreds of wildflowers I saw- weren't enough. Not wanting to be a downer- I excused myself.
It is 11pm on the summer solstice, today, the longest day of the year, it has just turned totally dark. After excusing myself I snatched my trusty backpack, now suited for GNP instead of the AT with rain jacket, wildreness first aid kit, bear spray, binoculars, and map, and walked out of camp. I realized this evening I really miss walking - just being alone- on foot- in the middle of the woods with my thoughts, and everything else feral. So I walked down Drew and my fishing path, to the river, and wandered cobblestone and sandy islands and river banks, before setting up by a stump to watch the water, birds, clouds, mosquitoes.

No matter where you are, or what's going on in your life you are never immune to quiet inner loneliness- and here- in this remarkable place, in the midst of my very happy life- the past few days a quiet dreamy restless sadness has crept in.
Am I childish enough to sulk about not seeing wolves? An elusive controversial animal a man that worked in Glacier 36 years saw- less than five times. Do I miss Low and Bones and wish I could be with their Colorado trail expedition? Did I look at too many of my former roommate's wedding pictures? Or is all this talk of dogs just making me think far too much about my favorite dog- down in a kennel 5 hours away from me? I think it's that ridiculous book I'm reading about India...
Clouds grew dark and rippled with deep blue and grey, a little refreshed, or at least more grounded after reconnecting with Susanna I worked my way back upstream, in the margin of damp bank. Just before my creek crossing to mainland I caught a toad. Which is pretty special around here- seeing as how there are only 3 varieties of amphibians in GNP. Appalachian night echoed as a distant memory. Dewy dark walks down gravel roads in the USGS Pilot quadrangle. Bobcats, bullfrogs. Walking by faith, not sight.
Can I do that in Griz country? What is at risk here?
Uncertain, and too tired to work through that thought process- I kept my headlamp off - until I saw Drew's blinking red light emerge from his cabin. I flashed my light, walked up to his brilliant sweater and hat, chatted across his bike.
He cruised for a drink at Fida's. I came to talk to you.
And now, my dear. It's time for bed.

De Bugged?

2009-06-19T16:39:00.000-04:00

PHEW I may have worked through most of my technological difficulties. After purchasing a new wireless card and getting a new church buddy, Gavin, to streamline my computer. The Internet is slow, but steady at the Glacier View Golf Course. Our Internet at field camp is another story entirely... So I probably won't be online OFTEN, but hopefully more than I have been since March.
I've spent a lot of the past week growing roots in this area. I rearranged my cabin to a set up I'm really comfortable and content with, purchased a foam egg crate to make my bed sleepable, and even got some 4x6 pics printed up to stick on the wall. I'm working on putting animal tracks around my walls, hopefully in paint, so I can quiz myself with identifying local wildlife.
I'm surprising myself with this nesting business, but it makes me feel happy and more settled having a home base to adventure out of. Speaking of adventures, Drew and I are becoming enthusiastic fly fishing students, Hillary and I have been having quality girl time and adventures, and Gi Gi hooks me up with a kayak paddle every time we can sneek away to Lower McDonald Creek.
I haven't been writing or journaling much since Bones started hiking with me at the end of April. I think now that things are working into a better groove I'll pick that up. I have however been photographing a lot - which you can check out on the slide shows at the bottom of this page and top.
I'm assistant teaching my first class this weekend!!! Wolves!!! with Dave Shea, and his wife Vivi in the North Fork! SO excited about that.
Gi Gi has been helping me immensely trying to get Geronimo in a home nearby so I can see him. I'm hoping to bring him back to the West Glacier area on my way home from July 4 celebrations with Dacia! Please send some prayers up about that.
That's really all for now. Peep the pics, they're worth - millions?? of words ;)

Glaciated

2009-06-09T17:39:00.000-04:00

It has been three weeks since I left Virginia. Hmm... where to start this story...
In an effort to support and adhere to the "where ever you are, be all there" philosophy, I think I'll start here, in a library in Whitefish, Montana, and perhaps work backwards. Today is my first day off from my new job at the Glacier Institute Field Camp since our trainings started LAST Monday. Trying to take full advantage of my free time I slept til 9 today, ate a bagel, and went for a bike ride (18 miles maybe?) on Going to the Sun Road. GTSR is a face melting scenic drive that connects the west side of Glacier National Park to the East side. Every fall and winter it is covered with snow and ice, and every spring the park spends much money and man power to unearth it from avalanches etc. It usually is drivable again sometime in June. It is only open to vehicles about 18 miles deep into the West side (where I live) Today I biked past the car barrier, about 9 miles through glaciated mountains to the hiker/ biker barrier. It's a beautiful ride, past clear swift creeks turned milky turquoise and baby blue from the rock flour of snow melt, through avalanche chutes poignant with the smell of uprooted trees, dirt and rubble, wing upwards and through a geologists dream- layers of unique rock and natural forces. It makes my mind wander, and my belly feel nauseous with elevation gain. I stop for a drink and to consult my map, wanting desperately to learn this place, to love this place. It is no Virginia, Tinker Mountain is time zones away, but some wild part in my being has a hope I can someday feel at home in this scene, like I once did in the Appalachian's Blue Ridge. I hop back on my bike and cruise down hill, nervously pumping the brakes. Until... stop. A cat-size bear cub scampers across the road, followed by its Mom. I wait, then pass and stop again, watching. It runs back across the road to where it came. I wait. Momma crawls over the concrete road side, followed by two more cubs. It's awfully high up and rocky for black bear this time of year, but they seem about black bear size. I tell my boss when I get home to camp. He thinks it's grizzly. One Mom with 3 new cubs- Grizzly. Paul's jealous of the sighting, I write it on our dry erase board on the kitchen wall above GiGi's writing of "4 coyote pups and Momma", smile, and head to town in my cowboy boots.
It's 50 and rainy now, it's been chilly for about 10 days. It makes my heatless cabin and training rooms tough to tolerate, but I'm thankful I brought my down jacket to my summer job. I've been hiking, fly fishing, even got out in my kayak with GiGi (Paul's wife). Our field camp is a cozy set up, a small compound with cabins, a bathhouse, kitchen, and a tipi, all on the river. Myself, my 4 co workers, and the wilderness EMT group staying with us until next weekend all seem extremely content in the personal space, and out communal areas.
After a month on the A.T. and two weeks on the road (and everything else the last year) I feel the more settled than ever since leaving my apartment at Allendale April 2008.
The drive west was a brilliant exploration or the northeast, Midwest, and northern Rockies, taking me all the way to British Columbia before scooping back south to Glacier.
I'm working through some logistical and technical bugs with my computer and camera situation, and the library comp timer is blinking at me. I'll try to update more soon, sorry communication has been so sparse.
Know that I am in a beautiful, restful, wild place. Treasuring the verse where God brings you to spacious place beside cool clean waters.
Miss and love you =*

This is how the story ends. Or perhaps begins?

2009-05-11T13:18:00.000-04:00

I started dreaming about a long walk from Georgia to Maine as a high school cross country runner. I picked college at Emory & Henry because of its proximity to Damascus. Graduating from Montana, I returned east, hoping to reconnect with friends and family, and finally hike the AT. Befriending Hasty had a profound effect on embracing the idea of a thru hike as a reality, and by the time I walked out of Daleville May 15, 2008 I was nervous, excited, and looking to understand the meaning of "home".
Many of you have been part of this journey since then, you know the hardship, awe, humility, and adventure I've found along the way. A lot of folks hike long distances to prove self sufficiency, for the record- that was never my intention, and I could never tell you all enough how much I have loved and needed you to be part of this journey.
My life since returning to the Appalachian Trail has been overflowing with adventure and surprises- and I'm sorry for not keeping more up to date on here- but sometimes I find myself too busy throwing up my hands and living to self-reflect.
The first two weeks out were a surprise of snow and friendship with 2009 northbounders. We all bonded in the 2 feet of powder dumped in the Smokies, and until Erwin I traveled, sang, and laughed with Jeremiah Johnson. From Erwin to Damascus VA I shifted gears and traveling companions to the fascinating Wendy, and charming Hellbender. We sampled native vegetation and rapped silly rhymes, walking through fog and rain and sketchy hikers, and hilarious monopoly players. By the time I walked across the Virginia border my heart was scattered and full about being back in VA and 135 miles from wrapping up this journey.
The plan was to jump up to Bland and walk back to Daleville. Mom and Dixie drove to Damascus to bring Geronimo. I was a bit sullen about having to finish the journey alone - but knew- I gotsta what I gotsta- and after all- this whole crazy journey is- my own.
THEN Bones showed up- after hitch hiking for two days from Hot Springs to finish this hike with me. AND Jeremiah Johnson got into town after hiking in five days what took me seven. Then I found Hellbender and Wendy. As it turned out, everyone I adore that is on the trail this year was in Damascus at the same time, such beauty and joy as we took pictures, hugged, and drove away singing to the ukulele I cannot find words to describe.
Bones, Geronimo and I hiked out of Bland around 10 pm, and crashed out to sleep at the first available camping spot. The next few days revolved around shifting our hiking to accommodate our new fellowship and the harsh sun unfiltered by barely budding trees. We took long afternoon breaks; 4 hour swimming at a waterfall, eating frozen lemonadeat a country grocery stores, and napping in the shade. After a few days the rains came, and stayed for the rest of our hike. By the end we were just pushing to wrap this up.
Finishing a journey that has consumed my emotional, physical, geographic, and spiritual location and health for the past year is (as everything with the Appalachian Trail) mixed, beautiful, and surprising. I always thought completing this 2,175 mile walk would be invigorating, that I would be amped up beyond any espresso shot I'd ever had. In reality- my entire last day a peaceful excitment consumed me. The last familiar miles of my hike were more like heart beats, pulses, of my childhood than "thru hiking". Friends, landscape, laughter, tears, so many moments across this terrain scattered, replaying, culminating, but in no way ENDING with the last miles of this thru hike. Perhaps I still have not grasped the scope of what I've done, but I felt like a hobbit returning to the Shire. Knowing now that home is fluid, but passionately connecting with THIS place all the same. I sent Bones to Tinker Creek to wait while I hiked across Tinker Ridge and descended the mountain alone. I thought about cross country, and my favorite running buddies; Susanna and Carrie. All the love that has fostered and found me in this place. I nearly cried, but was so tired and excited the tears could not surface. I came to Tinker to find Bones in a plastic lawn chair playing "eye of the tiger" on his ukulele, dedicated to me =)
Bones, Geronimo, and I walked into Daleville around 6pm Cinco de Mayo. Sarah drove us to my parents house, and before we knew it, we were clean, happy, and drunk at the Mexican restaurant with old and new friends. Since then we've been bumming around my folks' catching up with tasks and people, and scheming for our drive to Montana (which starts Sunday May 17).
So the chapter has closed, but the first pages of the current, this new chapter are pretty alluring. Stay tuned for details =)
Trails Days May 15-17
Drive to Montana summer job May 17-28
Montana summer job May 29-Aug 31
then???? God only knows =)

Erwin TN !!! (a long time coming)

2009-04-18T08:59:00.000-04:00

I am in Erwin Tennessee. Jeremiah Johnson and I have pushed hard, big mile days for nearly two weeks to get here Friday to meet his friend. My left knee is bothering me a bit, but I am taking a day off from hiking today to rest and hang out. I went absolutely huge last night and slept in a king size bed at Holiday Inn Express (thanks grandpa!) and JJ's friend Rex even drove us to Johnson City for dinner! A broccoli Cheese, butter, sour cream baked potato and bbq baked beans went down well as the waitresses cruised around in Firehouse- ish suspenders. The miles and smiles are coming quicker and easier than I could have hoped. All seems well with the dream of a Daleville return before May 15.
After leaving Holiday Inn Express JJ and Rex dropped me back at Uncle Johnny's Hostel. Joe Kick Ass and his girlfriend are graciously grillin up burgers, and hot dogs along with other snacks (candy bars, cookies, chips, cole slaw, beer etc) as some amazing trail magic. The crew I was hiking around in the Smokies have caught back up; Truckin, Wendy, St. Patty's etc, and an afternoon of food and fiends in the sunshine makes me feel like perhaps, finally, the AT is as it should be.
My cornrows are still holiding up. It's strange to be in town showering, but not washing my hair. Dancruff is definately setting in, but having them tight, reasonaly snag free, and hair out of my face seems worthwhile to keep them in longer. As long as bugs don't stat crawling around.... I should be set to keep my hair up till.... dare I saw Daleville?
I beleive the count down is 260 more miles from Erwin-Damascus + Bland- Daleville. I can scarce believe I'm so close to finishing this journey, but as always, am embracing and accepting the principle of not counting my chickens before they hatch.
Low and his girlfriend Erin sent me an incredible Easter- themeed goodie box to Standing Bear Hostel. In his card he said "when it don't come easy, pray for strength, and when it does- ask for humility". I keep thinking of that, journeys coming full circle, and the most exciting part being just around the river bend.
I used to think Erwin would be bittersweet and sad for me, it being one of my first trail towns visited during Hasty's 2007 hike. As it turns out, that is a pale memory to the vivid dream I'm currently living.
Life is lovely, companionship is fufilling and delightful, the music is jamming, and the weather is brilliant. Happy and grateful, I couldn't ask for more =)

A walk in the park?

2009-04-08T23:24:00.001-04:00

WHOEVER made up that saying in reference to Great Smokey Mountain National Park was off hteir rocker! I've been having a great time back on the AT. It all started with a static-y but fulfilling and surprising roa trip with Maggie and MAtt to Fontana Dam. (pics to come later). Cowboy camped under gorgeous stars an hiked on a buggy warm day the next day. Monday snow started, Tuesday snowed all day. I'm making good time and miles - all things considered. But all thingings considered I traveresed the highest peak on the AT today and cruised 12 ish miles in 2 feet of snow. It's goot to be in Gatlinburg tonight, warm, with new friends! More to come later! Gotta get some sleep and hike again tommorrow. Pushing hard to get out of these high elevations and get my easter candy CRAB Low and Erin mailed to Standing Bear!!!

Ready?

2009-03-31T10:43:00.001-04:00

Low says to me from Massachusetts "I hope you are aware of how crazy your life will be starting Saturday until at least the end of August" ... I smile from a warm early spring evening 14 hours south in Virginia. Yeah, I know, I think I'm ready.
Hot Cheese is in Mass too. I am becoming increasingly cognisant of the fact that a core group of supportive adventure partners are from or living in Mass. I remember my original smitten ness with Henry David Thoreau... and start to think... hey... maybe I should live near Mass one day. Anyways Hot Cheese tells me she's proud of my decisions and would probably make similar ones if she went back 5, 10 years with hindsight. I remind her of where her path has led her, how awesome her new husband Birdbath is, and we decide on the thought that each person's path leads them just where it ought.
During a campfire worship circle with my high school age youth group I talked about timing and paths. There have been many moments, opportunities, and relationships in my life that have seemed right... if only the timing was better. It hit me Thursday how right all of this is, what Bones and Low have known all winter... Tom Dunford (my great friend and trail Angel from Burkes Garden) was driving Luke, me, and Geronimo to where I skied off the trail in November. I watched in careful awe at the greening landscape springing, winding before me. Rain drizzled, the road twisted. When last on this road it was dark and snowy out the windows of Fischa's Volvo. Some very loud classical music billowed from a symphony through his car speakers. I emerged from my thoughts and daydreams with familiar love and recognition - he was playing Claire de Lune - my favorite song of all time.
I ardently believe God plants seeds and whether we participate or not, ,finds a way to nurture them. How was I to know back in November when checking my blog after my AT withdrawal Tom would see that song, remember it, and use it. I believe in signs. I think everyone needs sources or encouragement. As last week unfolded with Claire de Lune, a rainy 8 mile night hike very reminiscent of my Katahdin descent, 12 miles the next day in five hours... clouds dispersing through the valley in much the same way as my last days in North Carolina, the clouds distorting the truth and being of my life also seemed to disperse, and lift.
It is spring. The days will only get longer. The Earth will only get warmer. And you, you, will do what you were always going to do - spend a year journeying through yourself and Appalachia. Seek companions and your God. Return, return to Montana.
Am I prepared? Am I ready?
My heart and head cartwheel. But Low and Bones don't...apparently they've known all of this all along, and while I've been stressed in a darkened existence, like an ostrich with my head in the sand, since November they have been anxiously and excitedly awaiting this season.
It isn't Springer Fever.
It's just Spring, perhaps a fever, and like the Christopher Walken SNL sketch... the only prescription is more cowbell.

Cartwheels.

2009-03-30T23:26:00.000-04:00

I obsessively check my phone, email etc to hear from people. Perhaps this is a nervous habit developed from a winter of waiting for life to paddle out of my eddy and into the current. It seems even now, as the current slowly picks up and river swells I am still in search mode. Is it excitement? habit? addiction? Perhaps somewhere in between.
I am trying as best I can to savor my last remnants of winter around Daleville. I have been spending as much time as humanly feasible with friends, family, working, and getting my stuff together for- the leaving.
The best possible way I can explain this anticipation is cartwheels. At any given moment almost every day I feel it absolutely necessary and appropriate to throw my arms up, tumble towards the ground, kick my feet over my head, and land right side up... blood rushing from myhead back to my feet. To prove my world can go upside down and land right side up? Because I've always loved that song by the Pixies "with your feet in the air and your head on the ground" ? Or because my Alice in Wonderland fetish draws me toward a world full of cheshire cat like nonsense? I don't know... but cartwheels... that's just what I'm working with =)
Last week I had a great portrait session with a high school senior, returned to the spot of my snowy Nov AT exit, and introduced my youth group to Alta Mons. A really great week overall, and an exciting preview for the adventures to come starting Saturday.
I don't have a lot to say right now, but just wanted to update that Bound has warmed up, and is getting mark, set, GO for Spring / Summer Epic ness!

Window- OPEN

2009-03-13T15:26:00.000-04:00

Winter and directionless has finally broke!

April 4 return to Fontana Dam, walk north on the AT to Damascus, drive to Bland, walk to Daleville by
May 15 Trailaversary (day I started this whole journey 2008)
May 16ish Trail Days in Damascus VA with many close friends from my Daleville-Katahdin stretch, including Low and Bones!!! just in time to grab Bones and
May 18 ish start the epic westward drive to Montana (with a few stops in between naturally)
May 29- end o August Work and live in Glacier National Park for the Glacier Institute Field Camp

Only two huge questions linger:
Who will keep Geronimo May 29- late August?
Where will I work after Glacier Institute?

Many thanks to all of you for your constant love support and prayers (especailly my extended family, The Botetourt Commons community, and my PENMAR FAMILY!!!). If you have suggestions as to the answer of my lingering questions ideas are mucho appreciated!

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

2009-03-07T23:10:00.000-05:00

Time seems shifting to those who are waiting. As my life has little structure or markers right now I have little reference to what makes a day, a week, a month. This isn't new, walking the Appalachian Trail morphs time too, but in a more grounded biological way. Here lately moments linger in my mind.
I have had two brilliant interviews with two amazing companies in Montana for summer positions since January. I have job searched nearly every day since I November withdrawal from the AT. Sometimes I search for immediate jobs in Virginia, sometimes I search for more long term positions in Montana. I comb classifieds, environmental job boards, informational newsletters, searching, wanting, waiting on something.
These two positions are the best I've found. Both in western Montana, a place my heart has ardently longed for since this summer. It's funny, sometimes you just want things, other times you have innate gut feeling that IS what's to be. It's not to say I am tired or resentful of Virginia. I have and always will love it here.
I spent the afternoon walking brick sidewalks laid before William Clark journeyed down the Missouri River with my best childhood friend (walking w my friend, sorry to say she didn't kick it w WC). We laughed about past and present while swinging at an elementary school playground. Afterwards we piled in my car to get the best Sno Cones in the universe, only to find the Sno Shack closed, and settle for iced coffee and a smoothie from the new doughnut shack. Yesterday I met another life long friend in the middle of a country road both on our bikes, she left her parents, I left mine, we met in the middle 'neath that old Georgia pine... (that's a song reference we didn't really meet under a pine, but nonetheless once together we biked around for awhile). Life and love are beautiful in Virginia. But I strongly feel, it is time.
I have two plans right now. Both are a financial stretch but faith is going out on a limb... right?
Plan A (if MT comes through): work here until April when I return to Fontana on the AT, walk back to Daleville by May 15, catch up with friends at trail days, drive to Montana with Geronimo and Bones for sidekicks, and start working there beginning of June
Plan B (MT job rejection): work here until mid June when I return to Fontana on the AT, walk back to Daleville for however long it takes, back to the grinding stone on a job search (Missoula / MT focused by the fall)
For reasons inexplicable via this medium I desperately hope for Plan A, and those that hope are not put to shame... right? Regardless any prayers would be mucho appreciated. I should here in the next 7 days which path will illuminate.
I've been thinking about that a lot lately, paths and illumination. The bible says thy word is lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. Scriptures like this constantly find their way to my fingers, eyes, and heart. I spent half of last week labored on hiking trails at the camp I love. A methodical mind and body consuming task that enraptured me with purpose and joy. I found myself laughing to Geronimo "okay God, teach me about paths, literally and metaphorically, I'm here, tell me what you will, just please, please, send me a light".
While I wait it seems fate has humorous tests for me. I spent the last half of this week nearly crippled and immobile with back pain. I have the great fortune to have a Dad who has coped with acne, receding gums, and back pain the majority of his life... genetics... what a beautiful thing. Normally I tough out pain or sicknesses, but as someone too poor to have health insurance and too busy to say no to jobs if sick I have been popping pills like no body's business. I'm happy to say that the back pain died down last night which is fortunate because I awoke this morning with a very goopy eye. Sorry to say my dad, the pharmacist, deemed it pink eye, and as the day progressed I'm thinking it is in both eyes. Alas, more pills. I won't go into how sick the preschool class I subbed for Friday was... but I wouldn't be surprised if those germy sick kids were the ones to infect me.
It's not all doom and gloom however. I has been about 60 degrees here the past 3 days. Tomorrow I plan to lead my youth group over the section of the AT my brother started about a year ago; apple orchard mountain, the guillotine, and Thunder Ridge. And if that wasn't good enough my brilliant friend Issac plans to come along too!
So I should get some sleep. Low's much anticipated daylight savings will rob me of an hour, small price to pay for the hope, light and joy of ... SPRING =)

"When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window. ..."~SoM

Don't panic

2009-02-10T12:34:00.000-05:00

Bones sinkin like stones all that we fought for. Homes places we've grown, all of us are done for...
We live in a beautiful world, yea we do, yea we do.

Last week I spent 3 out of 6 days walking a path you call the Appalachian Trail. That is its official name, sure, but I'm beginning to wonder if that is a sort of- scientific name. Perhaps the A.T is its common name. But even still, some of us have nicknames for objects we are intimate with, animals, people. Our names for these things surpass science and common, these names stem out of the intimate fondness, affection, reverence, humbleness, and sometimes anger, otherwise known as love. I am not sure what to refer to this path as anymore. It has become something bigger and more profound than I can conceive.

Day 1. Bethany agreed to hike MacAfee's Knob on a freakishly warm afternoon. She is not much of a hiker, but nonetheless crawled into my car wearing a tank top and yoga pants, purse, bag, water, and Georgia Tech long sleeve T in tow. Heidi and Geronimo tagged along too. We laughed and meandered down the fire road, then the AT. Bethany has been my friend, occasionally enemy, since 2nd grade. We talk about boys, jobs, family, dreams. We say ridiculous freakish things that we would censor in other company. I am so happy to have her in this, my world, of sorts. We break under a power line to let a young glowing couple pass us, and a trail runner with his backpack wearing - tail uncropped- larger than Geronimo weimaraner. It is a short hike (for me, probably endless for her), but we snack on OCPs (oatmeal cream pies) hummus, crackers, cheese, like I'm in the middle of a 15-20 mile day. The dogs get jumbo chewy snack bones. We rise refreshed, and walk the last hardest bit, weaving through huge boulders to the much photographed, always beautiful overlook. By now what started as a 60 degree day has turned windy, damp, with temperatures dropping. We anticipate looming grey clouds working thru the Catawba Valley towards us. I put on my hooded softshell Santa brought that I have become (in true gear junkie style) smitten with. I loan her my mittens and hat. We descend faster. I have been nervous it may rain. I had decided to defy it, defy that fear, venture outside anyway. The fear of weather ; understandable, irrational, a helpless fear. Well. Our final half of the fire road was in snow. Perfect beautiful huge flaky snow. Cold and wind burnt there was nothing to do but smile and laugh - FINALLY.

Day 2. I went to my pre AT home, Allendale, to pick up my black and white photographs from the "Star City Project" . These images were part of the FIRST public showing of my photography, an entire coffee shop with about 20 some matted framed prints - beautiful. Anyway there's another gallery I'm trying to get them into and needed to pick them up from my friend and neighbor (I stashed them in her place instead of storing them before leaving to hike). So I carefully wrapped the frames in blankets, put them in a box, and stayed for hours talking to Sheri and my old landlord. Two guys moved into my apartment last week. Geronimo tried to go in, as if to think, HEY we're home finally!!! Part me thought that too, but I didn't press for the opportunity to walk/look around. "Leave it" I thought, "let it be". So eventually Mo and I left, I wanted to take the long way back to my parents. I drove through Salem to park and walk the ridge south of the 311 parking lot. We just went to the first overlook. It was getting late, Ben (my brother) was on his way home for the weekend, and really I just went to wonder. I let my mind and heart wonder. wander. I asked big questions. Studied this landscape. The drive was soaked in warm red winter sunset light. I rolled the windows down.

Day 3. I woke up KNOWING this would be my day to climb Dragon's Tooth. I put a roll of infrared film (that I bought in Missoula in college) in my 35mm camera just before New Year's. I started that roll on the Tinker Cliffs, shot it at MAK, and really wanted to triple crown it, with DT (the three popular highlights of the Appalachian Trail in this area). It was another beautiful sunny day, and despite it being a Saturday, and my loathing of how crowded it might be, I knew TODAY must be the day. I pestered my family. Hopped in my brother's bed to wake him up, get him in on the adventure. He's a big climber and (because of me and Alta Mons) loves the woods. I thought, YEAH how could he NOT come to Dragon's Tooth?! He had safer, more ordinary plans with Dad though - haircut- golf. He said no. Dad was also busy being ordinary, and turns out my Mom was busy keeping things in order on her one day off from a job and church. I threw a bit of a depressed rejected tantrum, took a breath, put myself together, grabbed Mo's jacket and hit the road. I can't explain this hike to you. This hike was intimate and personal. I continued my questions from Day 2, I reverted to my thru hike mode, quick steady methodical movement. Heart. Body. Feet. Dirt. Sky. Water. Pulse. I must have passed 20 people in the hour it took to get to the top. Once there I slipped my climbing shoes on and played around. I finished my roll of film. I read scripture. I sat upright, on the rock pinnacle, noticing the southern valley for the first time. A quiet calm anxious wisdom came, and I knew something would happen. It did. But instead of being rattled, spiraling out of control, and falling apart like I might've predicted I simply photographed more, wrapped up the walk, slipped into flip flops, and drove to the library to get Eat Pray Love on CD (I've been meaning to read that!). My family met at the Homeplace for my sister's birthday dinner. I scarfed down food, but remained mostly quiet.

These experiences have served as a catalyst of further prayer and mediation. I have a hopeful excited faith this week will bring a directional answer as to where MY path will lead the next months.

I've heard if you take a domestic pig and drop it in the woods it only takes a matter of weeks for it to return to a primal feral state. Pretty impressive I think, but I have noticed my threshold of "how long can you be outside before you become wild again" is dramatically shorter. Moments. It only takes me moments of a breeze on my face, into my nostrils, before it is permeating back through my pores; wild. Is it because I am that or want that? Is it because beauty reflects and attracts beauty? Is it possible that this landscape and natural world is so grand and overpowering that it transforms me?

Lastly, I was late to church so I decided to do something different, take this spirituality and make it personal. I sat alone in a quiet dark room where I could hear the worship but see nothing. The hymns were about grace and spirit. The sermon was about what to do when our bubble bursts. The preacher talked about this looming- dare we say- depression the US is spiraling into. My practical side was annoyed with contempt to be job searching in the worst economy of my life. But my dreaming side - was excited. For the same reason my friend Low was excited about a devastating New England ice storm. Something you may not agree with, that I can only explain as - out of deep tragedy, hopelessness, poverty, disillusionment, and darkness something pure simple and real arises. Something that I have learned is the essence of what to strive for during our time on this planet. My time on the AT echoes these principles, but that was chosen. Many people will never CHOOSE to live a life like this. But as it turns out- something else may have chosen for us. Because nation-wide economic depression seems to be settling in, just like a New England ice storm. The sermon continued until this preacher said something -

Bound together we can survive.

everybody here's got somebody to lean on

just like Coldplay said...

Winter like that can change your life...

2009-01-27T23:49:00.000-05:00

Misty damp night lingers through Botetourt. Molly purrs on the bed next to my ear. I'm sitting in the laundry basket full of dirty clothes under my window. I open it; immediate access to what high school friends call my "fairytale world". The darkness is warmer than you might imagine. Horses beat heavy hoofs against a landscape covered in ice. Amanda meows in the hallway. I let her in the room too. The cats have lived together more than eight years and don't like each other. They live outside, but I let them both in the house, and my room (I'm a sucker). It's impressive really- for not liking each other they manage to purr in unison; Molly now on the carpet below my laundry basket, Amanda in my right ear. Appalachian night to my left.
One of the things I love most about my bed is that I can lay on my back and see the stars. Moon and star gazing is crucial to me and in the winter that view from the comfort of a queen size pillow-top mattress is next to unbeatable... until I open this box of a house to the great outdoors.
Most of my October was spent in the smoke and haze of damp southern Appalachia. Tonight is like those days and nights on the trail.
Poor Virginia.
Botetourt has made futile attempts to represent our season. The winter weather advisories local news anchors have fretted over have only manifested to this so far - less than an inch of ice. No snow since I got off the AT near Bland.
Another manifestation: no cars on the road. A few halogen windows glow from neighbors' plots. There is no speed. There is no agenda. Etzler has slowed to a foot and sleep pace. Glen's horses run and I think about Grayson's wild ponies.
Acoustic twinges out of laptop speakers, songs from a brief affair summer 2006. I think about beating my heart soul and body up and down stairs; four flights of Brazilian Mission. Thirteen? fifteen? times up and down. I remember the music, tears, and longing more than the count. "Is it wrong to not hold on if nothing ever lasts?" my speakers ask.
I lost my passport, and consequently my five year Brazilian visa when I moved out of Allendale. I need to replace it, life without a passport is just not how I want to live =)
This time last year I bathed in a 1920's porcelain tub to counter act the cold of an apartment without heat. I miss that bathtub more than the tiny kitchen where you couldn't open a cupboard, oven, fridge, or backdoor at the same time. I miss it more than the fan that brought Geverstraminer into my life, more than oreos/ Sex and the City/ couch time with Ang.
The chill slick coating slightly shimmering under night's mist brings me back to the ice storm at Emory and Henry freshman year of college. Campus power crashed, and my group of friends skated down 1800 brick sidewalks to the waterhouse to celebrate the first cancellation of classes since Pearl Harbor.
Ice. Glisten. Silent night...
Point? there isn't much of one. Just thoughts.
But I'm wondering, remembering, how much these states of water shape the memories replaying on the midnight of my mind.

'I Galapa. I magic-man. I wizard-man! I sing you to me.'

2009-01-24T19:27:00.000-05:00

I took a position as interim youth director January 8. The pay is small, transition rocky, and self-questioning immense. I've had two official meetings with a group of 4or less high school students.
The pastor of this church calls my life, the AT, shoot probably everything I'm about right now my "walkabout". Those of you who saw Australia know where I'm going with this. Those of you who haven't- should. (see the movie that is). Humor me. Google it. Wikipedia will tell you
Walkabout refers to a rite of passage where Australian Aborigines would undergo a journey during adolescence and live in the wilderness for a period as long as six months.[1] In this practice they would trace the paths, or "songlines", that their people's ceremonial ancestors took, and imitate, in a fashion, their heroic deeds. Merriam-Webster, however, defines the noun as a 1908 coinage that refers primarily to "a short period of wandering bush life engaged in by an Australian aborigine as an occasional interruption of regular work", with the only mention of "spiritual journey" coming in a usage example from a latter-day travel writer.
He never says hike, walk, AT, journey. He says walkabout. He doesn't dwell on my unassuredness of what life may bring the next hours, days, weeks, months. He seems amused, and perhaps in a small way, delighted.
Sometimes I wonder if God has revealed something to him I've been left out of the loop on.
I read something in my Esther bible study today. I was sitting in a comfy arm chair in the church lobby. It was after I spilt my "choffee" all over everything, before a church member cornered me with another idea/ task. Beth Moore basically said the Devil takes delight in replacing our potential for joy and content with stress and worry.
Light bulb.
Let's save you and me both from the wordiness of fleshing out details of applying this to my life. Sufficient to say I've been hugely stressed and barely joyful lately.
A day away from the house afforded me fresh perspective on a full but hungry plate I juggle : youth director, freelanced wrestling pictures, studding Geronimo, census tests, Glacier Institute, Center for Structural & Functional Neuroscience Program Coord.
Lonely, but eyes starry I've made it through another day.
Somehow I am sick of AT lingo, sick of wanting and not knowing, sick of feeling sad.
Hike your own hike?
or just... walkabout.

~ some of you no doubt have opinions as to what I should do with the remaining 440 miles of my AT journey. some of you find me edgy about this topic.One of my favorite restaurants in Missoula is Food For Thought.~ Consider:

It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
(DR lyrics)

Sometimes walkabout spans something larger than you intended it. Rivers wind. I'm just flowing.

=*

Left Behind

2009-01-18T00:31:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting on my Grandmother's couch drinking tea. The tea-before-bed-thing started my last summer at Alta Mons. With cicadas, friends, bobcats, and a hint of romance in the damp Appalachian night, tea was the claire de lune of the day. This couch sat in at least three of my grandmother's houses I can think of. The house has sold, she's passed on; a sleeper sofa, birthstone ring, and more memories than I can count are left to me.

Life twists and turns in ways we never imagine. Going through my bible study on Esther tonight I found myself amazed at Persian custom and wondering what she did during her "one night with the king" to "find favor in his eyes". It was hard for me not to think about the obvious implications of this sleep over. My bible study asks me to write a paragraph in Esther's diary after her first day as queen, feasts in her honor, and being tucked in by a maidservant... I scribble "how did my life come to this? what now?"

I read it back to myself- realizing I'm not writing in Esther's diary, maybe I'm just writing in my own.

I wonder if I'd read the story different if I didn't feel estranged spiritually. I wonder if I'd read the story different if I was coming from a wholesome romantic background. Last week's major point (for me anyway) "you cannot amputate your past from your purpose". As Low would say - food for thought- I'll help with the dishes (although I'm still not sure what that last part means).

I've found a couple of promising job opportunities this week. My bank account grows hungrier and bleaker and I try to fight the urge of depressed acceptance of my current circumstances.

Phew. I wrapped up the fourth out of five days of bible study homework. I flip through scripture instead of calling someone I love who will not find me.
Tea, I think.
I drink, hold, smell a comfort and wholesomeness of a once vibrant moving yet steadfast life. I wonder if God will use these mementos of a life left behind as instruments I always needed to fulfill my purpose. Curious about the orphan exile he made a queen, do I ask or hope I get a glorious transformation too.

Hmmm.

For now- the best thing I can come up with is to drink tea. Perhaps the rest falls into place?

You're at your best when you got the guns turned 180 degrees.

2009-01-13T00:57:00.001-05:00

I'm finding out if it all adds up right...

=)

2009-01-07T20:33:00.000-05:00

To those of you who actually read this:
Thanks for caring and believing in me. Your thoughts and support are strength and comfort.
Two jobs have been applied to, more are in the works...
I'm jamming out to Ryan Adams thinking
I ADORE the harmonica

Life turns out alright if you paddle when you need to, right?

Balance Games

2009-01-05T14:07:00.001-05:00

Dark blue-grey clouds patch work themselves over a diffused sun. I hear the heat wave is coming to a close and by this evening rain and sleet will settle in. I'm in a wicker rocking chair on a wrap around front porch. Grey paint chips from the boards beneath my feet, Geronimo and Heidi sniff around the yard. A chill sets deeper than my middle school gym shorts and high school track sweatshirt have protected me against. The air is moist.

I listen to Lauryn Hill; because I need to get my groove back and it reminds me of Camp Brown Bag. In Desert Solitaire Edward Abbey builds an outdoor living space beside his park service house trailer. I'm brainstorming constructing a similar structure here. Life at this house is safe, comfortable, and full of the latest greatest modern distractions... I mean.. conveniences. Memories, dreams, desires of a life of travel and exploration float to the pinnacle of my consciousness like a bloated body thrown overboard.

More time than I can justify has been spent in front of some variety of LCD screen; job hunting, Wii Fit, Email, TV. The most redeeming factor of this intermission of quiet financially grueling restlessness has been the time I've spent with my family. I try not to think much about them returning to their jobs, schooling, normal life after the holiday. Mostly because this holiday has become my normal life.

Even too much of a good thing can be harmful? Even water, my Dad says. Even a holiday, I say. My goal for the week: find and apply to a handful of jobs I'm very serious about and interested in. My goal was to winter in Botetourt, return to the AT (Fontana-Daleville)) in the spring, head west by the end of May. If I don't find enough work in the next few months an AT return will not happen in 2009. College is spent working towards graduation. Post college I've spent working towards the AT. The next chapter is turning, and I've GOT to find a goal to propel forward motion. My eddy out has become stagnant. Where's the current?

If only finding life and inner balance was as straight forward as Wii Fit Balance Games.

Sugar Plum Fairies

2008-12-24T20:24:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting in a chair built for someone under the age of 10. It puts me at the right height for my homemade closet door/ kayak stand table I've been working on (although my knees don't fit under it). I have the internet on this laptop and my cousin's high school senior portraits I'm editing on my barely functional laptop beside this one. December wind blows by the window on a dark cold Etzler Road. Brett Dennen's Ain't Gonna Lose you croons from these speakers, The Nutcracker hums under Photoshop, Ani Difranco's Grey pulses in my heart. I am currently some mix of the three.
Every silver lining's got a ... touch of grey. Life needs both, right? Silver. Grey. The mid-tones to a rare occurrence; black and white. I've been feeling kindred with a brisk /slow shuffled beat of urban grey landscapes where pedestrians' breath resembles car exhaust. A place with rosy cheeks, chapped lips, coffee, and scarves.
I'm wondering if it's part of my pendulum; if months of green, dirt, water pulsing is swinging me to the other side; fashion, people, pavement. There's a sign at Neel's Gap, the first hostel north of Georgia on the Appalachian Trail, that says "Wherever you are, be all there".
As beautiful and dear as Botetourt county will always be I am restless in a childhood bedroom with no definitive map for the next bit of my journey. I'm trying to conjure the strength and perspective to not settle in any area of my life. I'm trying to work hard enough to afford spreading my wings under a warm spring sun.
Christmas feels more grey than silver. I finished the Chronicles of Narnia in November. I've been thinking a lot about the last book, where the friends of Narnia walk through the stable, through a brightly lit door, only to find all this time they've been living in a pale reflection of the "true narnia". I'm working on that motion.
I have a vague memory of warm hearts, sparkling long nights, magic. Although it seems far away, it's worth fighting for, so slowly and surely I hope to make my way back.
I hope you have all those things through the holidays; warmth, a sense of belonging, tasty sweets, glittering hope and light in a dark time.
Merry Christmas.

THANKS!!!

2008-11-24T11:39:00.000-05:00

I'm in the Daleville VA area rambling with good friends and catching up with my family. Hopefully I'll get a job soon and nestle in for the winter. I'm planning to work, save money, then get back to Fontana Dam sometime in March or April and wrap up this AT traverse. I miss living outside but it's kind of nice to wake up in a queen size pillowtop bed, under a down comforter and quilt made by my great grandmother, roll over, and see the snow falling through the window on the Appalachians. Geronimo is happy with life now too. We both hike and ramble a lot but spend a significant amount of time being couch potatoes. I set out on the AT hoping to hike the whole thing by Thanksgiving, which is also my birthday this year. When I was in Georgia and realized that wasn't going to happen I had to reevaluate my journey and philosophy. This shifting of heart and mind was pretty hard for about a month. I am at peace, even in happy awe with how things are shaping up. Despite them constantly turning down unexpected avenues they've all been beautiful, shaping, with good stories, so for now I say - bring it. I may not have walked the whole AT before turning 24 BUT as it is I may get to live AT life more or less for 12 months instead of 5-6. AND I get to travel to Keyser WV to be with my extended family for Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday of all time. So during this holiday season I wish you the best of times, most unexpected times, and beautiful wild stories to last- a lifetime =)

S N O W

2008-11-20T11:25:00.000-05:00

All went pretty well on my way down to Atkins. Luke was stellar company for the drive and great to catch up with. I unloaded me and Geronimo, Luke said glad it's you and not me, and we were off. It was freezing and snow flurrying when I walked under 81 but I figured it's November, Virginia, won't be a big deal. Snowed all night, I got 14 miles in btw 1-7 to the second shelter (the first one no longer exists). I actually crossed paths with about 3 SOBOs, I wanted to tell them they were crazy, but the look in our eyes said we both already knew that. I was feeling pretty good about the distance covered, stoked to experience the full gamut of weather on the AT, and very happy to pitch the tent under a roof. Tuesday I woke up to about 4 inches of snow and temps in the teens. It was windy and bitter cold so I thought... stay warm today, hike tomorrow. I spent the day getting fire wood, water, keeping the dog warm, trying to dry out my stuff. Actually those tasks are pretty tough in the wintry weather. The water was far away and hard to keep from freezing once retrieved. Every time I collected wood I'd get covered in snow, staying wet or damp most of the day. Drying out my stuff by the fire was involved because I wanted it close enough to get warm and dry but far enough not to catch fire. My gloves and shoe laces ended up getting a bit charred. I was banking on the next day being sunny and 40, snow will melt I thought, and I'll do a 19, then 14 ish to get to Bland, day dreaming crazy crushin days to get to Pearisburg. It never got to 30 degrees Tuesday. Wednesday I woke up antsy to get out of there, packed up despite the cold and snow, put my feet in sandwich Ziplocs then inside my shoes.... my best attempt at waterproofing. The sun peeked thru in the morning, as the day went on it got colder and cloudier. It took me till 2pm to get to Chestnut Knob shelter (only 9 miles). As I hiked on from Knob Maul the snow got deeper and deeper as I went up and down mountain ridges. By the time I was on the top of Chestnut Knob / brushy mountain the snow was up to my knees. The shelter was four sided, I had to muscle the door to open it against all the snow. I tuned into the radi o on my mp3 player. The forecast was another cold one and more snow the next day, probably that way for the next week. I decided this situation was no good right around the time I saw houses to the left of the ridge. Houses and I road I thought, the woods are beautiful, but I better get out of here while I still have feeling in my digits. I veered off the AT, skied/ slid down the mountain. The first man I crossed paths with was a local dairy farm owner on his way to hunt. "Are you lost" he asked from his drivers seat through the window. I explained my situation to him, which apparently he found wilder at every sentence. He kinda stared at me open mouthed, but eventually gave me a ride to Burkes Garden General Store. They invited me and Geronimo in, fed us grilled cheese and hot dogs and let us thaw out by their wood stove. The owner and his mother were the picture of warm genuine southern hospitality and exchanged smiles and stories with me. Fischa ended up driving 3 hours thru the mountain roads to pick me up and bring me... back to Dalevile... back to my parents; which is where I am now. First thought : jimminee Christmas that was beautiful. Second thought: winter thru hiking is not my cup of tea. So no more thru hike attempts in that kind of weather, I'm probably holed up around here working intermittently until warmer weather returns. I still want to hike, still feel like I won't move out west till this journey is complete... but life is unpredictable. Stay tuned =)

It's not logical.

2008-11-17T08:41:00.000-05:00

There seems to be every logical reason for me not to hike. 10 forecast seems to be enough
Today
Nov 17 Snow Shower / Wind 33°/19° 50 %
Tue
Nov 18 AM Snow Showers / Wind 25°/13° 30 %
Wed
Nov 19 Mostly Sunny 35°/21° 10 %
Thu
Nov 20 Mostly Cloudy 39°/19° 10 %
Fri
Nov 21 Rain / Snow Showers 36°/16° 30 %
Sat
Nov 22 Few Snow Showers 40°/19° 30 %
Sun
Nov 23 Partly Cloudy 38°/29° 20 %
Mon
Nov 24 Rain / Snow Showers 47°/24° 60 %
Tue
Nov 25 Mostly Sunny 46°/27° 20 %
Wed
Nov 26 Partly Cloudy 44°/26° 10 %

10 days... then it's Keyser WV for Thanksgiving, no matter what I do the next ten days. I ran Camelot yesterday; the stretch of trail between 220-Rte 11; my first steps of this thru hike. I feel weird even calling my journey a thru hike anymore, but.. for all intensive purposes you know what I mean. I crossed paths with Homer Witcher, a man who thru hiked with his wife and 2 young children years ago. We hugged. "I thought I was the only one crazy enough to be out here right now" he said. "Nah, I'm pretty crazy too" we laughed. We briefly talked about the trail "I've seen a bunch of southbounders out there, mostly guys. I can tell they're lonely. I think they'd quit at the drop of a dime if they could. You know I think sometimes it takes more courage to quit than to keep hiking" he said.
Yeah. So I surprisingly ran the whole stretch mp3 jammin out with Norah Jones, Damien Rice and other mellow beautiful songwriters. Those hills that caused me so much trouble during cross country and beyond seemed shorter, smaller, more forgiving. I thought about how they led me to Shenandoah, to Smart mountain, to Franconia Ridge, to Bemis Mountain, to Katahdin. By the time I turned to run back my mp3 picked upbeat songs... baby please don't go down to New Orleans well I love you so baby please don't go.
I don't want to hike in the cold. I don't want to hike in the dark. I don't want to hike alone. You work with what you are given. I want to hike. I want to walk the trail more than anything else right now, so I'll have to deal with the elements.
I can't explain this to you. I can't explain this to me.
Insight from my friends:
Birdbath-Don't think, just hike.

Hot Cheese-Everyone has a hardest part of their journey, something meant for only them; something they must confront and overcome, maybe this is mine. Maybe for some reason there are deep seeded parts of me that need to get through a season like this.

Bones-the thru-hiker is a master of adaptation, fierce as campfire embers,malleable as earth in a stream, cold but emotional, vulnerable,impervious to the elements...breathing air, allowing sunshine to reveal, darkness to obscure...a ghost, a wraith, a living, breathingbeing....

Low-I've hesitated to just come out and say "C'mon Bound, it's time to walk", but you know - at this point I feel like I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't. THE TRAIL IS THERE FOR YOU - WAITING. And you are so clearly ready to go.

So go. And don't just go saying "I'm hoping to do some more VA miles". Go saying "I'm walking to Dville", or "I'm walking through the Smokies". Walk with conviction and destination. Walk so that the trail knows you are there.

New Hampshire is gone sister. Peace. Maine... gone... New England... history. What you have now is a life on the horizon - Almost Heaven, West Virginia. Almost Heaven, North to Montana. There is a trail that is leading you right up to all of those places, and it's just outside your door. "I don't think I leave the East until I finish this". Your words, not mine.

When I was in Erwin - I looked myself in the mirror and said "Low - Man the Fuck Up". I got back on trail the next day - so proud that I was able to give myself the tough love I needed - and also that I called myself by my trail name for the first time out loud in private.

Bound - Man the Fuck Up. Do what we both know you're going to do - which is walk. Stop fighting the trail - the current. Let go. Let the river take you. Let the mountains lead you.

THE REWARD IS WORTH IT.

Hasty-Don't forget to look up.

So it's back to Atkins for me, against all logical reason. If I don't freeze and lose my digits to frostbite I'll update again prob around thanksgiving.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!!!!!!

It should all be so simple, but you'd rather make it hard.

2008-11-15T08:54:00.000-05:00

Wow. So I haven't been writing much because I don't know what's in my head anymore, much less how to explain it, especially to put it in writing.
I went to Emory with Geronimo via Heather a couple weeks ago. After an eventful election night at my old home Hasty dropped me under the sign in the Damascus town park and I walked north. It was a beautiful solitary 5 day 80 some mile walk. The woods are grey, mostly cloudy, cold wind whips through them. A few topaz colored leaves straggle on bare tree limbs. When the sun breaks through the clouds in rare moments it is epic. I heard it would rain 4+ days and my best childhood friend passionately wanted me to celebrate her 25th birthday with her. SO I took a ride from Atkins back to Daleville.
I've been tossing around ideas, feelings, desires, options, etc around in my head since being in Daleville. I know I want the trail. I know I'm weary of walking it in the current conditions. I may return to see if I can overcome that feeling and reconnect with my original desire to hike. If that doesn't go well I'll probably postpone things until spring shifts circumstances. I do not plan to leave this area (or cut my hair =) until the miles are walked. I'll keep ya posted as best I can. Thanks for your continued care and support. ~B

Wild at Heart

2008-11-03T12:48:00.000-05:00

My estranged funk broke around Wednesday. The latter part of this week and weekend were filled with good friends, great times, and lots of smiles. I ran with my sister, went to church twice, hiked Alta Mons with 3 wild dogs, Kindergarten field trip to pumpkin patch/ corn maze/ orchard, shopped with Cindy and Carson, rocked out with my favorite flapper Carrie, trail magiced Mooch and Buffet after scooping them off the side of 220, helped Amy move outta Allendale, Indain Buffet, 8mm films / campfire at Tyler's, James River adventure with Doug, etc etc. Virginia is .... (no words for it). My hope is to return to walking the AT in SOVA the first part of the week. My lil camera is still out of commission, but Geronimo's itchin to see wild ponies... so we'll just see what manifests itself. BTW HAPPY NOVEMBER!!!!

Gamble everything for Love

2008-10-29T22:32:00.000-04:00

Labor Day Weekend 07 in Grayson Highlands

I haven't done too much since being in Virginia other than cook and hang out with my family. It's strange and disorienting. I have hopes to hike s'more before Christmas but right now things are very fluid. I am beginning to feel a little better physically. My camera was sent off for 2-4 weeks to be assessed and hopefully repaired. "I guess you use this a lot" the Best Buy Geek Squad said... "yeah, I smiled sheepishly... I hike a lot... that's my adventure camera." "You got this in May," he continued "the serial number is worn off".
Geronimo has been the best to bum around with, always ready for trips, rest, or ridiculousness I have a strong feeling I won't return to the AT without him.

A song I first heard from a guy who's become one of my closest fellows on this AT adventure; a happy song

Painfully Beautiful

2008-10-26T20:12:00.000-04:00

Where are you? How are you doing? folks ask me. Generally I like to give people the report they want to hear; I'm happy. I love it here. Weather's great. Company amazing. Heart's alive.
The past few weeks since coming to Georgia have unraveled in an unforeseen manner. I unloaded tired in Gainsville GA from the bus and approached Springer thru Amacoloa. Spent the first night alone in the Springer Mtn Shelter. Awoke to rain, fog, cold, hiked 13ish miles anyway. Since then, honestly, things have been rough.
Anxious/ excited/ confident I went to GA looking to hike strong, fast, happy. By the third morning I was throwing up with a cold and jaded about a sketchy run in with an armed local. I hiked on.
There is an indescribable, ego, culture, occasional confinement that the AT conjures. Mostly it is strength; the desire and drive to try harder when all is lost, the passion to dig deeper when your body aches, the miles are long, nights are cold, smiles sparse, and the echoes of your absent friends whisper in your soul wakeful hours. There is strength in the hardship you know you've come thru, and a courage rising out of the mountains and heavens around you, urging you to move another step, journey on.
That being said, there comes a time, for me anyway, all the strength, grandeur, beauty of the trail is not enough. After many slow long days of being humbled between Springer and Fontana Dam I have retreated to Virginia for some rest and refocusing. I do not plan to "quit" the trail. I do not necessarily plan to continue in the "traditional" form (aka a straight line north Fontana-Daleville). I am not in a place right now to plan period.
I have decided I want to walk Southern Appalachia with my heart. The remaining quarter of the trail I have not traversed I have been saving for years, months, to experience, enjoy, in an all encompassing wholesome way.
I can't do that when I'm sick, so I hope to return to the TC (trail corridor) when I am not sick. I'm also hoping to walk many of those miles with friends who can do a week here and there and possibly Mr.Geronimo himself =)
How am I? Beat up and searching. Where am I? Somewhere safe and warm I want to be. How's the south? Painfully Beautiful.
Despite the nights being 20-30 degrees and days windy and sunny most of the leaves thru the mountains are still green, save an overall tawnyness of a draught-ridden summer (yellows and browns). The light is lovely; a rich, gold-pink saturation of the landscape. I spent a night last week on a bald mountain top Cherokees went to to talk their gods. There were meteor showers, face melting sunset and sunrise, wind, light, fierce frigid beauty.
I have not been totally alone. I have met many groups of men hiking together who know one another from church. I even had the opportunity to participate in campfire bible study one of my first nights in NC; an enriching, comfortable, inspiring experience (some of the first christian camaraderie I've had since moving out of Allendale in April).
So I decided after a day of river walking and mentally wrestling I would meet my Dad in a few days with the intention of putting myself back together before figuring out how the journey goes from here. The day I met him, to top it all off, my camera quit working. I felt like Artex was sinking in the swamp of sadness, NES style. Pretty much on the brink of complete breakdown my dad and I weaved our way back north thru Tennessee country roads.
So that's what's up. Thanks for your love, understanding and support. I'll let ya know what's next when I know, for now however... I'm reaching a peace of existence.

Two more thoughts:
On my shakedown hike in the Dolly Sods with Carrie & Big Al I stumbled upon this verse
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9

A lonely sad uncomfortable night between the NOC and Fontana I stumbled upon this verse
"Thus says the Lord: 'The people who survived the sword found grace in the wilderness; when Israel sought for rest, the Lord appeared to him from far away. I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you. Again I will build you, and you shall be built..." Jeremiah 31:2-4

Rivers Run Thru it

2008-10-21T12:44:00.000-04:00

Shifting my entire mind, heart, journey these past days. I've made it to the Natahala Outdoor Center on the beautiful Natahala River in North Carolina. It has been hard times hiking, pill popping, crawling into my sleeping bag to escape the cold and dark. It is beautiful, it is hard, it is - a driving force to soul search and dig for strength. I'm rethinking my reasons for each step, I'm trying to shake the confines of "the appalchian trail culture" and make this walk, these views, these moments, MINE. So I might be doing some weird stuff the next couple months. Am I sick of the AT? never. I'm only sick of feeling sick and tired. Thanks for your continued love, support, and understanding. Know that all of you are never far from my thoughts, heart, and prayers, especially in these hard times. I love you. As always - I'll keep you posted =)

Southern Comfort

2008-10-15T11:41:00.000-04:00

Still in Hiawassee, still sick physically but doing alright overall. In all my philosphy and rambling I forgot to tell you guys a few things. The men who run the Hiawassee Inn make me cinnamon toast and hot chocolate. My first evening in town I dined with 2 other hikers at a family steakhouse... the buffet was chicken pot pie, collard greens, mashed potates, rolls, cornbread, pinto beans, beets, fried chicken, salad, apple cobbler, cheesecake. The waitress was prompt on refilling our pink lemonade, iced tea, and DrPepper. I started looking around the room- wooden craft signs saying "the power of prayer" "god bless you" and other Jesus paraphanalia hung on the walls. Around 7pm the room of mostly senior citizens cleared out, I followed a strange murmer of music to the bathroom. The entire foyer was decorated with collector's plates, paintings, of Gone witht he Wind- even a life size cardboard replica of Scarlett O Hara. The music- an everyone's welcome evening gospel bluegrass session. =) I started noticing this town more after that. Nearly everyone tells me "God Bless you". It is written on the side of car mechanic garages and beauty salons. The baptist church is perhaps the biggest building in town, after Ingles and the hospital. It is sunny and brilliant with chilly nights. Even though I'm sick and in a hotel, it's nice to feel... southern again.

You Gotsta What You Gotsta

2008-10-14T12:19:00.000-04:00

Hard to believe I've been living AT life for 152 days now. Sometimes as I hike I do calculations.... how many days in a year... how long have I been doing ths... how many more miles to 220... how many days... how many miles each day. Um. I'm an artist- generally... I don't do math. Sigh. Just another thing life on the AT has made me adapt to.
I was pretty amped to get to Georgia. My summit of Katahdin proved to be nothing less than epic. Hot Cheese, Birdbath and I ended up hiking 21 miles that day, from 6am to 1am, I was on the summit of Baxter at 6pm, we descended the 5 miles back to Katahdin Stream Campground in complete darkness, in the rain, with only each other and our headlamps for comfort. It was exhausting, beautiful, it was other-wordly.
My travels after that turned to a whirlwind. Their friends got us to Millinocket, then the Bangor ME bus station. I switched between the stations on my bus seat armrest bob dylan, damien rice, will ferrell movie. The scenery melded from blazing foilage and rain to the metallic tungsten glow of Boston. We poured out of the bus into the subway station. Classical guitar amped twanged thru the tunnels... passengers buried their noses from stinky hikers... Hot Cheese and I laughed till we cried.
After a lovely visit and delicious Indian food I was flying Boston->Atlanta->Richmond. Ben and Dad picked me up and with a great sigh of relief and comfort there I was, back in my beautiful Virginia. Virginia was mostly the same. Still green, busy traffic around RIC, tasty Olive Garden.
The next week I tried to squeeze as much friend/ family catch up time into my trail chores of getting ready for the south. It was restful, ridiculous and busy all at the same time. I went out for drinks, played frisbee with the dogs, was reunited with Martin, worked demo day at ODT and ofter various madness.
Before I knew it I was kicking around downtown Roanoke with Sarah feeling a lot like Angie waiting for a Greyhound. After many hours and stops in Wytheville, Johnson City, and Atlanta I met Josh form the Hiker Hostel at the Gainsville bus station.
Despite some pouting I went to Amacolola State Park and hiked the 9ish miles on the approach trail to Springer Mtn summit... and then... there I was. Alone on the southern terminus a little more than a week after being on Special K.
It rained all the next day. I walked anyway, cruising the beautiful Georgian trail. I have walked every day until today. It was cloudy and windy until yesterday afternoon.
Georgia, like the rest of the trail, is not unfolding like I would've imagined. My left foot is bothering me and my medically attuned friends think I may be developing tendinitis. A lot of the hostels buddies have recommended I stay at are closed for the season until the spring rush of thru hikers. My third morning out I woke up feeling terrible, with a cold, and throwing up. After debating and wondering about my health and the foot, I thought... I'll be damned if I don't get out of Georgia... slowly but surely I will... if Low can hike with Lyme's Disease and Bones can puke all over the Presidential range I can hike Georgia right now. So- I did. A lot of days, miles, thoughts, feelings later I'm here in Hiawassee, the last town in Georgia, 9 trail miles from NC. I am taking a day off.
The sickness is probably just a cold but hiking all day and sleeping outside isn't helping so I'm holed up in a Motel for a second night. It's sunny and beautiful, but I'm wrapping my head around the fact that if I'm not well I will start to break down, and now, just as much as ever, I am committed to continuing this journey, on foot, to Daleville.
It's a hard part of the AT Journey; balancing between mental prowess and physical breakdown. I have dug deep the past few days to sift thru my last three weeks- what a whirlwind: Maine wilderness, snackpackers, Special K summits, cities, mass transit, friends, family, beautiful VA, hiking again- a flip that has been a little harder than I anticipated. Before I left Virginia I was sure to do a few things; love Geronimo, wash my sleeping bag and pack, fix up my MP3 player Carrie helped me out with, and watch the Neverending story. Those have proved to be strengthening in hard times.
I think a lot about my life, my heart, my physical place while the past 152 days. A few things dawned on me.
1. Reaching Daleville is not just a completion of this journey, it is likely my last hoorah in the Eastern Time zone for awhile. Now that I am back in the south that is more sad and bittersweet than I thought it would be while dreaming of Western Montana the past few months hiking in New England
2. Sometimes I consider this trip in terms of what my heart has gone through. While in Monson Maine Burass, Powder River and I watched Charlie's Angels. Kinda silly and a stray from the usual socially active. conscience movies I watch... but there was a line I've been thinking a lot about. Charlie or that other guy tell the girls a heart is a muscle... and just like the rest of their muscles if they want to be strong and smart and able to endure things they must exercise, and sometimes that hurts for awhile, and sometimes it doesn't seem to be worth it, but if they keep at the work out- it will get strong. Well- let's just say this heart of mine goes thru a lot. Aside from the male mumbo jumbo I realized rolling through dusk south on 81 over the New River, Wytheville, Emory, into Tennessee- this journey is a love story. Not about a girl and a boy, not about a woman and a man, not about two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl (although that's all there too) nope, this is a love story about me and Virginia. Virginia always being there, always waiting, always beautiful welcoming strengthening. Stirs my soul. I love Virginia.
So... after a day of rest I plan to walk on... though the weather be fowl and hakken Kraks crowl... because Atrayu from the NES wouldn't give up... and Virginia is just a little further north.

Oh yeah- and a thought on the ever present question EVERYONE asks me-
"WHY?"
To wonder. To breathe. To move.

Midnight train to Georgia =)

2008-10-02T00:06:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I'm not actually taking a train, and it won't be at midnight... but I am officially headed to Georgia Monday afternoon and should be hiking agin by Tuesday morning. SWEET. As always, I'll keep you posted. For now I've accomplished my tasks around VA and have been taking it easy in the Virginia fall breeze catching up with friends and family. God bless the southland =D

Exhale

2008-09-28T13:00:00.001-04:00

After a lovely week in the wilderness I summited Baxter Peak on Katahdin Friday evening. I will post thoughts and pictures later, I'm still processing and traveling right now. I should be in the botetourt/roanoke area tuesday-friday before heading to Georgia for my final leg of the journey. Thank you for your thoughts, prayers, and love. Hope to see some of you soon!

Gateways

2008-09-19T14:34:00.001-04:00

The Appalachian Trail crosses ME 15 3.5 miles from Monson Maine. Monson is the first town southbounders come to, and the last for northbounders. Suffice to say many of my friends and hiking partners are feeling bittersweet about where we are and what this means for their journey and their life. I have the luxury of about 2 more months until my lifestyle must change; it cannot be ignored however that despite the fact I'll still be on the trail after Katahdin my life will be different. I am 114.5 miles from Katahdin's summit. I spent the morning watching the Early show, eating Ben and Jerry's, journaling on a dock, drinking Long Trail Harvest Ale, playing Burass (my new WV friend) in checkers. The snackpackers are off into the wilderness, our fellowship dispersed slightly. Monson is an extremely friendly town. I decided to take an unexpected zero when I found out there was a friday night inpromtu bluegrass jam session outside the general store. There are many other reasons I dug around for to justify a day of rest around town, but honestly, pickin around in the fall was about all it took. God bless bluegrass =)
Big thank you to the Reeds, Amtowers, Vangilders, Mom, and Outdoor Trails crew for sending mail to Monson. I was surprised when I went to retrieve shoes to leave with about 5 pieces of mail. All of your thoughts, prayers and encouragement are very touching. I don't say it enough, but thank you and I love you.
I plan to hike out of town tommorow morning; entering "the one hundred mile wilderness". That will lead me right to the foot of Katahdin I suppose. My tenative plan is to climb the mountain Saturday September 27. Plans after that get a little more complicated and open, but somehow I'll make my way south (not on foot) to either and Virginia, NOLA, Georgia. If any of you would be interested in taking me from Daleville VA to Springer mountain in GA the first weekish of October let me know.
The trail has mellowed out drastically from the rocky steep craggy mountains of New Hampshire and southern Maine. The past week has been rolling through pond sides, pine forests, and snowmobile trails with an occasional welcomed mountain in between. I hear, I hope, the wilderness is similar to that, with Special K rising about 4,000 in elevation at the end.
I am excited to have come so far. I am excited to spend time with such amazing people. I am SO excited to head back down south =) where perhaps more of my heart is than I realized.
Carrie is working on loading a small MP3 player with music to carry me through the lonely chillly southern part of my journey. Feelin good about that, feelin good about what's to come. As always, I'll keep you guys posted ;)
Now go enjoy the fall!
If the chill, sun, color, etc are anything where you are like they are here the only place to be is outside marinating in the awe some season =D