2008-09-29-0810
Breakdown, breakthrough
Yesterday I hit a point of disbelief in this path I don't recall reaching ever before.
All that appeared left to do, as I considered the bleakest possibility--which now seem not so bad (, but only because. . .) --to subsume identity either to [1] that of the family (head to Tennessee, be part of farm, and it is very cool to be able to say my family has a sort of group identity--as do the Bushes, Kennedys) or [2] that of the monastery.
The whole day I'd been walking in thick thick fog, visibility not more than 100m. I was mostly along shore until Puerto Salina. There I begged some water (still not at peace paying to drink water, and being fairly certain the boats have drinkable water piped to their tanks--but maybe not), probably the last time I do that. A guard made me walk along the cuota (toll hwy) instead of the housing development road, but only because that's his job and I happened to walk near him.
I tried to get back to the beach, but it was like walking moors--low visibility, and worry about trespass (which, btw, seems to be a realestate term here used by noncitizens(?). In _Baja Times_ classifieds, two uses: trespassing [a cafe, a house] offered for sale), and from what I could see, shore was rocky. Returned to cuota, but the off-shoulder path--which had been my reassuring companion ever since downtown Tijuana, my welcome mat and constant reminder that I had entered a land where people walked--petered out. Stopped finally to eat, rest. Contemplated a long foggy walk along cuota shoulder through unpopulated country, decided to head back to find the free road, thinking there would be more along it, including a better walking trail.
I ended up going way way back (I had gone further than I thought) and the free road looked not any better and probably more dangerous to walk along. So, I was stuck at Puente Misión. A very popular family beach (soccer photo is from there). Road is under construcción, no place for the little buses to stop, and I'd seen none in my long (>6km?) walk back, though someone told me 'cada media hora'--every half hour.
Went out to lay on beach. Mist had cleared by now. An ultralight was flying around. At some point saw little bus go by slowly. Ran after. Did not make it but did see surfer hitch ride for him, three buddies, two boards at least, movie camera, tripod, high fives all around in celebration, in the back of a new white pickup truck. He'd been standing on or leaning over the concrete barrier with a larger than life smile and thumb, exuding an aura of "you will pick me up," so much so that all traffic on the cuota (one lane at this point) had to slow to pass. In fact, from the side he was on, all traffic in that lane would have to stop as his party got in. It did.
I felt totally incapable of that kind of performance and was.--The odd, misfit american escapee, uncharismatic, losing faith in any mission he may have once had, nearly worth laughing at if you weren't so polite, not at all like any of the others around, mexican families, pants-wearing males, me odd enough as I was where I came from.
Well, this is learning occurring. What do I do now? I was going nowhere before, why should I try to leave? I tried hitching for a while. Then went back beachside and watched the food-sellers and makers of cocos y camarones (green coconuts cut to form bowl, filled with shrimp + ?, ~$2). One chopper had all his fingers, whole, a marvel, as I watched him whack-carve nuts into bowls, providing samples of white coconut meat to discriminating buyers, with machete. An adolescent with wheelbarrow showed a palate of snacks and candies worth photographing, but I'll not take the time here to show you why.
I eventually gave up and went to take a nap on the beach. Cool it was, and I got out my quilt and lay under it, and was out.
Rousing, sun setting, families leaving, second to last of big dome tents being struck. A guy said no buses stop here. Walked out by laguna in darkness--what would sleeping here be like? But road noise too much. Went back to beach and found a spot. Many of the little busses seemed to be passing now. This was Sunday.
I'd not bought more water or food, somewhat resolved to fast of both (feeling this experience was approaching spiritual), but was bottling urine. A bit annoyed at how much water'd been running through me, considering drinking no more till urine yellow. And I do use urine sometimes for soaking legumes & fire safety if water is low. Plus the practice had let me piss earlier among the crowds under my quilt without getting up.
Well at some point in there had the identity-subsuming thoughts. Humbling. [The arrogance of not subsuming self to culture and "time" apparent. . . in believing, hoping, one might carve out another worthwhile path, differing from those known, upon which new cultural dynasties--or at least one successfully idiosyncratic one--can be built.]
Things are different in the morning. Got up--briefly had a literal personal rain cloud, but otherwise clear & no mist. Walked back toward south to get to a place to catch a bus. Quickly got a short hitch to Puerto Salina. Walked up hill (there is a photo) to where I caught a free bus (driver drives workers from Ensenada north in AM and south in PM) all the way to Ensenada. Looking at the route, I was generally glad not to be walking--deserted land around the cuota, rocky coast for miles. Got to learn some things and attempt Spanish with Javier, the driver (and a pastor), but he'd use English when things got too bad. Told me about his schizophrenic brother who just set out walking 29(?) years ago, no trabajo, no esposa, no familia, no casa, no carro, no dinero. I got to repeat a bit of that litany, but he assured me that one look at his hermano was enough to tell you he was not well. BTW, I passed a guy(?) earlier sitting in a doorway with the oddest clothing and headgear made of twisted scraps of different colored plastic bags(?).
In Ensenada I bought water (5L, $1.72), found a way to call my credit union without using the cell phone. I have a calling card--but to even dial a toll-free number from a public phone here, it seems you need a Ladatel/Telnor(?) card. Robin at the credit union got my debit card unblocked in Mexico (said fraud occurs here). Got pesos. Bought some sardines, tortillas. Found internet cafe--got directed to one with faster connection.
And so on (among times of wondering, "now what should I do?"). Practiced racial profiling: if white, ask in English if has suggestion where to find people looking for boat crew. Found the Vendimia Restaurant this way--mariners meet there Thursdays beginning ~5. And they had copies of the free _Baja Times_ http://Bajatimes.net , which was good to read.
--
The main news though is that I went from despair about the possibility for me of this rather undefined path to a level of validation. _Baja Times_ is, naturally, pro-baja, anti-anti-baja hysteria, and, as it turns out, in one article (about dreading having to cross the border to return to the states), anti SoCal. We who live there cannot afford to complain too much about what is inhuman about that region--we or our friends have enough of a challenge trying to be content there.
[It has been] Less reading _Baja Times_ though, [than] it has been the experience of being here [that. . .]. I want to say (but won't entirely) that for my purposes, this is a mostly treeless, warmer Monterey with a bigger port, and the added benefit of being foreign (oddness and difference when not isolating and overwhelming can make activities that would be dull and routine in the home culture much more challenging and inspiring of contemplation) as well as home to people who walk and who camp out--the reading material left in the bushes on the undeveloped hill overlooking all of town is in Spanish. No white (or brown)-girl porn, so far,--but pieces of one well-written and photo'd mexican travel mag, as well as old daily papers.
Other benefits: good coastal access, great coastal public spaces (sleeping, loitering, lazing about in public is done, is ok, is encouraged), town residents (kids stand out) who know and love each other and wander around (in their sexy school uniforms), no helicopters, no airport, no smog--though MX cars smell worse than [new, non-diesel] CA cars, MX trucks (noisewise) are out of control, and indoor air pollution in several of the places I've been in, for diverse reasons, was notable or intense. [Proximity to coast and low population may be main reason for better air than inland SD. TJ reeked.]
Other things: no pedestrian barriers, but crosswalks on even a main street with two lanes each way, and no lights, but stop signs. None of this bullshit where cars get to roll up, trigger the signal, and pedestrians, chained and corralled into crossing only one side of the intersection have to walk over and press a tough little cold metal healthily germ-ridden recessed nubbin. Fuck you SoCal! Fuck you CalTrans! Fuck you San Diego Airport and Port Authority! Fuck all you car drivers everywhere and you who build roads for them and make their lives easier. Sociopathic city-, society-, life-destroyers. [Thanks go to Kunstler. Is this mindful? I really think it is the personal car {cf. "Christ as savior"}--if you accept it into your life (as driver or as cohabitant), the modern US works for you. If you cannot, for whatever reason, you are. . . given the privilege of helping realize different lifeways, different rural & urban forms. All car-drivers evil? All slave-owners evil? Is this reasonable? Retrospectively, when all/most new cities are built car-free, perhaps the languaging, attitude, and emotion here are skilfull means. Retrospectively, as long as there is no movement for change, it is unreasonable, unhelpful. 0113--time to quit.]
Having found this, the only other main mission I may still have (beyond wandering on, should I feel like it) is to visit Parque Nacional Sierra San Pedro Martír.
Since I may have found a place I can stay in and be somewhat at peace, at ease, I may take the time to mend my pack, wash my clothes & pack (never washed them since last trip), and who knows what else.
Peace (hehe!),
2008-09-30-0047
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
FW: Re: great issue #140; nowhere
[ While the following is not really intelligible, I continue to consider "how best to serve" as I walk. I tend to be thinking the best most people (among the norteños) can do is to do less. Or to have fun. And, oddly perhaps, of all the things I can think of that I'm able to do--what I'm doing now seems most fun--though varied, hard, uncertain, risky(?). Some organized way of helping people have fun while consuming less might pass as a more legit, recognizable way of helping the earth--beyond just exploring a possibility, beyond being perhaps an example.
I know I'm going nowhere, so I walk. While many others going nowhere drive there. And wider roads are built there, when one set of train tracks would serve to move as many in a more coordinated and social manner.
I walk past many nowheres being built, or already abandoned. In most nowheres down here (but those of the paisanos), no one has planted any food.
]
Hi Colin,
Thanks for your message! Very glad you enjoyed the issue.
May we have permission to reprint this as a letter to the editor? Your reward for this would be a complementary copy of the issue in which it appears (the next one, #141). If you like this idea, please let me know the address to which we should send the issue (this will be in mid-December). Also, is there anything you want to change about the message? We'll fix up any punctuation to fit our style sheet.
Thanks again and I'll wait to hear from you,
Chris Roth
Editor, Communities [ http://communities.ic.org ]
Colin Leath wrote:
The first I've read somewhat completely through perhaps ever.
I won't take the time to analyze why, though (well, I do, a bit). And unfortunately I won't be renewing as I'll now be living more nomadically, cheaply, leaving interest in formal community somewhat behind.
I guess #140 addresses my more anarchistic/network/somewhat community-apprehensive leaning. Has update from carfree hero [Evan & Kate?] Hughes. The e-list dialog summary. The impressive, beautiful europeans from Tamera (been curious). Was in Seattle when Nick Licata was running. The Morningstar story gets a bit at desire to avoid community process--. The idea of creating community where you are appeals--like Thich Nhat Hanh--"your sangha can be everything/we need the formal sangha". Often (, not living in community beyond occasional meetings with fellow activists,) all the stuff focusing on business and process, difficult members, etc, I'd just skip over. Moving from suburban-type isolation of "the middle" (a power lab/Barry Oshry concept), crossing the boundary to transformation, vision, growth--has been an ongoing question. How do I get out of my rut, create, help, serve? Together, with others? Will be wandering about, meeting whoever happens to be there, sometimes with that in mind.
Peace,
I know I'm going nowhere, so I walk. While many others going nowhere drive there. And wider roads are built there, when one set of train tracks would serve to move as many in a more coordinated and social manner.
I walk past many nowheres being built, or already abandoned. In most nowheres down here (but those of the paisanos), no one has planted any food.
]
Hi Colin,
Thanks for your message! Very glad you enjoyed the issue.
May we have permission to reprint this as a letter to the editor? Your reward for this would be a complementary copy of the issue in which it appears (the next one, #141). If you like this idea, please let me know the address to which we should send the issue (this will be in mid-December). Also, is there anything you want to change about the message? We'll fix up any punctuation to fit our style sheet.
Thanks again and I'll wait to hear from you,
Chris Roth
Editor, Communities [ http://communities.ic.org ]
Colin Leath wrote:
The first I've read somewhat completely through perhaps ever.
I won't take the time to analyze why, though (well, I do, a bit). And unfortunately I won't be renewing as I'll now be living more nomadically, cheaply, leaving interest in formal community somewhat behind.
I guess #140 addresses my more anarchistic/network/somewhat community-apprehensive leaning. Has update from carfree hero [Evan & Kate?] Hughes. The e-list dialog summary. The impressive, beautiful europeans from Tamera (been curious). Was in Seattle when Nick Licata was running. The Morningstar story gets a bit at desire to avoid community process--. The idea of creating community where you are appeals--like Thich Nhat Hanh--"your sangha can be everything/we need the formal sangha". Often (, not living in community beyond occasional meetings with fellow activists,) all the stuff focusing on business and process, difficult members, etc, I'd just skip over. Moving from suburban-type isolation of "the middle" (a power lab/Barry Oshry concept), crossing the boundary to transformation, vision, growth--has been an ongoing question. How do I get out of my rut, create, help, serve? Together, with others? Will be wandering about, meeting whoever happens to be there, sometimes with that in mind.
Peace,
Saturday, September 27, 2008
FW: Re: good places for long walks in Ba
[Graham's ( http://grahammackintosh.com ) reply to my email, below]
Hi Colin,
I'm making a brief reply as I'm up in N. Michigan and won't be back home in San Diego for a couple of weeks. Not sure if you've already set off on your Baja adventure. Congrats on your Sierra walk. Great prep for a Baja or Mexican trip. Only thing I'd be worried about south of the border is the chance of running into drug growers or runners. But you can do that anywhere. Plenty of horror stories from San Diego to keep things in perspective. I just disappear and keep a low profile.
My focus these days...?as I age gracefully... is on finding a nice quiet spot to set up a base camp and explore from there. So I haven't really been thinking too much about extended trails... but Mexico must have as many as your preference dictates. ?You could go on an extended mushroom hunting foray! Follow the coasts, travel the mountains, explore the deserts, take the boat ride.
?
Search online all the Mexican parks and Biosphere reserves, etc. Might give you some ideas.
Let me know how it goes. Good luck.
Graham
-----Original Message-----
From: Colin Leath
To: bajadetour
Sent: Wed, 24 Sep 2008 3:21 pm
Subject: good places for long walks in Baja or the rest of Mexico?
Graham,
this is Colin--I'm the carfree guy who met you two years ago at the fungus fair!
I just finished a long walk (two months) in the sierras, partly in preparation for a walk in Baja.
When I tell people where I plan to go I generally but not always get horror stories.
I have also found a guy in San Carlos (near Guayamas) who has a boat I could be crew on for continued travel south. Perhaps I could walk somewhere in that area or in that direction--he may not leave until November.
What I would like to do is catch the first trolley to the border one morning (tomorrow would be great) and start walking south along the pacific coast. When it gets dark, keep walking for a while, then find a spot to sleep.
If you have any advice please let me know.
Are there places in MX where people go for long walks--such as the PCT and AT and CDT in the US?
As long as there are areas where good water sources are not too far apart and the heat not too intense, it seems many places could be good to walk.
Peace,
Colin
fo-rest.blogspot.com
Hi Colin,
I'm making a brief reply as I'm up in N. Michigan and won't be back home in San Diego for a couple of weeks. Not sure if you've already set off on your Baja adventure. Congrats on your Sierra walk. Great prep for a Baja or Mexican trip. Only thing I'd be worried about south of the border is the chance of running into drug growers or runners. But you can do that anywhere. Plenty of horror stories from San Diego to keep things in perspective. I just disappear and keep a low profile.
My focus these days...?as I age gracefully... is on finding a nice quiet spot to set up a base camp and explore from there. So I haven't really been thinking too much about extended trails... but Mexico must have as many as your preference dictates. ?You could go on an extended mushroom hunting foray! Follow the coasts, travel the mountains, explore the deserts, take the boat ride.
?
Search online all the Mexican parks and Biosphere reserves, etc. Might give you some ideas.
Let me know how it goes. Good luck.
Graham
-----Original Message-----
From: Colin Leath
To: bajadetour
Sent: Wed, 24 Sep 2008 3:21 pm
Subject: good places for long walks in Baja or the rest of Mexico?
Graham,
this is Colin--I'm the carfree guy who met you two years ago at the fungus fair!
I just finished a long walk (two months) in the sierras, partly in preparation for a walk in Baja.
When I tell people where I plan to go I generally but not always get horror stories.
I have also found a guy in San Carlos (near Guayamas) who has a boat I could be crew on for continued travel south. Perhaps I could walk somewhere in that area or in that direction--he may not leave until November.
What I would like to do is catch the first trolley to the border one morning (tomorrow would be great) and start walking south along the pacific coast. When it gets dark, keep walking for a while, then find a spot to sleep.
If you have any advice please let me know.
Are there places in MX where people go for long walks--such as the PCT and AT and CDT in the US?
As long as there are areas where good water sources are not too far apart and the heat not too intense, it seems many places could be good to walk.
Peace,
Colin
fo-rest.blogspot.com
banditos, white; little to burn, novel
Typing here, a foolishness, a bright glowing magnet for all coast dune-lurking bandits.
Under the quilt now--better. I met a white beggar just the Mexico side of la frontiera. A small head, dark slick-combed hair, freckled face, large dress or polo shirt over what suggests a bulletproof vest. Jeans, new tan work boots. "Do you speak English?" he asks, then explains he spent night in Ensenada jail and is trying to raise $12 for bus fare to Oxnard, been asking an hour . . . "in vain. Can you help?"
"Probably-- wait until I'm finished (doing the tourist card scavenger hunt)," I say. I lived in NYC, I think later--I can't give, I've seen the pros work the subway cars, same story day after day--. To make it easier, the woman ahead of me in the card-stamping line asks the stamper about him--. Even so, walking by, saying no, I get nastiness about karma and "you won't even help your own kind." He had just solicited one who looked Mexican.
The next white bandits, besides perhaps Trump, besides perhaps the Spaniards, the Porphirites (sp?), the ruling class, me, my grandparents, etc. . . are in that van over there--Pat and Mike, beautiful surfer Canadians (Ottowa), just out of college.
We got to talking, "So tell me what all is in your pack," says Pat, probably after I blabbed about the <10 lb ideal. Walking back to my spot, mind imagines, what if _they_ were banditos?
They went through the horror story gauntlet without getting any positives (I at least had Graham Mackintosh, Warren Goetze, _People's Guide_), having spent three weeks in San Diego before finally crossing and getting at last some good news from a friendly Mexican in Rosarito. What was the news, beyond his friendliness? Not sure. "What would they want to take from us?" they asked. White-girl porn was all they offered. I sheepishly suggested, "passport?"
--
The only other typing I may have for you this evening is that I have cooked my first meal--lentils, tapioca, seaweed, haberno, eggplant (the latter two from Mark B's garden), garlic, three eggs, some dried anchovies, red/hot spices, shiitake--, always a significant accomplishment in new territory and/or newly on the trail. (vs. eating no-cook food).
Things to burn are often more difficult to find down here.
--
Still walking--, things continue to be interesting and varied enough, partly due to alteration between road and beach walking. And the continuing observation of difference and novelty everywhere, even if unable to articulate what.
Peace,
[fell asleep before posting]
Under the quilt now--better. I met a white beggar just the Mexico side of la frontiera. A small head, dark slick-combed hair, freckled face, large dress or polo shirt over what suggests a bulletproof vest. Jeans, new tan work boots. "Do you speak English?" he asks, then explains he spent night in Ensenada jail and is trying to raise $12 for bus fare to Oxnard, been asking an hour . . . "in vain. Can you help?"
"Probably-- wait until I'm finished (doing the tourist card scavenger hunt)," I say. I lived in NYC, I think later--I can't give, I've seen the pros work the subway cars, same story day after day--. To make it easier, the woman ahead of me in the card-stamping line asks the stamper about him--. Even so, walking by, saying no, I get nastiness about karma and "you won't even help your own kind." He had just solicited one who looked Mexican.
The next white bandits, besides perhaps Trump, besides perhaps the Spaniards, the Porphirites (sp?), the ruling class, me, my grandparents, etc. . . are in that van over there--Pat and Mike, beautiful surfer Canadians (Ottowa), just out of college.
We got to talking, "So tell me what all is in your pack," says Pat, probably after I blabbed about the <10 lb ideal. Walking back to my spot, mind imagines, what if _they_ were banditos?
They went through the horror story gauntlet without getting any positives (I at least had Graham Mackintosh, Warren Goetze, _People's Guide_), having spent three weeks in San Diego before finally crossing and getting at last some good news from a friendly Mexican in Rosarito. What was the news, beyond his friendliness? Not sure. "What would they want to take from us?" they asked. White-girl porn was all they offered. I sheepishly suggested, "passport?"
--
The only other typing I may have for you this evening is that I have cooked my first meal--lentils, tapioca, seaweed, haberno, eggplant (the latter two from Mark B's garden), garlic, three eggs, some dried anchovies, red/hot spices, shiitake--, always a significant accomplishment in new territory and/or newly on the trail. (vs. eating no-cook food).
Things to burn are often more difficult to find down here.
--
Still walking--, things continue to be interesting and varied enough, partly due to alteration between road and beach walking. And the continuing observation of difference and novelty everywhere, even if unable to articulate what.
Peace,
[fell asleep before posting]
Thursday, September 25, 2008
chula vista
Found spot to sleep near Palomar St trolley stop. Plan to cross tomorrow and stay/last as long as poss.
I love this. Could type forever, but Time to turn out the light.
I love this. Could type forever, but Time to turn out the light.
Chay@TJ-couchsurfing-eneasviaje-togethr
Walking back to Grandma Ann's.
Went to look for the first Old Town -> San Ysidro trolley last night, then decided to visit couchsurfing.com (org?) to see if there were any couches in Tijuana. There's a mansion I could stay in there (that's Chay). And more my style, found a guy whose info is all in Spanish, lives with his mom and siblings and has a bit to say about "la cultura auto-destructiva" -- user eneasviaje, I think . . . photo is just eyes and forehead.
I have things to think and write about--all I ask?
Got to see some photos of my sister's/dad's/etc's farm. Very pretty--maybe someone could post the link? I think it is Chris Saywell's picasa page.
Not really any plan now. But perhaps the following:
o Study couchsurfing site a bit more
o Get pants (so I fit in better in MX), or perhaps sew the Jardine/greenpepper ones
o Get more of the maps of the Guayamas (sp?) side of Sea of Cortez (only took Baja)
o Check TJ and points south from the air, satellite view for undisturbed outdoor sleeping potential
o Since I do now have the somewhat more solid plan of crewing with redpillsailor in November, perhaps look at making more $$, perhaps though SDSU temporary services in the meantime.
o When I must go, then go. Seems it will be clear.
o read some David Foster Wallace, who Gianni told me about
Couchsurfing (CS) and a few other things raise good questions.
Were I to be a guest, there are recommendations--bring something, for one. That and not being grungy were two things different from my default.
"And what would I bring?", I got to thinking this morning. Were I like Mike M, he gives away nearly all he makes by hand (potlatch -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Potlatch [outlawed by Canada in 1885 and US]).
Perhaps I could make prints from picasaweb of photos from my last trip. Some I put on my CS profile--
Beyond that, though, there is the challenge, for me, of being social. Chay the mansion guy sounds incredible, but I might be more at home with eneasviaje.
And so then what is the purpose of wandering around? CS asks for your philosophy. The only purpose seems to be in me these days is a sort of "keep moving".
This came up while at G. Ann's earlier: a book of modern thoughts on bible verses, one per day, _Daily Guideposts or Footsteps or somethinglikethat_, easy toilet reading for one who isn't practicing singleminded focus on his actions.
One was: go two-by-two. Wherever you go, seek a companion for the way--your journey will be richer, your collaboration will plant seeds of future joy.
Some forest Buddhists praise the solitary--but then that is (in a manner) my default.
And a point of crewing on a boat was to make this more collaborative.
--
That's about where things stand now.
I'm not the best relative (by CS guest standards)--but I think in my way I'm not a bad one--I give my thoughts, wanderings, photos--they all know, I think, where to find news and notice of my exploration/foolishness, and it is something perhaps to contemplate.
I'm lucky to have these houses to wander between for the moment.
But what is the goal or purpose? Besides CS, Jonathan did ask if I had one.
A sense, of what to do.
A way, to seek.
Defining thoughts: my sister's farm: pretty, and shows her commitment to visual order (eg. books on shelf organized in order by height--but now on a grander scale: rectangles of shades of green, nicely mown--and on and on, other things related to order and placement--say of the new greenhouse erected on the green lawn. (If the focus on order is also her husband Chris's--it probably is--, two compatible folks are working well together.) She could be a designer at some point, has her own style--reminds me a bit of that fancy sewing woman's website I learned to knot my thread from.
The defining thought was, though, that my way is not that, that I'm muddling--definitely the word--a different direction.
Considering Christine's potential community in Rainbow, I had a similar feeling.
The feeling having to do with how much both sites are dependent on and affected by engines. I think.
The potential of crewing with redpill seems a step the right way.
A ten-lb baseweight pack seems a step the right way.
My daily wandering around (at least the past four days) also feels good.
Doing little, writing a lot about it, also, too.(?)
--
but since I haven't yet done what Mike M does--able to make and give away all needed with hands from local materials--stone-age--(I exaggerate)
my freedom only lasts as long as my having $$ to spend?
well, no complaints yet.
this is where things are. Will take a slow walk back to SDSU-area--no bus, no trolley--see what comes up along the way.
been layin on a bench of a table where the drifter/latero (can-getters) types hang, down the hill from the presidio, typing this. Was here first, then a few of them showed. They haven't booted me, but sit at different tables than perhaps they usually do.
--
Happy cellphone news--but won't know till I test it: the US messaging prepaid package holds in MX--so I may not have to pay $1.30 per post here once I head south.
It sounds like I may be able to get the unlock code for this phone once I've been an ATT customer for 6mos--10/16. Then if I go to Guatemala or points further south, can find another company and stay in touch.
Peace,
--
0852 -- a postal worker came up a while ago and left some food--all the other guys who were here had left. I may have a narc effect: shaved head, dingy safety vest, stripped black uniform shirt, typing on nokia e62.
0927 potatoes fried, eggs w/ cheese, ham, pancakes, butter, syrup, jam. She was nearly as round as Willie Wonka/Dahl's blueberry girl, but a pale blue. If I weren't already a diabetes and stroke risk . . .
0932 Ha! A guy more paranoid than I walked over to the spot I and probably every other has been heading to to piss. Head swiveling checking for the fuzz. I did the same but not as vigorously.
remembering reading in that native american survival skills book: many did nothing special to care for their teeth--never lost them till ate white man's food (feeling the syrup with tongue). And they got massive rates of diabetes and other isssues.
0958 after the insane breakfast, decided to walk a million miles. Headed to mission bay. May not be at Ann's tonight or next. Pack is nice and light.
Peace,
Went to look for the first Old Town -> San Ysidro trolley last night, then decided to visit couchsurfing.com (org?) to see if there were any couches in Tijuana. There's a mansion I could stay in there (that's Chay). And more my style, found a guy whose info is all in Spanish, lives with his mom and siblings and has a bit to say about "la cultura auto-destructiva" -- user eneasviaje, I think . . . photo is just eyes and forehead.
I have things to think and write about--all I ask?
Got to see some photos of my sister's/dad's/etc's farm. Very pretty--maybe someone could post the link? I think it is Chris Saywell's picasa page.
Not really any plan now. But perhaps the following:
o Study couchsurfing site a bit more
o Get pants (so I fit in better in MX), or perhaps sew the Jardine/greenpepper ones
o Get more of the maps of the Guayamas (sp?) side of Sea of Cortez (only took Baja)
o Check TJ and points south from the air, satellite view for undisturbed outdoor sleeping potential
o Since I do now have the somewhat more solid plan of crewing with redpillsailor in November, perhaps look at making more $$, perhaps though SDSU temporary services in the meantime.
o When I must go, then go. Seems it will be clear.
o read some David Foster Wallace, who Gianni told me about
Couchsurfing (CS) and a few other things raise good questions.
Were I to be a guest, there are recommendations--bring something, for one. That and not being grungy were two things different from my default.
"And what would I bring?", I got to thinking this morning. Were I like Mike M, he gives away nearly all he makes by hand (potlatch -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Potlatch [outlawed by Canada in 1885 and US]).
Perhaps I could make prints from picasaweb of photos from my last trip. Some I put on my CS profile--
Beyond that, though, there is the challenge, for me, of being social. Chay the mansion guy sounds incredible, but I might be more at home with eneasviaje.
And so then what is the purpose of wandering around? CS asks for your philosophy. The only purpose seems to be in me these days is a sort of "keep moving".
This came up while at G. Ann's earlier: a book of modern thoughts on bible verses, one per day, _Daily Guideposts or Footsteps or somethinglikethat_, easy toilet reading for one who isn't practicing singleminded focus on his actions.
One was: go two-by-two. Wherever you go, seek a companion for the way--your journey will be richer, your collaboration will plant seeds of future joy.
Some forest Buddhists praise the solitary--but then that is (in a manner) my default.
And a point of crewing on a boat was to make this more collaborative.
--
That's about where things stand now.
I'm not the best relative (by CS guest standards)--but I think in my way I'm not a bad one--I give my thoughts, wanderings, photos--they all know, I think, where to find news and notice of my exploration/foolishness, and it is something perhaps to contemplate.
I'm lucky to have these houses to wander between for the moment.
But what is the goal or purpose? Besides CS, Jonathan did ask if I had one.
A sense, of what to do.
A way, to seek.
Defining thoughts: my sister's farm: pretty, and shows her commitment to visual order (eg. books on shelf organized in order by height--but now on a grander scale: rectangles of shades of green, nicely mown--and on and on, other things related to order and placement--say of the new greenhouse erected on the green lawn. (If the focus on order is also her husband Chris's--it probably is--, two compatible folks are working well together.) She could be a designer at some point, has her own style--reminds me a bit of that fancy sewing woman's website I learned to knot my thread from.
The defining thought was, though, that my way is not that, that I'm muddling--definitely the word--a different direction.
Considering Christine's potential community in Rainbow, I had a similar feeling.
The feeling having to do with how much both sites are dependent on and affected by engines. I think.
The potential of crewing with redpill seems a step the right way.
A ten-lb baseweight pack seems a step the right way.
My daily wandering around (at least the past four days) also feels good.
Doing little, writing a lot about it, also, too.(?)
--
but since I haven't yet done what Mike M does--able to make and give away all needed with hands from local materials--stone-age--(I exaggerate)
my freedom only lasts as long as my having $$ to spend?
well, no complaints yet.
this is where things are. Will take a slow walk back to SDSU-area--no bus, no trolley--see what comes up along the way.
been layin on a bench of a table where the drifter/latero (can-getters) types hang, down the hill from the presidio, typing this. Was here first, then a few of them showed. They haven't booted me, but sit at different tables than perhaps they usually do.
--
Happy cellphone news--but won't know till I test it: the US messaging prepaid package holds in MX--so I may not have to pay $1.30 per post here once I head south.
It sounds like I may be able to get the unlock code for this phone once I've been an ATT customer for 6mos--10/16. Then if I go to Guatemala or points further south, can find another company and stay in touch.
Peace,
--
0852 -- a postal worker came up a while ago and left some food--all the other guys who were here had left. I may have a narc effect: shaved head, dingy safety vest, stripped black uniform shirt, typing on nokia e62.
0927 potatoes fried, eggs w/ cheese, ham, pancakes, butter, syrup, jam. She was nearly as round as Willie Wonka/Dahl's blueberry girl, but a pale blue. If I weren't already a diabetes and stroke risk . . .
0932 Ha! A guy more paranoid than I walked over to the spot I and probably every other has been heading to to piss. Head swiveling checking for the fuzz. I did the same but not as vigorously.
remembering reading in that native american survival skills book: many did nothing special to care for their teeth--never lost them till ate white man's food (feeling the syrup with tongue). And they got massive rates of diabetes and other isssues.
0958 after the insane breakfast, decided to walk a million miles. Headed to mission bay. May not be at Ann's tonight or next. Pack is nice and light.
Peace,
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Mexico
Well--getting a bit closer to departure time, attempting to do a bit of due diligence. Just visited with friends Jonathan and Andy and got yet another horror story. This will just be a list of notes and links.
There really is a sort of hysteria. I did travel by bicycle through MX in 2003, for at least a week. 2003-10-19 - 2003-11-10. So it was nearly a month.
Thank goodness for them!
$96, 666 miles, 20 hours on Greyhound from San Diego to Guayamas.
Ferry, Santa Rosalia (baja) to Guayamas: $55.
Even in the people's guide, walking alone on beaches not recommended.
During the bike trip, plan was to leave the border area as quick as possible--on foot this will take longer.
800km, 500 mi from border to Santa Rosalia, 50 slow days walk.
The guy I may get to crew with:
Best thing to do may be to go and start walking--leave a copy of passport here, & in a place not likely to be bothered on me. If it looks bad, feels bad, take bus to visit Michael (redpillsailor). See how that opportunity looks. Then??
Will just be working out some issues with the cell phone now--may be too expensive to use lots of data, msgs in MX unless I can unlock this phone (not likely). So may only post once per week and / or at internet cafes where also may be the only place I check email.
My feet haven't been getting less sore--could be an issue. Will watch it.
Peace,
Colin
- Kinsee Morlan's Stairs to Nowhere (TJ Culture)
- Graham Mackintosh (may email him - walked around baja years ago & I met him at the fungus fair [ sdmyco.org ] )
- Travel.state.gov on MX
There really is a sort of hysteria. I did travel by bicycle through MX in 2003, for at least a week. 2003-10-19 - 2003-11-10. So it was nearly a month.
Thank goodness for them!
$96, 666 miles, 20 hours on Greyhound from San Diego to Guayamas.
Ferry, Santa Rosalia (baja) to Guayamas: $55.
Even in the people's guide, walking alone on beaches not recommended.
During the bike trip, plan was to leave the border area as quick as possible--on foot this will take longer.
800km, 500 mi from border to Santa Rosalia, 50 slow days walk.
The guy I may get to crew with:
Best thing to do may be to go and start walking--leave a copy of passport here, & in a place not likely to be bothered on me. If it looks bad, feels bad, take bus to visit Michael (redpillsailor). See how that opportunity looks. Then??
Will just be working out some issues with the cell phone now--may be too expensive to use lots of data, msgs in MX unless I can unlock this phone (not likely). So may only post once per week and / or at internet cafes where also may be the only place I check email.
My feet haven't been getting less sore--could be an issue. Will watch it.
Peace,
Colin
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Brazilian Pepper Tree
I'm under one now, and the tangle of branches overhead and the vigor of its shoots--that is the story of the past few days, and now to present it written, linear, perhaps this will help me select the shoot that emerges from the brambled canopy, gets the light, thickens from thought to life-path.
I'm under planes taking off too, my earplugs in, resting at my Point Loma grandparents' house (where now the port district pays to soundproof windows, but they, here since ~'64 both should have their hearing aids paid for too), in the back yard, partly I wish to be outside, partly to stay out of the way of grandma's sisyphean task of getting rid of decades of stuff while caring for grandpa, perhaps waiting for his end, her release.
I'm among sound waves of "lawn care" too (all this and corresponding gas and particulates and pavements and . . .) . Distant now (come again), but fumes and ripbuzz from far side of fence just 3m away somehow stirred me from napping, wandering mind, to type here.
On the road for two nights now. 18th, Thurs, when I arrived, did not sleep that night though--eating, reading, computer, stayed up with that & swam early. By Sunday afternoon was on my way again. Walked to Church of Brethren for darshan (an experience of presence and glance which confers spiritual benefits [?]) with Brad Lancaster ( harvestingrainwater.com -- not much older than I, if he's not younger, and full of the permaculture spirit, channeling, catalyzing strongly social, political, community redesign, revisioning, transformation, change, growth in life ) and reconnection with permaculture, Food Not Lawns friends, some of whom I was nearly certain would be there. Marc Bailey in particular I'd been meaning to visit, he was there--rode his bike though, so I had two long socal urban walks that day to get to his permaculture homestead that night.
Brothers Stream and Vu (rain) [for real!] from Thay Nhat Hanh's Deerpark (Escondido) and Blue Cliff (NY State) monasteries were there as well--this is one sun-seeking shoot of the pepper tree in my mind (joining them)--and Stream had read my posts on TNH/Deerpark at carfreeuniverse, and I'd listened to the podcasts he'd introduced, and followed the solar, composting, carfree projects at Deerpark he'd had a hand in. We spoke enough that many good questions I'd had were touched--Froglessness, a Vietnamese (?) concept, I learned of: not jumping away when you're put in a spot, and, of course, : they move you once you have it, and so Brother Stream came from Plum Village (France) to the US (I think he may originally be from New England).
Christine was there, a surprise!, we helped organize a primitive/origin/aboriginal skills gathering at her place in Rainbow (North SD County) in May (? see sdprim.blogspot.com )--Marc had been there, Mike M, Jasmine--all who have been what for me approach long-time friends. Christine, once considering moving to Cascadia, may be staying where she is, finding others to share/have community on the land, and Marc may be interested--and this--"intentional community" at least, is another shoot--
Paul M, Julia D, Ian--FNLers I saw there. Marcia Boruta and Brad Lancaster made it happen--thank you! (and will I help do that for others?)
Marc's place: in 6 months or less: chickens, higher-than-head banana trees, all greywater shunted to garden (the banana pit), diverse baby orchard, peppers, tomatoes, eggplant, chard, and--it's a rental, and I found out for the first time he never intends to be a lonely owner, but an intentional communitarian. Mostly, though, it's in what could be the most pleasant spot I've experienced in SD: on the edge of a large golden meadow; highways, planes, 'copters--ubiquitous SD/SoCal presences--kept their distance while I was there and his neighbors used a rake (human-powered, engine-free), while I was there.
As singular as his library, and I should probably have given much of mine to him, rather than away, but anyhow: the community seed is strong with Marc, he may be able to pull it off/help it coalesce in SoCal--as singular as his library: _Survival Skills of Native California_ by Paul D Campbell, 1999.
That book, in the little time I had with it: life and vision-changing: how indians traveled (the nature of their trails), ate, cared for themselves, made things--all questions that came to me while out there, and many possibilities I never considered--such as how a wood rat/other small game would be prepared and eaten, & yellowjacket larvae, and on and on.
_Survival Skills of Native California_ by Paul D Campbell. 1999.
Related to this--I called Mike M. He'd invited me to an origin skills gathering, in Oregon (Echoes in Time?), but I wanted to wander the forests, not hitch so far. It would have been good--and he invites me to LA (Marina Del Ray), but leery of LA, & not sure, never sure? about travel and visiting, haven't made it yet (this must be another pepper tree shoot--do I get up there?). I nearly visited on the way back south from Kernville, but had only emailed, not called--
We'll he's been preparing to go to sea, and he would have some suggestions. When I called he was making some shoes (from yucca?). Plans to make a black wool blanket from wool he shears later this year at a shearing he knows about. Will be processing acorns (and on and on). May go to sea documentless, as most of the world must, were they to go. Wants an old wooden ship--one that works, not just for show, for schoolkids. Fasting for Ramadan (he has perhaps a Jewish last name), studying Arabic, seeking to join Bedouins. I don't doubt he'll make it. He's passionate, enthusiastic, has learnt a ton already, teaches a ton (@ The Garden in Santa Monica). But I know how easy it is to say from the outside, "I don't doubt he'll do it" when on the inside realizing a radical vision (just figuring out what it might be) is (perhaps) ever uncertain, unsettling, but we so often present a different side when sharing with enthusiastic friends.
Mike, and others like him--every one I've mentioned?--bring me the question: why am I not yet teaching, sharing, helping create, as they are? Will I ever? Will my work be more asynchronous than theirs: doing things, then writing about it, contributing somehow that way?
Another pepper tree shoot: a TV News reporter emailed me (from carfreeuniverse) asking for an interview about what was happening in SD for World Carfree Day on 9/22. I got the email too late, and anyway didn't know of anything going on, but passed it on to the carfreesd list--it could inspire someone else for next year.
They locked a gate along a favorite walk route out where I used to stay, near the fig tree I was visiting when I got that email. It is possible to climb the fence. To cut/hacksaw the lock. To organize.
Despair -> acceptance -> greatfulness
I walked west after that. Got my old shirt out of the trash as I passed by the house I used to stay in. I've a black shirt now. Worried about survivability in the desert, grabbed the old one. Can toss it later. Also, took frame off pack. Hope eyelets will hold this way. Walking down El Cajon, spent $20 at World Foods on tapioca, seaweed, dried clam, squid, anchovy, mushroom. More than I need to carry, but comforting? And have 2lbs dried potatoes and 6oz parmesan. . .
Eventually past the garden (behind the chainlink fence) of Birney Elementary and parent Mindy (we met at a workday organized by Marcia for this garden) thought I was Marc B.
Later I got to visit another FNL friend whose place I realized I'd be near, then went to sleep in the canyon near Mission Hills Park. New, quieter police helicopter flew twice right overhead, a glowing red light, related to infra-red camera recording, pulsing like the heartbeat of an earthworm under the scope, or that of the embryo chick, but, with its shape, resembling a guppy with a glowing heart in a dark aquarium. They didn't bother to floodlight me. And of course this is made up.
Up early with light (houses look over this place, path is near), went down trail to reorganize clothing, do the few warm-ups, only one nice woman with unleashed dogs having to deal with my odd siting. Walked then to presidio by notable fig, then, past and through new developments (used the nice toilet at DancePlace[?]) and stores (one a Vons with a wine vault) at the (former Naval Training Ctr) NTC Promenade, eventually to here, met grandparents, and did a bit more research into crewing on a boat or ship, came out here under pepper, planes, "tenderness for the lawn (explosion-powered), the internal combustion engine, the American Dream, in a city where a bay (Mission) was built for thunder boat racing--the paper informs--and the boat, the last one, that uses the old pistion aircraft engine (too many moving parts, always breaks down), is the true sound of America, like a tank, they know you're coming. . . the newer turbines just aren't as loud," and blue sky.
Thank Pynchon . . . bla-me.
--
Now?
Cut is the branch of the life path of living near SDSU/the Kroc Ctr, or it may be (Grandma Ann would let me, not sure if I would let me). Staying here where I am now not tenable for long. Take time to apply to the cruise ships, to get six months' sea time, then go with military sealift command (as civilian) for more training? Walk to marinas and look for boats to crew on? Ask in at Driscoll's Boat Yard (~relatives) for suggestions?
Catch first trolley to Tijuana, begin walking south? Check email at cafés on occasion to see if guy in marina near Hermosillo (San Carlos) emails back?
I'm avoiding going to TJ and walking south.
I don't know how ready I am to crew on someone else's boat. I'd need to meet them. Doubt I'm ready to be a cruise ship employee--work 70hrs/week. Maybe would get into communications for military sealift. . . .communications sounded interesting at any rate.
Doubt I'm ready to do any sort of formal seeking, petitioning, applying to someone else to give me something to do . . .
My feet may be a bit sore from walking.
Time to quit this. Guessing I'll begin walking south in Mexico from TJ early Thursday 9/25. Will I?
Walking seems simplest: get up, walk, meet who's there, leave when you feel like it, find food, sleep, continue. When money low, do something different. May be more likely to ask around at marinas in MX than here?
[Just got a response from the guy near Hermosillo! That may be enough of a contact to get me on my way--]
Peace,
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Ways of suffering at sea? Lessons, Resup
2008-09-18-0750 Decision-free bliss of the bus ride.
Out of the forest, where the only working people the rangers--some in a cabin in the woods the whole summer--and the horsepackers, to: [this, bus drivers]--
Did fairly well avoiding "exit fever" rush during final days. Much time contemplating what next. Avoid SD at any cost? Monterey? SF? Stay in Lake Isabella while researching merchant marine?
Seem to have settled on going to sea, getting job on biggest ship possible, rather than Mexico, for now.
The last week, wrote little. One down day: annoyance with "rangers" (permit asking, food storage lecturing--no canisters required on this section but required to hang or locker food) in Sequoia NP, bugs. Last two days in drylands along the Kern, trees increasingly rare--fishing people, expeditions, and coming to the road two newbie campers, Cambodian (bad guess) shared meal of prawns, corn, nectarine, tangerine, pork kabob--John from OC, out of work programmer with 1 year unemployment, and Keyanna (Minnesota).
The following, if any, if it matters, lessons from trip. Some clichés, but ones I'd forgotten.
(1) I can do it. I can get body to work and eat in a way that lets me walk ~20 miles/day, day after day, up and down mts.
(2) Wherever I go, I'll suffer. Much self-induced.
This last week, no escape--not much power to listen to audiobooks, only a little reading of Calvino, _Cosmicomics_, English translation (a genre-synthesis of modern scientific creation lingo and ancient creation myth)--so watched mind run and run. Memories of interaction with others that came up were often not joyful. Hence desire to avoid SD, people jobs. But remembering good interaction now: Rbec, Rhugel, etc, friendly Lake Isabella bus driver, guys on bus. Challenge Course work perhaps too meaningful and overstimulating? Too much time thinking about it when I planned programs.
Ah, prayers for collaboration were answered: help plan socal permaculture gathering, and a Frank Cook email: come to next rainbow gathering in NM. But why am I not doing those?
But the main point: wherever I'll go I'll suffer--in monastery, in forest, etc. So why try to be as comfortable as possible (that will never be realized: one of my mental representations of that is being a bum near Monterey)? Why not suffer in an interesting way?
(3) Will to nomadism has been suppressed. Mark Twain noted this (_Roughing It_?): ~"humans have nomadic tendencies: nomadism has nearly been trained out of some white men but never the indian." The neo-agricultural/permacultural ideal, the care for place and vow of stability which I attempted to sort of embrace, and the ideal of owning land, real estate--may repress this (though some leading permaculturists are among the most nomadic). Well, I may not adopt car or plane travel-- but ships? To wake up in a new place each morning? Ever moving?
Proust, et al: changes of seeing, of mind, not place. Well let's have both: read and move. _Cosmicomics_ changes how I see the granite cliffs I'd not have otherwise seen.
Suffering-- whenever I wish things were different than how they are rather than being engaged in doing something: "how much longer must I deal with this trail?" vs. engagement in dealing with it, vs engagement in writing this.
(4) Trail modulation/variety. After the shock of Forester Pass (highest point on PCT/John Muir Trail), I desired long, flat, forested, temperate, direct trails. On my Non-Muir Trail route south I got plenty of that and came to appreciate a trail, a day of walking, that has ups and downs, views and forest, direct + roundabout, varieties of ecosystems, varieties of company, and so on.
All that vs. stasis, sameness, comfort. Which I confess I've spent a lot of my life pointing myself towards, somewhat consciously (head south for warmer winter), and unconsciously.
--
That's about it!
A point for contemplation: the coming to some sort of resolve about what to do next in this past week. A simple retrospective view is that going to sea offers more variety than would either wandering in Mexico or living houseless near Monterey, two ideas that were there. I know I'll suffer with the diesel fumes in the marinas, dockyards, motoring ships, with the shifts (four on, four off, whatever they are), with some of the people I'll be with--we'll see.
I still feel the monastery would be perhaps the purest path--not sure what that means--but maybe next life?
If the name of the blog changes to "Colin's sea blog: ways of suffering at sea" that's what happened. Though I won't focus just or even primarily on suffering. Probably would still focus on feeling fulfillment.
and who knows how far I'll get with this idea--[and I wouldn't be at sea all the time, just between land adventures.]
--
here's the last resupply list, which worked pretty well (combined with what I had left from previous resupplies--such as the dried potatoes, bisquick, seaweed. Even so, all this lasted me only ~six days. I ate to be content, to recover, and to be motivated to move -- rarely was walking hungry.):
Lodgepole Market & Gift 9/11/2008
1 natural peanut butter ~18 oz 3.89
6 eggs 1.39
1 at least 16oz flour tortillas 1.79 (binged, eaten that pm)
1 2lb corn tortilla 1.89
2 apples 1.89
1 banana .39
1 iceberg lettuce 1.49 (had no cabbage)
2 8oz philadelphia cream cheese 6.40
2 3oz " 2.80 (cream cheese worked well and did not seem to go bad, and for me, not binged)
1 14oz minute rice 3.29
12 3oz armour potted meat 5.83 -- a sort of cat food for people. Kept me going. Excessively salty.
5 3.75oz roasted,salted sunflower seeds 6.45
1 42oz quaker minute oats 6.09
1 8oz organic spinach fettucini 2.89
1 3oz kraft parmesan $3
1 cliff bar mojo mixed nuts bar (nearly worthless) 1.89
3 3.75oz sardines in soy oil 4.17 (well worth it--a new staple--fat and protein, not something I'd overeat/binge)
Total: $55.43
when I got out: got lots of bananas, apples, sunflower seeds, cabbage, carrots, 3 tins of 3.75 oz herring. $10
re wild food:
I ate too many elderberries or something at one point: not sick, but very laxative.
Loved the dried rosehips.
Did pick a pound? of hazel nuts/filberts, and eventually cracked and ate them.
Ate bunches of dandelion leaves raw every so often. Get desperate for greens, fruit fiber after a bit.
Summary: a variety of fat, protein, carbs for each eating time.
I didn't get any/much thinner on this trip--partly because of the free hiker food at Muir Trail & Vermilion.
Peace,
Out of the forest, where the only working people the rangers--some in a cabin in the woods the whole summer--and the horsepackers, to: [this, bus drivers]--
Did fairly well avoiding "exit fever" rush during final days. Much time contemplating what next. Avoid SD at any cost? Monterey? SF? Stay in Lake Isabella while researching merchant marine?
Seem to have settled on going to sea, getting job on biggest ship possible, rather than Mexico, for now.
The last week, wrote little. One down day: annoyance with "rangers" (permit asking, food storage lecturing--no canisters required on this section but required to hang or locker food) in Sequoia NP, bugs. Last two days in drylands along the Kern, trees increasingly rare--fishing people, expeditions, and coming to the road two newbie campers, Cambodian (bad guess) shared meal of prawns, corn, nectarine, tangerine, pork kabob--John from OC, out of work programmer with 1 year unemployment, and Keyanna (Minnesota).
The following, if any, if it matters, lessons from trip. Some clichés, but ones I'd forgotten.
(1) I can do it. I can get body to work and eat in a way that lets me walk ~20 miles/day, day after day, up and down mts.
(2) Wherever I go, I'll suffer. Much self-induced.
This last week, no escape--not much power to listen to audiobooks, only a little reading of Calvino, _Cosmicomics_, English translation (a genre-synthesis of modern scientific creation lingo and ancient creation myth)--so watched mind run and run. Memories of interaction with others that came up were often not joyful. Hence desire to avoid SD, people jobs. But remembering good interaction now: Rbec, Rhugel, etc, friendly Lake Isabella bus driver, guys on bus. Challenge Course work perhaps too meaningful and overstimulating? Too much time thinking about it when I planned programs.
Ah, prayers for collaboration were answered: help plan socal permaculture gathering, and a Frank Cook email: come to next rainbow gathering in NM. But why am I not doing those?
But the main point: wherever I'll go I'll suffer--in monastery, in forest, etc. So why try to be as comfortable as possible (that will never be realized: one of my mental representations of that is being a bum near Monterey)? Why not suffer in an interesting way?
(3) Will to nomadism has been suppressed. Mark Twain noted this (_Roughing It_?): ~"humans have nomadic tendencies: nomadism has nearly been trained out of some white men but never the indian." The neo-agricultural/permacultural ideal, the care for place and vow of stability which I attempted to sort of embrace, and the ideal of owning land, real estate--may repress this (though some leading permaculturists are among the most nomadic). Well, I may not adopt car or plane travel-- but ships? To wake up in a new place each morning? Ever moving?
Proust, et al: changes of seeing, of mind, not place. Well let's have both: read and move. _Cosmicomics_ changes how I see the granite cliffs I'd not have otherwise seen.
Suffering-- whenever I wish things were different than how they are rather than being engaged in doing something: "how much longer must I deal with this trail?" vs. engagement in dealing with it, vs engagement in writing this.
(4) Trail modulation/variety. After the shock of Forester Pass (highest point on PCT/John Muir Trail), I desired long, flat, forested, temperate, direct trails. On my Non-Muir Trail route south I got plenty of that and came to appreciate a trail, a day of walking, that has ups and downs, views and forest, direct + roundabout, varieties of ecosystems, varieties of company, and so on.
All that vs. stasis, sameness, comfort. Which I confess I've spent a lot of my life pointing myself towards, somewhat consciously (head south for warmer winter), and unconsciously.
--
That's about it!
A point for contemplation: the coming to some sort of resolve about what to do next in this past week. A simple retrospective view is that going to sea offers more variety than would either wandering in Mexico or living houseless near Monterey, two ideas that were there. I know I'll suffer with the diesel fumes in the marinas, dockyards, motoring ships, with the shifts (four on, four off, whatever they are), with some of the people I'll be with--we'll see.
I still feel the monastery would be perhaps the purest path--not sure what that means--but maybe next life?
If the name of the blog changes to "Colin's sea blog: ways of suffering at sea" that's what happened. Though I won't focus just or even primarily on suffering. Probably would still focus on feeling fulfillment.
and who knows how far I'll get with this idea--[and I wouldn't be at sea all the time, just between land adventures.]
--
here's the last resupply list, which worked pretty well (combined with what I had left from previous resupplies--such as the dried potatoes, bisquick, seaweed. Even so, all this lasted me only ~six days. I ate to be content, to recover, and to be motivated to move -- rarely was walking hungry.):
Lodgepole Market & Gift 9/11/2008
1 natural peanut butter ~18 oz 3.89
6 eggs 1.39
1 at least 16oz flour tortillas 1.79 (binged, eaten that pm)
1 2lb corn tortilla 1.89
2 apples 1.89
1 banana .39
1 iceberg lettuce 1.49 (had no cabbage)
2 8oz philadelphia cream cheese 6.40
2 3oz " 2.80 (cream cheese worked well and did not seem to go bad, and for me, not binged)
1 14oz minute rice 3.29
12 3oz armour potted meat 5.83 -- a sort of cat food for people. Kept me going. Excessively salty.
5 3.75oz roasted,salted sunflower seeds 6.45
1 42oz quaker minute oats 6.09
1 8oz organic spinach fettucini 2.89
1 3oz kraft parmesan $3
1 cliff bar mojo mixed nuts bar (nearly worthless) 1.89
3 3.75oz sardines in soy oil 4.17 (well worth it--a new staple--fat and protein, not something I'd overeat/binge)
Total: $55.43
when I got out: got lots of bananas, apples, sunflower seeds, cabbage, carrots, 3 tins of 3.75 oz herring. $10
re wild food:
I ate too many elderberries or something at one point: not sick, but very laxative.
Loved the dried rosehips.
Did pick a pound? of hazel nuts/filberts, and eventually cracked and ate them.
Ate bunches of dandelion leaves raw every so often. Get desperate for greens, fruit fiber after a bit.
Summary: a variety of fat, protein, carbs for each eating time.
I didn't get any/much thinner on this trip--partly because of the free hiker food at Muir Trail & Vermilion.
Peace,
Thursday, September 11, 2008
low fruit, Proust avoid, Ret2HiSierra, ?
2008-09-11-1732 yay--a full-on connection. Different from last twitter post, I headed south through Giant Forest. _There_ I found my extensive grove of giant sequoia. But unlike the coast redwoods, it is a mixed forest--the coast redwoods can reproduce without seeds (asexually?), these cannot.
I'm headed south on the High Sierra trail now, and will take this to the Kern River & Golden Trout wilderness and probably head right back out (to Kernville) where I started if my food lasts long enough. I could be out in as little as one week, but I hope to be here at least two more. As Jardine notes, quality of food is key to wanting to stay out here. In the past half hour I've been thinking about other forests or ecosystems where I might have an easier time. But I did just chow down on some elderberries. . . eventually I may type in the list from today's resupply. Plenty of fat, carb, protein, but not a lot of fruit or anything that excites me a lot. The only mistake perhaps: the flour tortillas which I've eaten already. I also contemplated the bears--they're big, they get enough to eat out here. . . anyways. If I could get more lentils to soak, decent rice maybe--but I haven't wanted to hitch anywhere. Also, things are starting to shut/gear down for the winter.
Thanks Mike and Phillip from Ohio for sharing your site with me!
That's about it for now. I've been having fun with the camera--some photos of the Sherman Tree and the architecture around it, among other pics. Will comment on the photo when it is up, I hope--as a temple to a tree--it works. The design of viewers' approaches to the tree is apparent & well done.
Things have been a bit blah-er out here recently, but also times of a deepish love for the experience. Never sure what's next. Tropical fruit-bearing climates? Work on a ship or oil rig? More or less the same-old: how to make this more collaborative? to avoid ruts? and a half-wondering why I'm not doing anything particularly eco, beyond exploring a possible sort of path of less consumption.
No incoming emails, and not sure I want to fire up opera mini to see if there may be any input from the cyber world waiting for me.
Yesterday, was a storm with so much hail it looked like it had snowed--fortunately I was only ever on the edge of it and needed only warmer clothes, not raingear, walking through the snowy aftermath.
Time to head on, I suppose. Read some scifi yesterday and day before--_Ubik_ and _Spook Country_, but was sort of avoiding more meaningful stuff like Proust and Italo Calvino. This may have contributed to the blahness. And I haven't had enough batteries to listen to some audiobooks--
I did have a nice unfreezing lake to swim in yesterday!
Peace,
I'm headed south on the High Sierra trail now, and will take this to the Kern River & Golden Trout wilderness and probably head right back out (to Kernville) where I started if my food lasts long enough. I could be out in as little as one week, but I hope to be here at least two more. As Jardine notes, quality of food is key to wanting to stay out here. In the past half hour I've been thinking about other forests or ecosystems where I might have an easier time. But I did just chow down on some elderberries. . . eventually I may type in the list from today's resupply. Plenty of fat, carb, protein, but not a lot of fruit or anything that excites me a lot. The only mistake perhaps: the flour tortillas which I've eaten already. I also contemplated the bears--they're big, they get enough to eat out here. . . anyways. If I could get more lentils to soak, decent rice maybe--but I haven't wanted to hitch anywhere. Also, things are starting to shut/gear down for the winter.
Thanks Mike and Phillip from Ohio for sharing your site with me!
That's about it for now. I've been having fun with the camera--some photos of the Sherman Tree and the architecture around it, among other pics. Will comment on the photo when it is up, I hope--as a temple to a tree--it works. The design of viewers' approaches to the tree is apparent & well done.
Things have been a bit blah-er out here recently, but also times of a deepish love for the experience. Never sure what's next. Tropical fruit-bearing climates? Work on a ship or oil rig? More or less the same-old: how to make this more collaborative? to avoid ruts? and a half-wondering why I'm not doing anything particularly eco, beyond exploring a possible sort of path of less consumption.
No incoming emails, and not sure I want to fire up opera mini to see if there may be any input from the cyber world waiting for me.
Yesterday, was a storm with so much hail it looked like it had snowed--fortunately I was only ever on the edge of it and needed only warmer clothes, not raingear, walking through the snowy aftermath.
Time to head on, I suppose. Read some scifi yesterday and day before--_Ubik_ and _Spook Country_, but was sort of avoiding more meaningful stuff like Proust and Italo Calvino. This may have contributed to the blahness. And I haven't had enough batteries to listen to some audiobooks--
I did have a nice unfreezing lake to swim in yesterday!
Peace,
inertia, ambiguity . . . dream
2008-09-09-0713 I'm writing--don't feel like walking right away, walked till 830 or 930 last night in the halfmoonlight along a narrow, unstriped, paved, dead-end road, deserted but for a few cows.
What the story of the cows is I'm curious--I can't imagine how they're all rounded up, and maybe they are free cows. There seems to be an odd one or small group nearly every where making trails, leaving cowpies.
The two bushwhacks yesterday went ok, and there are no more coming up that I can see--a relief. I fear encountering impenetrable brush and cliffs. Haven't seen any poison oak for two days now (>5000'). I felt not-at-ease yesterday evening until I made it from the closed-to-public-travel OHV road to Landslide Grove up to this paved road here upon which a car may travel at least once or so per day (zero so far).
--
Ambiguity: been thinking more about ambiguity avoidance as a reason why I/we do or keep doing many things.
A basic ambiguity many of us deal with is: what should I do with my attention? An existential issue.
My itching poison oak/urishol(?) rash--sometimes my attention has been focused on itching. Interesting it is how attention can move from one patch to another, only one patch asking for attention at a time. But at some point I consider that I'm scratching a patch because it feels good, sort of, and because I don't have anything more compelling to do at the moment.
I see a similar action in eating, reading, walking, and what else?-- I continue doing these things because a compelling reason to stop has not occurred to me yet, and were I to stop, I'd have to wonder what to do next.
There is also the idea of letting something run its course. I don't want to walk just yet, but after feeling some completion writing here, I probably will. If I had nothing to write, I bet I'd read a while, then walk. Or sew a while.
Last night I played a bit with staying in ambiguity as a sort of meditation or stilling technique. Instead of using a positive instruction such as, "focus on breathing as felt near the belly" or "cycle attention through body parts, never lingering", I would note any seeking of attention/mind for something to do, and rather than allowing the action (scratching, eating peanut butter), would attempt to hold attention in an unfocused, un-acted-upon state until I tired of that or until something too compelling came along (I need to piss).
So, does this leave me with any great breakthroughs in self-management for more fulfilling living?
By now I have eaten all my 16.3 oz of peanut butter, and were it in the small ~3oz packets I got at Muir Trail Ranch, I probably would still have three packets left.
I may not have scratched as much--not by attempting to resist the temptation, but by noting that the mind is just trying to avoid the ambiguity of having nothing to do--laying in the dark, not too sleepy, not wanting to read--and deciding to attempt to prolong the situation of attention having no focus.
Possibly I can develop the practice of checking in while eating, reading, scratching, walking, writing, talking: am I avoiding ambiguity, or does my continuing this action serve in some way?
Who knows.
--
Last, I had a wonderful dream. The location was San Diego, but no SD I know--it would perhaps be on a back street of one of the more dense, walkable areas.
I came across a massive exercise or performance of "streets renaissance"/bike happening type activity, though bikes were but a minor part. A marching band or multiple armies of bands were all converging toward one highschool-type building. I was near only one group of dancers/musicians/costumed performers, but had the impression of far more. This was daytime. A huge part of the converging effect was due to wires, really only one set, perhaps, of seven or so parallel wires strung overhead from somewhere angling downhill toward the campus--and down these wires rolled people whose heads and outstretched arms wore airplane costumes.
It seemed to be a rehearsal, and during a pause I was able to praise or ask a question of a nearby director, a beaming young woman. She was joyful with my amazement and eventually I found my way into the campus of what I found to be a performing arts school. I had my little camera and took some pictures of the fantastic scenes.
One was of a musical performance/ rehearsal, a roman toga type guy singing (well, with great presence) in reaction to something (others of similar costume were nearby) in a hallway I happened to walk along.
One was of a cafe, victorian style, with costumed customers, next to a merry-go-round, with costumed riders.
Another happening later: as I walked away I approached a street crossing where at least two students were playing drunk bums in makeup and costume, crossing, or not really crossing the street.
What kind of school was this? Seems more like a collaborative workshop for practice of massive public performance art.
Well, what a vision, and another dream to wonder at where the sleep-mind comes up with these sets and scenarios resembling nothing, perhaps only new combinations of elements?, known in my life.
0854
Peace,
What the story of the cows is I'm curious--I can't imagine how they're all rounded up, and maybe they are free cows. There seems to be an odd one or small group nearly every where making trails, leaving cowpies.
The two bushwhacks yesterday went ok, and there are no more coming up that I can see--a relief. I fear encountering impenetrable brush and cliffs. Haven't seen any poison oak for two days now (>5000'). I felt not-at-ease yesterday evening until I made it from the closed-to-public-travel OHV road to Landslide Grove up to this paved road here upon which a car may travel at least once or so per day (zero so far).
--
Ambiguity: been thinking more about ambiguity avoidance as a reason why I/we do or keep doing many things.
A basic ambiguity many of us deal with is: what should I do with my attention? An existential issue.
My itching poison oak/urishol(?) rash--sometimes my attention has been focused on itching. Interesting it is how attention can move from one patch to another, only one patch asking for attention at a time. But at some point I consider that I'm scratching a patch because it feels good, sort of, and because I don't have anything more compelling to do at the moment.
I see a similar action in eating, reading, walking, and what else?-- I continue doing these things because a compelling reason to stop has not occurred to me yet, and were I to stop, I'd have to wonder what to do next.
There is also the idea of letting something run its course. I don't want to walk just yet, but after feeling some completion writing here, I probably will. If I had nothing to write, I bet I'd read a while, then walk. Or sew a while.
Last night I played a bit with staying in ambiguity as a sort of meditation or stilling technique. Instead of using a positive instruction such as, "focus on breathing as felt near the belly" or "cycle attention through body parts, never lingering", I would note any seeking of attention/mind for something to do, and rather than allowing the action (scratching, eating peanut butter), would attempt to hold attention in an unfocused, un-acted-upon state until I tired of that or until something too compelling came along (I need to piss).
So, does this leave me with any great breakthroughs in self-management for more fulfilling living?
By now I have eaten all my 16.3 oz of peanut butter, and were it in the small ~3oz packets I got at Muir Trail Ranch, I probably would still have three packets left.
I may not have scratched as much--not by attempting to resist the temptation, but by noting that the mind is just trying to avoid the ambiguity of having nothing to do--laying in the dark, not too sleepy, not wanting to read--and deciding to attempt to prolong the situation of attention having no focus.
Possibly I can develop the practice of checking in while eating, reading, scratching, walking, writing, talking: am I avoiding ambiguity, or does my continuing this action serve in some way?
Who knows.
--
Last, I had a wonderful dream. The location was San Diego, but no SD I know--it would perhaps be on a back street of one of the more dense, walkable areas.
I came across a massive exercise or performance of "streets renaissance"/bike happening type activity, though bikes were but a minor part. A marching band or multiple armies of bands were all converging toward one highschool-type building. I was near only one group of dancers/musicians/costumed performers, but had the impression of far more. This was daytime. A huge part of the converging effect was due to wires, really only one set, perhaps, of seven or so parallel wires strung overhead from somewhere angling downhill toward the campus--and down these wires rolled people whose heads and outstretched arms wore airplane costumes.
It seemed to be a rehearsal, and during a pause I was able to praise or ask a question of a nearby director, a beaming young woman. She was joyful with my amazement and eventually I found my way into the campus of what I found to be a performing arts school. I had my little camera and took some pictures of the fantastic scenes.
One was of a musical performance/ rehearsal, a roman toga type guy singing (well, with great presence) in reaction to something (others of similar costume were nearby) in a hallway I happened to walk along.
One was of a cafe, victorian style, with costumed customers, next to a merry-go-round, with costumed riders.
Another happening later: as I walked away I approached a street crossing where at least two students were playing drunk bums in makeup and costume, crossing, or not really crossing the street.
What kind of school was this? Seems more like a collaborative workshop for practice of massive public performance art.
Well, what a vision, and another dream to wonder at where the sleep-mind comes up with these sets and scenarios resembling nothing, perhaps only new combinations of elements?, known in my life.
0854
Peace,
moon about half full [acorns]
[addenda, 2008-09-08-0728: all sorts of berries are now ripe, and bear shit,smelling sweet, filled with them. I also picked up and peeled some white oak acorns I hope I'll have the industry to process.
I'm walking along a paved road as I type--loving this road: no brush to scrape against, as long as no cars, as now.
Data entry from resupply at Grant Grove Market:
guiding principles: some heavy fresh stuff to be eaten sooner. Diverse but not likely to be binged on options for carbs, fat, protein at each eating time. Price.
2 apples @ .79 ea
2 armour potted meat @ .70 ea
1 armour vienna sausage @ 1.09
2 barbie poptarts pkg of 12 @ $1.99 ea (on sale and Yogi?, I think, mentioned poptarts)
1 big can fruit (to be eaten there, on sale) @ .89
3 ~13oz instant potatoes @2.29 ea
1 bisquick 10oz? @ 2.39
1 sm pkg sunflower seeds, roasted, salted @1.29
6 eggs @1.29
1 its it vanilla ice cream @.99 (eaten there)
10oz cheddar @$6
2 potatoes @ 1.19 ea (charged for 1)
1 skippy extra chunky peanut butter @2.89
2 7oz mahtma spanish rice @1.09 ea
3 7oz starkist chunk light tuna pouch @2.89 ea
2 frozen chicken burrito @ .49 ea (eaten there)
3 large yellow onion @ .69 ea
total 46.51
--
so far the only mistake may be the poptarts as by this AM I've eaten them all--we'll see. Peace.
]
2008-09-07-2037 a good and hard day. I wasn't far from Lake Sequoia, actually, maybe only a mile. I was tired, dirty, hungry, thirsty. The lake is a YMCA camp, but it is possible to walk in, as long as you don't go where campers are. But there are signs. . . I was sort of walking on eggshells/crackly leaves. Found a spring eventually. Further on found a hillside in the sun, set out solar charger, went down to creek to rinse off finally--clothes, poison oak rash in the very cold water. Cooked breakfast: freeze-dried lasagna, seaweed, dried pepper, tesco yorkshire pudding/pancake dough congealed a bit. Felt a bit better, but flies were annoying, and food uncertainty nagging, and decided to move on.
That led to a bit of bushwhacking which I had had enough of and was very tired of. . . my energy wasn't the best. After a while (I had walked through a shrub which left me studded with sticky seeds--a variant on the velcro ones I had earlier been accreting and at least as painful to remove without scissors from leghair, and worse, they then stick to fingers. I do need to make those nylon shell pants--) I sat and cooked the last of my food: two more freeze-drieds (chili, spaghetti) + seaweed + pepper and read a bit of _Mason & Dixon_. Shortly after continuing on from this break I found, thank goodness, a maintained, used, and unovergrown foot trail which went up to overlook Lake Sequoia, and then went down to the east, the way I wanted to go.
Then I saw my first giant sequoias! I have yet to see them in such densities as the coast redwoods grow--maybe these sequoias need the mixed forest.
I was tired, the route seemed to take much longer than I'd expect from the map, and the roads were all over the place, and I wasn't sure which way to go. After a bit of wavering, I continued east-ish. Finally, my first parked vehicle sighting, then people--I arrived in Grant Grove.
A friendly ranger there by the Grant tree helped me plan out my potential route. There are small stores here, Cedar Grove (to the east, near the end of 180), and Lodgepole (south). Eventually I began to walk again, intending to find the store, hoping it might be good, and open. Again a maze of roads and trails (assumption is every one is going back and knows from where they started--this wouldn't be so hard, but there were no other walkers). I made it. The store was open, good enough, and I resupplied, so far it seems, more or less gracefully. I may give details later, but don't feel like doing the data entry now, just this: - ~$46. And I got through to my mom (has been an ongoing project)--she was able to call in to the payphones on the porch where I was eating and depackaging food.
I am partway up to Panoramic Point and Park Ridge. If the ridge is not too cliff-like, I should be able to get down to an OHV road, and then all is good, assuming the roads & trails on the map between there and Lodgepole exist and are in good shape. Else, I'll need to backtrack and try another possibility further north. A map with topo lines could be handy. I could also hitch various places, or walk along the highway, but would rather not.
Well I'm in no rush, know where to get food, and Lodgepole looks fairly close, and I may have a comfortable week's worth of food, and I seem to be high and south enough now that bugs, temp, and forest fire smoke are not making me want to move on. . . no rush. That fire is around the middle fork of the Kings River, and they've been letting it burn since July apparently, in Kings Cyn NP, but in the national forest part they try to put it out.
I never made it into the visitor's center. Maybe if I have to backtrack I'll stop in then. Tomorrow I might not move much, and do more reading and sewing/mending.
They have mirrors around here, and I have got to looking rather wild.
after Lodgepole, then perhaps to Mineral King, then through Golden Trout, south to Manter Mdw, and out the way I came in p'haps.
2204
Peace,
I'm walking along a paved road as I type--loving this road: no brush to scrape against, as long as no cars, as now.
Data entry from resupply at Grant Grove Market:
guiding principles: some heavy fresh stuff to be eaten sooner. Diverse but not likely to be binged on options for carbs, fat, protein at each eating time. Price.
2 apples @ .79 ea
2 armour potted meat @ .70 ea
1 armour vienna sausage @ 1.09
2 barbie poptarts pkg of 12 @ $1.99 ea (on sale and Yogi?, I think, mentioned poptarts)
1 big can fruit (to be eaten there, on sale) @ .89
3 ~13oz instant potatoes @2.29 ea
1 bisquick 10oz? @ 2.39
1 sm pkg sunflower seeds, roasted, salted @1.29
6 eggs @1.29
1 its it vanilla ice cream @.99 (eaten there)
10oz cheddar @$6
2 potatoes @ 1.19 ea (charged for 1)
1 skippy extra chunky peanut butter @2.89
2 7oz mahtma spanish rice @1.09 ea
3 7oz starkist chunk light tuna pouch @2.89 ea
2 frozen chicken burrito @ .49 ea (eaten there)
3 large yellow onion @ .69 ea
total 46.51
--
so far the only mistake may be the poptarts as by this AM I've eaten them all--we'll see. Peace.
]
2008-09-07-2037 a good and hard day. I wasn't far from Lake Sequoia, actually, maybe only a mile. I was tired, dirty, hungry, thirsty. The lake is a YMCA camp, but it is possible to walk in, as long as you don't go where campers are. But there are signs. . . I was sort of walking on eggshells/crackly leaves. Found a spring eventually. Further on found a hillside in the sun, set out solar charger, went down to creek to rinse off finally--clothes, poison oak rash in the very cold water. Cooked breakfast: freeze-dried lasagna, seaweed, dried pepper, tesco yorkshire pudding/pancake dough congealed a bit. Felt a bit better, but flies were annoying, and food uncertainty nagging, and decided to move on.
That led to a bit of bushwhacking which I had had enough of and was very tired of. . . my energy wasn't the best. After a while (I had walked through a shrub which left me studded with sticky seeds--a variant on the velcro ones I had earlier been accreting and at least as painful to remove without scissors from leghair, and worse, they then stick to fingers. I do need to make those nylon shell pants--) I sat and cooked the last of my food: two more freeze-drieds (chili, spaghetti) + seaweed + pepper and read a bit of _Mason & Dixon_. Shortly after continuing on from this break I found, thank goodness, a maintained, used, and unovergrown foot trail which went up to overlook Lake Sequoia, and then went down to the east, the way I wanted to go.
Then I saw my first giant sequoias! I have yet to see them in such densities as the coast redwoods grow--maybe these sequoias need the mixed forest.
I was tired, the route seemed to take much longer than I'd expect from the map, and the roads were all over the place, and I wasn't sure which way to go. After a bit of wavering, I continued east-ish. Finally, my first parked vehicle sighting, then people--I arrived in Grant Grove.
A friendly ranger there by the Grant tree helped me plan out my potential route. There are small stores here, Cedar Grove (to the east, near the end of 180), and Lodgepole (south). Eventually I began to walk again, intending to find the store, hoping it might be good, and open. Again a maze of roads and trails (assumption is every one is going back and knows from where they started--this wouldn't be so hard, but there were no other walkers). I made it. The store was open, good enough, and I resupplied, so far it seems, more or less gracefully. I may give details later, but don't feel like doing the data entry now, just this: - ~$46. And I got through to my mom (has been an ongoing project)--she was able to call in to the payphones on the porch where I was eating and depackaging food.
I am partway up to Panoramic Point and Park Ridge. If the ridge is not too cliff-like, I should be able to get down to an OHV road, and then all is good, assuming the roads & trails on the map between there and Lodgepole exist and are in good shape. Else, I'll need to backtrack and try another possibility further north. A map with topo lines could be handy. I could also hitch various places, or walk along the highway, but would rather not.
Well I'm in no rush, know where to get food, and Lodgepole looks fairly close, and I may have a comfortable week's worth of food, and I seem to be high and south enough now that bugs, temp, and forest fire smoke are not making me want to move on. . . no rush. That fire is around the middle fork of the Kings River, and they've been letting it burn since July apparently, in Kings Cyn NP, but in the national forest part they try to put it out.
I never made it into the visitor's center. Maybe if I have to backtrack I'll stop in then. Tomorrow I might not move much, and do more reading and sewing/mending.
They have mirrors around here, and I have got to looking rather wild.
after Lodgepole, then perhaps to Mineral King, then through Golden Trout, south to Manter Mdw, and out the way I came in p'haps.
2204
Peace,
Saturday, September 6, 2008
hello world
Now, back in receptionland, being gone at least a week, I feel compelled to say something, though I was enjoying simple engagement in the journey/a sort of peace, which writing may interfere with. But I am compelled.
For a while I just ate, generally too much, of the free hiker food you don't need to cook (the free food at Muir Trail Ranch was as unbelievable as before--buckets full of Pro, Cliff, & Peaceworks bars, Gu, etc), and re(a)d, mostly Pynchon. More recently I got into roaded areas, primarily because of a fire, and roads motivate me to walk more to get to roadless areas.
Most recently I've had a few days of insane bushwhacking: dropping down into the Kings River Gorge/canyon following bear trails two days ago, and yesterday and first half of today attempting to find and follow trails (on the map but may not have been maintained in decades) before giving up and taking the OHV (off highway vehicle) routes. I've found the heat and the poison oak at these lower elevations by the way.
Last night I was on a mountaintop penned in by chaparral and scrub oak--where I stopped I could not stand up--after following old foot trail to cow trail to bear "trail", getting progressively more shredded in the process. Madness. --perhaps related to my not wanting to stop various things I get started on, whether reading, computer fiddling, eating, and what else? (typing these!) or not wanting to have to turn around and go back considering how shredding and trailless the trip up had been.
Thank goodness for the greater cycles within which my foolishness and lack of will to practice self-control occur: the sun sets, the book ends, the no-cook food runs out, the batteries get low.
What has been for the worse, though: the smoke from the fires. We seem to get a valley breeze in the evenings (cold air sinking?), so mornings by around 2am for the past three mornings the air has been fairly thick with smoke (how close are the fires??). I considered the possibility of becoming charred remains up there on that hill, especially as I cooked my dinner and was reminded how the manzanita--which I had only to reach above or around me to gather--burns like a blowtorch. I did have about four liters of water with me, perhaps lessening the foolishness score. But I more or less had to crawl through poison oak (it's fall, mostly leafless and dried out, and I'd survived the previous day's encounters--but had a river to soak in), and I am wearing shorts, and I had ripped the silicone nylon enclosure I made for the top of my pack, meaning it and what it contained would get caught on more and more of the brush I crawled through, with the catching & ripping getting progressively worse (++foolishness).
I woke early--in the smell of woodsmoke in the brush-enclosed darkness, with no easy, clear path of departure--, I packed by 5am, tried to move a bit with my LED light, then sat and waited (mental stuff, rested, +read a little) for haze-dimmed daylight. Made it back to the cow trails by 0630 or 0700? Back to the marked trail by 1100. On the map this trail continues, but I found no continuation on the ground, though there were similar ancient blazes (continuation not found) on oaks near the highest reach of the cow trails! And back to the road by 1200.
Now I've gotten in trouble the other way: I asked for and accepted a ride that got me most of the way up the OHV road--avoiding much of a long, hot climb. Later without being 100% sure where I was, I accepted (though I did not have a thumb out, and I did hesitate) a short ride that put me partway along hwy 180--but I wanted to be on the forest service road to the north (I had considered it and walked by, confused by labeling saying it went to Millville, which is not on my map)--that road would be much more peaceful, there's probably a spring along it, and it gets to the east in a nice spot. Well I decided not to turn around, and eventually found an FS (forest service) road to get a bit of a ways off the hwy. But I still have maybe 6 mi of hwy walking for tomorrow am, and only a quarter of a liter of H20 left after cooking a good dinner. And I'm a bit itchy, rather dirty, and the fat ants are running over each other to be my dessert--but the swarms of eye flies went to bed with the sun, and perhaps I'm far enough south to now avoid the morning fire smog.
--
Reading Pynchon--alot could be said. About the bears and the cows and the ants and the people, how they seem to wander every where--alot could be said? About feeling alive and fully engaged following those animal trails--the mystery, amazement where they lead, down and up cliffs, to water, on belly, on crablegs, scraping, shredding through brush, feeling the scrape on skin, continuing anyway, or because?--ditto.
Well, that may be all then. I've enjoyed a few emails that made it through--one from Starhawk about the RNC, one from Jim Bell . . . and the ProEVO people apparently sent out another shipment of books ( http://groups.yahoo.com/group/pro-evo ?)
It would be good if I could post a proposed route before I head to possible no reception for the next two weeks. But the only solid plan is to resupply somehow (about a day's food remains), to look at big sequoias, to continue south, to not bushwhack any more--or at least no more following bear scufflings . . . no more poison oak.
Not sure whether I'll stop by Quail Springs and Los Padres NF, not sure how soon I'll be back in SD (very end of Sept? Week before end?). Seems I want to not get stuck there--it would be so easy and perhaps not unpleasant to get rutted there for a month again (and work on various things related to Mexico travel). But since I started this trip I've never spent two nights in the same spot. . . perhaps keep that up? I wish to avoid my grandma (Ann)'s fearfulness. Unlike Sherwood Anderson's characters--well, never mind attempting to express that.
No grand plans. I may now be embedded out here--reading & listening to books and wandering around really may be enough, and richer than most things I can imagine. Challenges come up--finding trails, resupplying gracefully, reading--. I avoid the ugliness of the car-city and car-presence, the rutness of house living. I could see myself hopping a freight train and riding along to somewhere.
Comfort will be an issue. Too much heat, poison oak, biting, stinging ants, flying bugs, bad air from burning forests--
The only thing I think could be good to learn from that I may not get out here is doing involved things with others--you know, the ideal of great collaborators: dance companies, artist groups, teams, business, activists, tribes, whatever. At least I'll read about collaboration, real and imaginary.
Two things I noted on my pad a while ago as contemplation possibilities: (1) life as ambiguity reduction; (2) life/PCT as novel: what will make you want to finish/keep reading/see it through?
2008-09-06-1129, Sequoia NP
Peace,
For a while I just ate, generally too much, of the free hiker food you don't need to cook (the free food at Muir Trail Ranch was as unbelievable as before--buckets full of Pro, Cliff, & Peaceworks bars, Gu, etc), and re(a)d, mostly Pynchon. More recently I got into roaded areas, primarily because of a fire, and roads motivate me to walk more to get to roadless areas.
Most recently I've had a few days of insane bushwhacking: dropping down into the Kings River Gorge/canyon following bear trails two days ago, and yesterday and first half of today attempting to find and follow trails (on the map but may not have been maintained in decades) before giving up and taking the OHV (off highway vehicle) routes. I've found the heat and the poison oak at these lower elevations by the way.
Last night I was on a mountaintop penned in by chaparral and scrub oak--where I stopped I could not stand up--after following old foot trail to cow trail to bear "trail", getting progressively more shredded in the process. Madness. --perhaps related to my not wanting to stop various things I get started on, whether reading, computer fiddling, eating, and what else? (typing these!) or not wanting to have to turn around and go back considering how shredding and trailless the trip up had been.
Thank goodness for the greater cycles within which my foolishness and lack of will to practice self-control occur: the sun sets, the book ends, the no-cook food runs out, the batteries get low.
What has been for the worse, though: the smoke from the fires. We seem to get a valley breeze in the evenings (cold air sinking?), so mornings by around 2am for the past three mornings the air has been fairly thick with smoke (how close are the fires??). I considered the possibility of becoming charred remains up there on that hill, especially as I cooked my dinner and was reminded how the manzanita--which I had only to reach above or around me to gather--burns like a blowtorch. I did have about four liters of water with me, perhaps lessening the foolishness score. But I more or less had to crawl through poison oak (it's fall, mostly leafless and dried out, and I'd survived the previous day's encounters--but had a river to soak in), and I am wearing shorts, and I had ripped the silicone nylon enclosure I made for the top of my pack, meaning it and what it contained would get caught on more and more of the brush I crawled through, with the catching & ripping getting progressively worse (++foolishness).
I woke early--in the smell of woodsmoke in the brush-enclosed darkness, with no easy, clear path of departure--, I packed by 5am, tried to move a bit with my LED light, then sat and waited (mental stuff, rested, +read a little) for haze-dimmed daylight. Made it back to the cow trails by 0630 or 0700? Back to the marked trail by 1100. On the map this trail continues, but I found no continuation on the ground, though there were similar ancient blazes (continuation not found) on oaks near the highest reach of the cow trails! And back to the road by 1200.
Now I've gotten in trouble the other way: I asked for and accepted a ride that got me most of the way up the OHV road--avoiding much of a long, hot climb. Later without being 100% sure where I was, I accepted (though I did not have a thumb out, and I did hesitate) a short ride that put me partway along hwy 180--but I wanted to be on the forest service road to the north (I had considered it and walked by, confused by labeling saying it went to Millville, which is not on my map)--that road would be much more peaceful, there's probably a spring along it, and it gets to the east in a nice spot. Well I decided not to turn around, and eventually found an FS (forest service) road to get a bit of a ways off the hwy. But I still have maybe 6 mi of hwy walking for tomorrow am, and only a quarter of a liter of H20 left after cooking a good dinner. And I'm a bit itchy, rather dirty, and the fat ants are running over each other to be my dessert--but the swarms of eye flies went to bed with the sun, and perhaps I'm far enough south to now avoid the morning fire smog.
--
Reading Pynchon--alot could be said. About the bears and the cows and the ants and the people, how they seem to wander every where--alot could be said? About feeling alive and fully engaged following those animal trails--the mystery, amazement where they lead, down and up cliffs, to water, on belly, on crablegs, scraping, shredding through brush, feeling the scrape on skin, continuing anyway, or because?--ditto.
Well, that may be all then. I've enjoyed a few emails that made it through--one from Starhawk about the RNC, one from Jim Bell . . . and the ProEVO people apparently sent out another shipment of books ( http://groups.yahoo.com/group/pro-evo ?)
It would be good if I could post a proposed route before I head to possible no reception for the next two weeks. But the only solid plan is to resupply somehow (about a day's food remains), to look at big sequoias, to continue south, to not bushwhack any more--or at least no more following bear scufflings . . . no more poison oak.
Not sure whether I'll stop by Quail Springs and Los Padres NF, not sure how soon I'll be back in SD (very end of Sept? Week before end?). Seems I want to not get stuck there--it would be so easy and perhaps not unpleasant to get rutted there for a month again (and work on various things related to Mexico travel). But since I started this trip I've never spent two nights in the same spot. . . perhaps keep that up? I wish to avoid my grandma (Ann)'s fearfulness. Unlike Sherwood Anderson's characters--well, never mind attempting to express that.
No grand plans. I may now be embedded out here--reading & listening to books and wandering around really may be enough, and richer than most things I can imagine. Challenges come up--finding trails, resupplying gracefully, reading--. I avoid the ugliness of the car-city and car-presence, the rutness of house living. I could see myself hopping a freight train and riding along to somewhere.
Comfort will be an issue. Too much heat, poison oak, biting, stinging ants, flying bugs, bad air from burning forests--
The only thing I think could be good to learn from that I may not get out here is doing involved things with others--you know, the ideal of great collaborators: dance companies, artist groups, teams, business, activists, tribes, whatever. At least I'll read about collaboration, real and imaginary.
Two things I noted on my pad a while ago as contemplation possibilities: (1) life as ambiguity reduction; (2) life/PCT as novel: what will make you want to finish/keep reading/see it through?
2008-09-06-1129, Sequoia NP
Peace,
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