The days run away with themselves... and so a quick overview of the joys of the Bay Area and how they have distracted me from this electronic world of journaling:
- The Seaward-
I met Captain Emerson on suggestion of a good friend. He captains the 82' schooner The Seaward out of Sausalito. They run educational programs on the ship (they being his crazy crew) as well as chartered cruises around the bay. What an incredible way to check out the area from the water. He took me out all day and I was able to get the most amazing views of Alcatraz, the Golden Gate Bridge, and all of the surrounding city areas:)
- Yoga To The People -
I found myself the most amazing yoga studio. They are located right downtown Berkeley, are donation based, and offer killer classes. It is always packed and sweaty but all the people there create a warm, inviting community to practice in.
- Red Obsession -
Daniel, Jacqueline and I painted the entire kitchen bright "obsession" red. It was a gloriously messy night of color.
- Capoeira -
Another new "friend of a friend" here, Scott, convinced me (wasn't that difficult, trust me) to try taking a Capoeira (Brazilian dance/martial art) class here. It was so much fun. The music is lively and pulses through you and the moves, so far, are very intuitive. Looks like I've been hooked... watch out!
- Brownies From Scratch -
Did you know those are locations? Apparently, they are... we wanted to make brownies (the dessert) from scratch. So I texted google (its like having the internet on your phone for free!) "Brownies from scratch" and this was the response:
Directions:
Distance: 121 mi (about 2 hours 45 mins) 25 steps.
Sorry, the requested route is too long. You may want to get it online at http://maps.google.com
So, if you are curious the steps to making brownies from scratch, apparently it requires some travel. Good luck.
The world continues to surprise and amuse me - and it's great to realize that one doesn't always have to travel far to find those lovely moments that make places special.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Berkeley, CA - Park(ing) Day!
The Bay Area is doing all it can to keep me completely and totally enamored. And it is most definitely succeeding. I met up with a good friend Rachel on the University of California, Berkeley campus and together we bussed over to San Francisco to cruise Chinatown:) After becoming all but overwhelmed by the amount of energy and general stuff available, we needed a break. Poof! Free tea tasting! Perfectly timed, we sat down and filled up on various lovely, hot, fragrant tea before heading back to Berkeley.
After parting ways, I thought I would just be heading home to sit in for a quiet evening. Silly me;) As I wandered down Shattuck Ave a man gestured to me from a park bench. I smiled. He waved and said, "Come on now, you can't just walk on by. You need to take a moment to sit and enjoy the evening." (All of you cynics out there are holding your breath right now, I know. Just trust me for a moment, people are so fabulous.) So I joined this man, Olvan, and had a lovely conversation about his travels through life, what he does now, how we both happen to love being where we are right now... then a group of people came and performed a movement/dance piece to the sound of the city streets, right in front of us... enormous white flowers wafted in the breeze... small children smiled, giggled, teased one another... a woman handed out packets of wildflower seeds...
Park(ing) Day.
Basically, once a year, people gather together and "rent out" a section of metered parking spots. They then build a park there for the day. September 18th happened to be Park(ing) Day. The park I had stumbled upon had enormous flowers created from old plastic bags. It is an effort to remind people that we should cherish the beauty of parks, whether permanent or transient:)
And the fun doesn't end there! Life is made of "old friends I still gotta meet" (ahem, if you don't know that quote, go listen to some Rachael Davis... she's good for the soul) and I met one of them this evening back in San Francisco. Emerson is a charismatic captain. Literally (more on that later, I promise). We downed some yummy local beer and I, yet again, showed how terrible I am at playing pool. The fun's in playing, not winning... says the loser...
After parting ways, I thought I would just be heading home to sit in for a quiet evening. Silly me;) As I wandered down Shattuck Ave a man gestured to me from a park bench. I smiled. He waved and said, "Come on now, you can't just walk on by. You need to take a moment to sit and enjoy the evening." (All of you cynics out there are holding your breath right now, I know. Just trust me for a moment, people are so fabulous.) So I joined this man, Olvan, and had a lovely conversation about his travels through life, what he does now, how we both happen to love being where we are right now... then a group of people came and performed a movement/dance piece to the sound of the city streets, right in front of us... enormous white flowers wafted in the breeze... small children smiled, giggled, teased one another... a woman handed out packets of wildflower seeds...
Park(ing) Day.
Basically, once a year, people gather together and "rent out" a section of metered parking spots. They then build a park there for the day. September 18th happened to be Park(ing) Day. The park I had stumbled upon had enormous flowers created from old plastic bags. It is an effort to remind people that we should cherish the beauty of parks, whether permanent or transient:)
And the fun doesn't end there! Life is made of "old friends I still gotta meet" (ahem, if you don't know that quote, go listen to some Rachael Davis... she's good for the soul) and I met one of them this evening back in San Francisco. Emerson is a charismatic captain. Literally (more on that later, I promise). We downed some yummy local beer and I, yet again, showed how terrible I am at playing pool. The fun's in playing, not winning... says the loser...
Berkeley, CA - Red Carpet Welcome
I am now the lone rider once again - I have returned the beast! The drive down to Portola Valley was relatively quick and the last car adventure to make. It took me into San Francisco briefly. What a beautiful city - the buildings are all cream, yellow, shell pink - so full of light and seashore personality. Karen and I had a nice catch up conversation in their (gorgeous!) home before heading back into the city. Time to really get to know the housemate... what better way than meeting up for beers and garlic naan at PUB (Yes, Pub. Not A pub. Just a bar called Pub...)!
Not even ten hours later...
My first real stroll through the streets of Berkeley welcomed me in a gracious fashion, by quite literally rolling out the red carpet. As I entered the downtown area, already loving the vibe, I noticed a large crowd of people around the public transportation-station (The Bay Area Rapid Transit - BART! Haha, it has a person name. Oh I love this place.) so I wandered over to find out what the excitement was all about. This group of rowdy hooligans had placed red carpet at the entrance/exit to the station and were applauding/whistling/cheering every time a person came or went. How hilariously fantastic. The look on the unsuspectingly famous "randoms" was priceless. This to be followed by yet another bonding evening: new friend Liz, Jacqueline, and I made dinner and spent an entire evening in gossipy, giggly girl bliss. (To be immediately followed by introductions to THE SPIDER. There is basically a mouse with eight legs living on the lightbulb directly outside the apartment door. We have yet to make friends. Really anticipating this one to not end well for either of us).
Not even ten hours later...
My first real stroll through the streets of Berkeley welcomed me in a gracious fashion, by quite literally rolling out the red carpet. As I entered the downtown area, already loving the vibe, I noticed a large crowd of people around the public transportation-station (The Bay Area Rapid Transit - BART! Haha, it has a person name. Oh I love this place.) so I wandered over to find out what the excitement was all about. This group of rowdy hooligans had placed red carpet at the entrance/exit to the station and were applauding/whistling/cheering every time a person came or went. How hilariously fantastic. The look on the unsuspectingly famous "randoms" was priceless. This to be followed by yet another bonding evening: new friend Liz, Jacqueline, and I made dinner and spent an entire evening in gossipy, giggly girl bliss. (To be immediately followed by introductions to THE SPIDER. There is basically a mouse with eight legs living on the lightbulb directly outside the apartment door. We have yet to make friends. Really anticipating this one to not end well for either of us).
Monday, September 21, 2009
Redwood National Park, CA to Berkeley, CA
The "final" trek to Berkeley had more than its share of moments highlighting Maggie's inability to stick to any sort of schedule, or implement any kind of logical awareness of time and location. But produced more fantastic memories and stories! So I got that going for me...
Donna woke me up to invite me to the mouth of the Klamath River to watch the salmon run. We were joined by Paul, from the Philippines by way of southern California, and Boris, from Germany. Let me take a moment to set the stage for this mornings antics: Boris met us at 8:00am with a Budweiser in his hand because it was his last and he figured he should use it up soon. Oh Boris. At the beach, we encountered dozens of sea otters, hundreds of beach birds, and several barking sea lions. Between the barking "Aaaarpp!" of the sea lions, Boris's heavy metal lyrics (and constant response to any question with "YOP!") I laughed pretty solidly for most of the day. However, salmon remained elusive. So we got food and then returned at low tide to find the river mouth lined with fishermen. And THEN we saw some fish. Salmon are enormous. Trust me, I picked one up (ohhhh the slime!). Finally, we were fished out and headed back to the hostel. My intention had been to head south by 12:30. It was now 3:45. Oh well, I guess I can roll with the... fishing rods?
Leaving at 4:30 meant that I did not get in any quality time with the prehistoric mammoth tree-beasts in the Park. But its strange, the feeling even driving through those things urges silence and has a palpable feeling of awe. The air is thick, the ferns are from a different time. A time when cameras did not exist, I am willing to bet, based on the fact that photographing one is OUT of the question. I tried. They are too much for the camera. And I don't think it is just their size, its more than that. It is the fact that you cannot capture the feeling. Yet another unexplainable experience - those trees are more alive than any other tree I have ever come across; and they demand your attention, command your respect. And I willingly gave it. So much so that I didn't take the time to consider the fact that I am in California now, where the fog rolls in right around evening and coats EVERYTHING. So I decided that driving down Hwy 1 would be great way to see the sunset along the coast. HAH. Good joke, right? Let me describe the following hours going to Berkeley:
The road is like a snake, weaving back and forth unendingly. In order to not careen off the road on each curve, my speed never tops 20mph. This means that a "quick" 25 mile drive to the coast does not get you there by sunset. On the contrary, it assures that you are driving in thick darkness, with even thicker fog, and mammoth trees. I SINCERELY believed I would see a dinosaur around each and every corner. And though I did not see any, I probably didn't give it a fair shot. Three hours of driving 15-20mph sent me scuttling back to US 101 in order to reach my host Jacqueline at least by 1:00am. Aye.
Moment of reverence for my new housemate:
Jacqueline is a woman of fantastic energy. Beautiful, quick-witted, and unbelievably kind; she welcomed me graciously with open arms and we giggled our way into a quick friendship. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Donna woke me up to invite me to the mouth of the Klamath River to watch the salmon run. We were joined by Paul, from the Philippines by way of southern California, and Boris, from Germany. Let me take a moment to set the stage for this mornings antics: Boris met us at 8:00am with a Budweiser in his hand because it was his last and he figured he should use it up soon. Oh Boris. At the beach, we encountered dozens of sea otters, hundreds of beach birds, and several barking sea lions. Between the barking "Aaaarpp!" of the sea lions, Boris's heavy metal lyrics (and constant response to any question with "YOP!") I laughed pretty solidly for most of the day. However, salmon remained elusive. So we got food and then returned at low tide to find the river mouth lined with fishermen. And THEN we saw some fish. Salmon are enormous. Trust me, I picked one up (ohhhh the slime!). Finally, we were fished out and headed back to the hostel. My intention had been to head south by 12:30. It was now 3:45. Oh well, I guess I can roll with the... fishing rods?
Leaving at 4:30 meant that I did not get in any quality time with the prehistoric mammoth tree-beasts in the Park. But its strange, the feeling even driving through those things urges silence and has a palpable feeling of awe. The air is thick, the ferns are from a different time. A time when cameras did not exist, I am willing to bet, based on the fact that photographing one is OUT of the question. I tried. They are too much for the camera. And I don't think it is just their size, its more than that. It is the fact that you cannot capture the feeling. Yet another unexplainable experience - those trees are more alive than any other tree I have ever come across; and they demand your attention, command your respect. And I willingly gave it. So much so that I didn't take the time to consider the fact that I am in California now, where the fog rolls in right around evening and coats EVERYTHING. So I decided that driving down Hwy 1 would be great way to see the sunset along the coast. HAH. Good joke, right? Let me describe the following hours going to Berkeley:
The road is like a snake, weaving back and forth unendingly. In order to not careen off the road on each curve, my speed never tops 20mph. This means that a "quick" 25 mile drive to the coast does not get you there by sunset. On the contrary, it assures that you are driving in thick darkness, with even thicker fog, and mammoth trees. I SINCERELY believed I would see a dinosaur around each and every corner. And though I did not see any, I probably didn't give it a fair shot. Three hours of driving 15-20mph sent me scuttling back to US 101 in order to reach my host Jacqueline at least by 1:00am. Aye.
Moment of reverence for my new housemate:
Jacqueline is a woman of fantastic energy. Beautiful, quick-witted, and unbelievably kind; she welcomed me graciously with open arms and we giggled our way into a quick friendship. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Eugene, OR to Redwood National Park, CA
I made it to California! And the most entertaining way to do so, in my opinion, is by way of a good ole "produce check" at the state border. Especially when it is a thorough investigation. Let me demonstrate just how in depth the experience was:
Produce Checker: "Hello ma'am, how are you?"
Me: "Great thanks! You?"
PC: "Good. Have any produce with you?"
Me: "Nope."
PC: "Okay, have a nice day."
Certified produce-free me meandered into the state and then the trees just began to grow. And grow. I made it to the Redwoods Youth Hostel in a relatively uneventful manner and figured my evening would simply consist of a little uke jam on the beach (oh, the soft sand out here is amazing) to sing the sun to sleep. And while some of that happened... my evening was far from uneventful;)
I met a woman who has been biking for about six months, started in South Carolina, and was staying at the hostel (albeit in a little more acceptable way - I am nearing the "no money" section of this trip so for me staying in the hostel is more like sleeping in the hostel parking lot). She was fascinating to talk to and luckily I found out she has a blog (crazyguyonabike.com search for Reclaiming Blue America by Beth Kodluboy). I say luckily because while I adore listening to other people's adventures, I understand the process of having to answer the same questions over and over. So I sucked up as much conversation with her as I felt was fair and then gave her some beach time to herself. Not moments later, I met Jerome - crazy hippie boy from Colorado - who was headed down the beach with his mom Donna to check out a dead sea lion. Count me in! Jerome issued a quick warning, "So.... hope it doesn't freak you out. My mom is bringing some knives and might try to take some of the hide or teeth...." And while the stench of the massive dead animal was oh so less-than-pleasant, Donna snagged herself a prize lion tooth;) Not to be outdone, the livelier animals in the area decided to try for some attention (not necessarily Dental attention, more like photographic appreciation). As the sun sank, a troupe of feisty, ambling sea otters danced across the shoreline.
Back at the hostel, another woman biking down the coast pulled out a guitar and played around for a while. Turns out this hostel has a whole nice collection of instruments. Including the winner of all instruments: a driftwood didgeridoo!! It was ENORMOUS but undaunted, I tried to play it... pseudo-successfully. Apparently some people give massages with didges. And who doesn't love a good massage? So a few of us tried it out. Next time someone offers you an opportunity to receive a didgeridoo massage, please accept. It is hilariously awesome. Massaged into exhaustion, I headed to the outdoors for some sleep.
Produce Checker: "Hello ma'am, how are you?"
Me: "Great thanks! You?"
PC: "Good. Have any produce with you?"
Me: "Nope."
PC: "Okay, have a nice day."
Certified produce-free me meandered into the state and then the trees just began to grow. And grow. I made it to the Redwoods Youth Hostel in a relatively uneventful manner and figured my evening would simply consist of a little uke jam on the beach (oh, the soft sand out here is amazing) to sing the sun to sleep. And while some of that happened... my evening was far from uneventful;)
I met a woman who has been biking for about six months, started in South Carolina, and was staying at the hostel (albeit in a little more acceptable way - I am nearing the "no money" section of this trip so for me staying in the hostel is more like sleeping in the hostel parking lot). She was fascinating to talk to and luckily I found out she has a blog (crazyguyonabike.com search for Reclaiming Blue America by Beth Kodluboy). I say luckily because while I adore listening to other people's adventures, I understand the process of having to answer the same questions over and over. So I sucked up as much conversation with her as I felt was fair and then gave her some beach time to herself. Not moments later, I met Jerome - crazy hippie boy from Colorado - who was headed down the beach with his mom Donna to check out a dead sea lion. Count me in! Jerome issued a quick warning, "So.... hope it doesn't freak you out. My mom is bringing some knives and might try to take some of the hide or teeth...." And while the stench of the massive dead animal was oh so less-than-pleasant, Donna snagged herself a prize lion tooth;) Not to be outdone, the livelier animals in the area decided to try for some attention (not necessarily Dental attention, more like photographic appreciation). As the sun sank, a troupe of feisty, ambling sea otters danced across the shoreline.
Back at the hostel, another woman biking down the coast pulled out a guitar and played around for a while. Turns out this hostel has a whole nice collection of instruments. Including the winner of all instruments: a driftwood didgeridoo!! It was ENORMOUS but undaunted, I tried to play it... pseudo-successfully. Apparently some people give massages with didges. And who doesn't love a good massage? So a few of us tried it out. Next time someone offers you an opportunity to receive a didgeridoo massage, please accept. It is hilariously awesome. Massaged into exhaustion, I headed to the outdoors for some sleep.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Eugene, OR - Weekend Adventures
Who knew coastal Oregon and western Montana would have such similarities? They do - in the way they suck you in and keep you there longer than you told your gracious hosts. And when I write "you" I obviously do not mean that I would ever stay several extra days in a city, mooching off the generosity of good friends and a comfy bed;) Friday was another casual day. Met up with buddy Dan and he gave me a little tour of the nearby Hendricks (?) Park and its spectacular views of some of the surrounding buttes and city area. A crowd of us went over to California Research Institute for dinner - really funky pizza place with delicious, crazy pizzas and FOOSBALL! Talk about a walk down memory lane, playing Foosball with old friends:)
The weather in Eugene is hot. So lovely:) And so hot in fact, that on Saturday, that same crowd decided to drive over to Florence to spend the day at the ocean. Unfortunately, that kind of heat does not stick around at the edge of the Pacific. So it was much chillier (ie: sweatshirt/jeans/hat) but absolutely still worth it. The beaches in Oregon are ruggedly beautiful. Grey mist rolling in on the horizon and wind whipping through the dunes. But rugged as they are, the beaches are no competition for the ruggedness of the group that came to conquer! We stripped down and plunged into the FRIGID waters. The kind of cold that makes you gasp, makes your skin turn red, and makes the boys hold onto... well, the boys, for dear life. But exhilarating nonetheless;) We even spent enough time numbing our skin to see a seal mock us in our blubber-less state. Enough of being rugged. Time for hot coffee and showers:) And then... I became a duck. I really did. Decked out in yellow and green, I hiked on over to the University of Oregon football game with Dan. However, with no cell service, we just got a good look at the outside of the stadium and never could get a hold of the man with the tickets. So instead we watched it from a friend's place (U of O won, FYI) and then to celebrate we went to MacMenamins for beers and a game of pool:)
Not to be outdone by Bozeman's elongated stay, Eugene also sucked me in for all of Sunday. I was invited to go rafting with Dan, Kathy, Dave, and Mike:) If those four ever invite you anywhere - accept, regardless of the situation. This is a group of fantastic, hilarious, sweet individuals:) We rafted down the McKenzie River for a few hours. This is no ordinary river. It is a temperature to rival the ocean I was in the previous day (AKA: ICY) and crystal clear. So clear you think you could touch the bottom when it is in fact more like 15 or 20 feet down. Which makes it froth ice-blue and white in the rapids. One of the most beautiful rivers I have ever seen, I would not hesitate to say. Once again, thoroughly chilled, we heated back up with dinner and laughs and then a game of Settler's of Catan with Dan & friends:) But after all that generosity from everyone, I decided the kindest thing I could do was to really get out of their hair and tangle myself into the biggest trees I could find...
The weather in Eugene is hot. So lovely:) And so hot in fact, that on Saturday, that same crowd decided to drive over to Florence to spend the day at the ocean. Unfortunately, that kind of heat does not stick around at the edge of the Pacific. So it was much chillier (ie: sweatshirt/jeans/hat) but absolutely still worth it. The beaches in Oregon are ruggedly beautiful. Grey mist rolling in on the horizon and wind whipping through the dunes. But rugged as they are, the beaches are no competition for the ruggedness of the group that came to conquer! We stripped down and plunged into the FRIGID waters. The kind of cold that makes you gasp, makes your skin turn red, and makes the boys hold onto... well, the boys, for dear life. But exhilarating nonetheless;) We even spent enough time numbing our skin to see a seal mock us in our blubber-less state. Enough of being rugged. Time for hot coffee and showers:) And then... I became a duck. I really did. Decked out in yellow and green, I hiked on over to the University of Oregon football game with Dan. However, with no cell service, we just got a good look at the outside of the stadium and never could get a hold of the man with the tickets. So instead we watched it from a friend's place (U of O won, FYI) and then to celebrate we went to MacMenamins for beers and a game of pool:)
Not to be outdone by Bozeman's elongated stay, Eugene also sucked me in for all of Sunday. I was invited to go rafting with Dan, Kathy, Dave, and Mike:) If those four ever invite you anywhere - accept, regardless of the situation. This is a group of fantastic, hilarious, sweet individuals:) We rafted down the McKenzie River for a few hours. This is no ordinary river. It is a temperature to rival the ocean I was in the previous day (AKA: ICY) and crystal clear. So clear you think you could touch the bottom when it is in fact more like 15 or 20 feet down. Which makes it froth ice-blue and white in the rapids. One of the most beautiful rivers I have ever seen, I would not hesitate to say. Once again, thoroughly chilled, we heated back up with dinner and laughs and then a game of Settler's of Catan with Dan & friends:) But after all that generosity from everyone, I decided the kindest thing I could do was to really get out of their hair and tangle myself into the biggest trees I could find...
Friday, September 11, 2009
Lake Oswego, OR to Eugene, OR
Made my way to Eugene, Oregon. It's interesting - I am started to really feel the drag of being in a car. Two hours was more than enough time behind the wheel for me! Luckily, two hours was all I had to be in there and I was greeted with the warm hugs of childhood friends Hayes and Andrew. Soon to be joined by Lindsey. It was a domestic, chill afternoon and evening filled with back-to-school shopping (I love nature but boy do organizational office supplies hold a special place in my heart) and tofu kabobs on the outdoor fire pit! Nothing shoo's away the woes of driving like good conversation. Well, perhaps chocolate stout, sweet potatoes, rice, and veggies/tofu marinated in Hayes's homemade sauce. Not to mention the heaven of a chocolate dessert...
Perhaps after all this divine food treatment (and the lack of physical activity from driving) I will actually have to start reading my web address differently: no longer "Musings Of a Traveling Musician" but perhaps: "Musing, O Fat Raveling Musician!" or once I am really laden down with food: "Musing SOFA Traveling Musician!" Take your pick;)
Perhaps after all this divine food treatment (and the lack of physical activity from driving) I will actually have to start reading my web address differently: no longer "Musings Of a Traveling Musician" but perhaps: "Musing, O Fat Raveling Musician!" or once I am really laden down with food: "Musing SOFA Traveling Musician!" Take your pick;)
Portland, OR - Tea Party!?
Alexis, Ian, and Taylor put me up for two days and it was SO good to catch up with old friends. Ian, Taylor, and Julie gave me a little taste of Portland by bike. We pedaled our way to Powell's Books. Overwhelming. I could have lived in there and never been able to get enough. Someday I think I will attach some extra shelving to my bike and have a rolling library. Fueled back up on local beer and food and then hit the Rose Garden. Rows and rows of varying shapes, colors, sizes, smells. All beautiful. It had just started to make me feel like I was in Alice in Wonderland when I went even further down the rabbit hole... Julie and I came across a tea party! Three people (Nicole, Shane, and Alison) had set up a little spot for tea and were inviting any and everyone to join them and chat about what stresses (or de-stresses) them in life. So of course we had a cup of tea. Nicole and Shane are driving around the country having these tea parties! (Soon to be in San Francisco - keep your eyes open for the moving tea pot!) How fabulous. We all got back in the saddle after a nice break among the roses and made our way to a little Cafe on the East Side that shows films... tonight's: "Man On Wire" Ah, psych. I knew something was up when the film started out as slapstick humor in Italian. But the change in plans was very welcome. We ended up watch "Life is Beautiful;" a film about an Italian Jew doing all he can during the holocaust to keep his child and wife happy. Go see it. Please:) I ended my day reading an article in Michigan Blue by Jerry Dennis and I really loved this description:
"A moment is a hard thing to capture. It's elusive and stubborn and impossible to predict. Just when you think you've got one nailed down it blends into other moments, and instead of a memory as crisply defined as a jewel's facet, you have nothing but a vague recollection. But [THAT] moment... was finely etched. It was magical and absolutely unexpected, vivid as a dream, so memorable that it might come back, unbidden 30 or 40 years from now, when I'm in bed, almost asleep, and have long forgotten that I ever witnessed such a scene."
"A moment is a hard thing to capture. It's elusive and stubborn and impossible to predict. Just when you think you've got one nailed down it blends into other moments, and instead of a memory as crisply defined as a jewel's facet, you have nothing but a vague recollection. But [THAT] moment... was finely etched. It was magical and absolutely unexpected, vivid as a dream, so memorable that it might come back, unbidden 30 or 40 years from now, when I'm in bed, almost asleep, and have long forgotten that I ever witnessed such a scene."
Olympic National Park, WA to Lake Oswego, OR
My 15 minutes of morning chores at the hostel were spent filling in sign post holes with Dave. It was a great 15 minutes of conversation about his experiences hiking all over the United States.
Headed to the Hoh Rainforest. If you have to have a ton of rain - getting to wander through a rain forest is the best way to enjoy it. I walked the "Hall of Mosses" which is a short trail though trees just laden with spongy brown-green moss. Like the mountain stream water I could not accurately describe, the colors in the rain forest are almost impossible to capture in anything other than your senses, in that very moment you are experiencing them. The best I can do will not help most people - the colors are the colors of my sister's eyes. Greens of all shades. A little bit of brown and some golden light flickering through. And, it goes without saying, gorgeous. I couldn't get enough of walking through that place. So I went on the Ranger led hike down the "Spruce Trail." (Shout out to Adam B: "OH, RANGER!") Ranger Mike explained everything about the progression from river bed to rainforest and back again. It is amazing how nature just works itself out in the most organized fashion... each animal or plant plays its part. Even the destruction is ultimately just leading back to growth (or vice versa, I guess... chicken, egg... whatever...).
Eventually, I was able to pull myself from that magical seclusion of moss and green filtered light... and forty five minutes down the road I was able to pull myself back into reality by remembering that my sleeping bag was still cozily curled up in the hostel. In situations like those there is really nothing more to do but turn around and laugh. So laugh and turn around I did. At least it was a gorgeous stretch of road... I don't know if it was gorgeous enough to drive three times in a row but... such is life. Drove the rest of the way without any major mishaps and was greeted by another night city-scape. This time - Portland! My destination for the evening was however, the next little town Lake Oswego with good childhood friends.
Headed to the Hoh Rainforest. If you have to have a ton of rain - getting to wander through a rain forest is the best way to enjoy it. I walked the "Hall of Mosses" which is a short trail though trees just laden with spongy brown-green moss. Like the mountain stream water I could not accurately describe, the colors in the rain forest are almost impossible to capture in anything other than your senses, in that very moment you are experiencing them. The best I can do will not help most people - the colors are the colors of my sister's eyes. Greens of all shades. A little bit of brown and some golden light flickering through. And, it goes without saying, gorgeous. I couldn't get enough of walking through that place. So I went on the Ranger led hike down the "Spruce Trail." (Shout out to Adam B: "OH, RANGER!") Ranger Mike explained everything about the progression from river bed to rainforest and back again. It is amazing how nature just works itself out in the most organized fashion... each animal or plant plays its part. Even the destruction is ultimately just leading back to growth (or vice versa, I guess... chicken, egg... whatever...).
Eventually, I was able to pull myself from that magical seclusion of moss and green filtered light... and forty five minutes down the road I was able to pull myself back into reality by remembering that my sleeping bag was still cozily curled up in the hostel. In situations like those there is really nothing more to do but turn around and laugh. So laugh and turn around I did. At least it was a gorgeous stretch of road... I don't know if it was gorgeous enough to drive three times in a row but... such is life. Drove the rest of the way without any major mishaps and was greeted by another night city-scape. This time - Portland! My destination for the evening was however, the next little town Lake Oswego with good childhood friends.
Seattle, WA - Olympic National Park, WA
After a second day spent in Seattle (wandering through the Arboretum, learning about the plant life of the area) and a morning of lovely tea, I ventured up to the Edwards-Kingston Ferry. There is something about being on a huge floating vessel - one big enough to carry TONS of boats - that makes you feel like a small child. I ran all around the ferry the entire time it was churning it's way across the water. And then proceeded to drive THROUGH water. The positive side to all the rain here is that the vehicle I am driving can be temporarily relieved of the excess weight it has been carrying in bug death. Rain or shine, I decided to go up to Hurricane Ridge once I arrived at the Olympic National Park. On a "shine" day you get incredible views of all the mountains. I've never been one to want the traditional experience though, I guess, so I got to see it on a rain day. Which means literally driving into clouds. Not the spectacular view that would have been nice but a really incredible experience in itself. Every once in a while a segment of bright blue sky would peek out of a hole in the white and startle me into realizing how far I could see from those heights. But there really is only so much you can see in the floating water droplets, so I moved on...
Drove US 101 down to Ruby Beach just in time for the sunset! I have technically been TO THE WEST COAST on this trip! I plunged my toes into the frigid evening tide waters and watched the sun slide, pastel and perfect, into the Pacific Ocean. The beach was amazing - huge dead trees lay scattered in various natural sculptures. The sand is dark and the rock formations all along the coast are like enormous drip castles. But not wanting to get caught sleeping on the beach (toooo coooold!) I drove to the Rain Forest Hostel I had passed on the way down. $10 a night plus 15min of morning chores. Not a bad deal at all! Dave checked me in - a traveler by his own right - and Jim, the house parent, explained how he started the hostel. It was a nice place to lay my head down for the night...
Drove US 101 down to Ruby Beach just in time for the sunset! I have technically been TO THE WEST COAST on this trip! I plunged my toes into the frigid evening tide waters and watched the sun slide, pastel and perfect, into the Pacific Ocean. The beach was amazing - huge dead trees lay scattered in various natural sculptures. The sand is dark and the rock formations all along the coast are like enormous drip castles. But not wanting to get caught sleeping on the beach (toooo coooold!) I drove to the Rain Forest Hostel I had passed on the way down. $10 a night plus 15min of morning chores. Not a bad deal at all! Dave checked me in - a traveler by his own right - and Jim, the house parent, explained how he started the hostel. It was a nice place to lay my head down for the night...
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Seattle, WA - Bumbershoot!
Not wanting to disappoint, Seattle lived up to its stereotype and poured all morning. But that worked out fairly well because it gave me a chance to attack the jungle that is the back of my vehicle. For some reason the less space I have, the less mess I make. Going from a bicycle to an SUV just made the few things I do have EXPLODE and take up the entire back of the car. So after some serious wrestling (a country's worth of maps can really put up a good fight!) I managed to put my life back into a pannier or two;) As if on cue, the rain cleared and sunshine streamed in the windows, beckoning me to explore downtown.
This weekend is Bumbershoot. Bumbershoot is:
A) an English term for umbrella
B) a large music/arts festival in Seattle
C) cause for massive amounts of people on public transportation
How about we go with D) ALL OF THE ABOVE! I clambered onto the bus to downtown Seattle and was immediately thrown into memories of my days in Boston's public transportation:) When I was able to have control of my own limbs and fresh air again I decided I wasn't done yet - more mobs of people! - and threw myself into the throng headed into Pike's Place Market. It really is a Market to shame all other markets. Flowers, veggies, artwork, fresh seafood, fruits, knickknacks, etc, etc, etc. It just goes on and on and all the while there are musicians along the street playing their hearts out (or as one group, the Tall Boys, stated it: "we're turning calories to music"). Yes Please! Needing a little moment of calm, I found myself in Vital T Leaf for a free tea tasting. Nothing chills you out like trying dozens of flavors of steeped yumminess. Refreshed, I walked back into the sunshine and into the gallery of Billy King - took in my surroundings of really intriguing artwork, had great conversation about Mexico, and learned that I have a very long lifeline on my palm. Nice! The evening found me prancing my way through the outdoor sculpture garden, catching up with old friends, and then heading back across the bridge to be greeted with tacos and a glass of wine!
An evening of keyboard & ukulele music and I think this day has provided a rather positive view of the Emerald City!
This weekend is Bumbershoot. Bumbershoot is:
A) an English term for umbrella
B) a large music/arts festival in Seattle
C) cause for massive amounts of people on public transportation
How about we go with D) ALL OF THE ABOVE! I clambered onto the bus to downtown Seattle and was immediately thrown into memories of my days in Boston's public transportation:) When I was able to have control of my own limbs and fresh air again I decided I wasn't done yet - more mobs of people! - and threw myself into the throng headed into Pike's Place Market. It really is a Market to shame all other markets. Flowers, veggies, artwork, fresh seafood, fruits, knickknacks, etc, etc, etc. It just goes on and on and all the while there are musicians along the street playing their hearts out (or as one group, the Tall Boys, stated it: "we're turning calories to music"). Yes Please! Needing a little moment of calm, I found myself in Vital T Leaf for a free tea tasting. Nothing chills you out like trying dozens of flavors of steeped yumminess. Refreshed, I walked back into the sunshine and into the gallery of Billy King - took in my surroundings of really intriguing artwork, had great conversation about Mexico, and learned that I have a very long lifeline on my palm. Nice! The evening found me prancing my way through the outdoor sculpture garden, catching up with old friends, and then heading back across the bridge to be greeted with tacos and a glass of wine!
An evening of keyboard & ukulele music and I think this day has provided a rather positive view of the Emerald City!
Missoula, MT to Seattle, WA
I covered a lot, geographically speaking. The morning was spent wandering around downtown Missoula and meeting up with new friend Scott at the Old Post for nourishment (oh yummy food!). Missoula is home to a huge range of people; it has everyone from-business suit-clad, fast walkers to tattooed, hawked chain-smokers to guitar-playing, vagabond hippies. And another other combination. The real highlight of my day was the following seven hours of watching the landscape unfold and change in front of me.
As soon as you hit far western Montana the mountains are just thick with dark green trees. The fullness of it is a cushion. And then you enter Idaho. Nothing prepared me for the genuine-ness of Idaho. This is probably the most difficult thing to explain because I didn't even really stop or meet anyone IN Idaho but for some reason that state has left the most pleasant, warm-fuzzy in my heart. As soon as I passed the "Welcome to Idaho" sign I was able to just put the car in neutral and coast down a slide of scenically diminishing mountains. They slowly decrescendoed into what look sort of like huge potato hills (I know - the spuds are only subconsciously there because I reallllly wanted to see some). But the mountains there do have a crumbly, chunkier feel to them. Even the Coeur D'Alene lake and river are friendly. And the bike trail running across the state, beside I-90... *sigh* that is one I will definitely be coming back to bike someday. It was asphalt as smooth as glass, gliding down the mountains.
Fun observation: In Montana all the signs along the highway read "Wildlife Crossing" but in Idaho they read "Game Crossing."
I slid right out of Idaho as sweetly as I came in. Washington. Beautiful, golden Washington. The fields are all soft and light. Even the clouds seem to be lit with gold from within. Even when you get to the central, agricultural belt of the state it doesn't seem harsh at all. On the contrary - from the second I entered Washington, still hundreds of miles from the coast, I could feel the pull of the Pacific. It was another strange sensation that doesn't seem to make sense until you have been there. It is like you expect to see a sea-torn coast in front of you after every little rise in the road. Then. THEN you see the mountains again. But these mountains are regal. They are like the old grizzly bear of all mountains. I felt like I was driving at a wall of gray-blue clouds only to realize it was rock rising out of the horizon. Although I was trying to get to Seattle in a timely manner, I did stop along the Colombia River to gaze at the setting sun stretching out over what could surely have been the setting for many a wind-swept love story.
I finally pulled into Seattle in the dark. A sea of lights met me. Quite the overwhelming sight after being in the wilderness of Montana for such a large chunk of time! My hosts here are fantastic, as usual:) Tie and Chris opened their gorgeous home to me and now my only job is to check out the city and make friends with Linus (pooch) and Duke (kitty). Not too rough;)
As soon as you hit far western Montana the mountains are just thick with dark green trees. The fullness of it is a cushion. And then you enter Idaho. Nothing prepared me for the genuine-ness of Idaho. This is probably the most difficult thing to explain because I didn't even really stop or meet anyone IN Idaho but for some reason that state has left the most pleasant, warm-fuzzy in my heart. As soon as I passed the "Welcome to Idaho" sign I was able to just put the car in neutral and coast down a slide of scenically diminishing mountains. They slowly decrescendoed into what look sort of like huge potato hills (I know - the spuds are only subconsciously there because I reallllly wanted to see some). But the mountains there do have a crumbly, chunkier feel to them. Even the Coeur D'Alene lake and river are friendly. And the bike trail running across the state, beside I-90... *sigh* that is one I will definitely be coming back to bike someday. It was asphalt as smooth as glass, gliding down the mountains.
Fun observation: In Montana all the signs along the highway read "Wildlife Crossing" but in Idaho they read "Game Crossing."
I slid right out of Idaho as sweetly as I came in. Washington. Beautiful, golden Washington. The fields are all soft and light. Even the clouds seem to be lit with gold from within. Even when you get to the central, agricultural belt of the state it doesn't seem harsh at all. On the contrary - from the second I entered Washington, still hundreds of miles from the coast, I could feel the pull of the Pacific. It was another strange sensation that doesn't seem to make sense until you have been there. It is like you expect to see a sea-torn coast in front of you after every little rise in the road. Then. THEN you see the mountains again. But these mountains are regal. They are like the old grizzly bear of all mountains. I felt like I was driving at a wall of gray-blue clouds only to realize it was rock rising out of the horizon. Although I was trying to get to Seattle in a timely manner, I did stop along the Colombia River to gaze at the setting sun stretching out over what could surely have been the setting for many a wind-swept love story.
I finally pulled into Seattle in the dark. A sea of lights met me. Quite the overwhelming sight after being in the wilderness of Montana for such a large chunk of time! My hosts here are fantastic, as usual:) Tie and Chris opened their gorgeous home to me and now my only job is to check out the city and make friends with Linus (pooch) and Duke (kitty). Not too rough;)
Friday, September 4, 2009
Glacier National Park, MT to Missoula, MT
A little bit of a backtrack for sure, but I decided to head back to Missoula late after a day in the Park for a shower and real bed before heading back on the road for a while.
My morning was as picturesque as any imaginable. The sunrise lit up the treeline with purple and pink, beckoning me awake as softly as possible. Air in the mountains is chilly and although it made me snuggle into my sleeping bag even more, it also invigorated my excitement for another hike. So after breaking down camp and a small hike around the lakes I headed back to the other side of the park again (yes, a little bit too much back and forth but completely worth it). There, I hopped the shuttle that takes you all the way across the park on the Going To The Sun road. Even though that road gets big attention - it delivers. As soon as the side drops away to valleys and the other side is a wall of rock, there is the thrill of danger, even safely tucked into a bus seat. My intention was to do a shorter day and then head back to Missoula. Hah. Intentions. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, or so they say;) And if changing your plans constantly is hell... well then, I am paving myself a solid gold road there. I got out to hike at Sun Point and my quick walk turned into a lengthier photo tour as I reached the lake, and streams, and gorge. Something about mountain streams is unreal. And I would say indescribable but I will attempt: the water doesn't just flow, it skips and teases its way along rocks whose colors defy explanation. Green rocks aren't just green, they are fresh with water and hints of blue. Red stones have the alien quality of something untouched, something unearthed from eons before humans. Mesmerizing waters.
Therefore, it was already afternoon when I reached Logan Pass. And yet again, my attempts to stop in and stop out were thwarted. Though an easy 1.5 mile walkway leads to the overlook there, the beauty of everything takes any notions of time and snatches them away. Moments turn to minutes turn to ... a missed shuttle bus... and leaving the park well into the evening. But oh so worth it - mountain goats and bighorn sheep littered the hills near the overlook. I cannot get enough of Glacier. Even the people here are exciting - all filled with the same enthusiasm for the beauty of their surroundings.
My treat for finally pulling myself from the Park was a glorious drive through Swan Lake and a moon that literally caused me to gasp out loud. Full and throwing its light over everything in that magical way that only the borrowed light cast from the moon creates. Back in Missoula, I didn't have to tug to hard to convince Jeff that we needed to go hike up the hill and lay out under the huge, white orb in the sky. Ah, Montana, you have stolen my heart...
My morning was as picturesque as any imaginable. The sunrise lit up the treeline with purple and pink, beckoning me awake as softly as possible. Air in the mountains is chilly and although it made me snuggle into my sleeping bag even more, it also invigorated my excitement for another hike. So after breaking down camp and a small hike around the lakes I headed back to the other side of the park again (yes, a little bit too much back and forth but completely worth it). There, I hopped the shuttle that takes you all the way across the park on the Going To The Sun road. Even though that road gets big attention - it delivers. As soon as the side drops away to valleys and the other side is a wall of rock, there is the thrill of danger, even safely tucked into a bus seat. My intention was to do a shorter day and then head back to Missoula. Hah. Intentions. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, or so they say;) And if changing your plans constantly is hell... well then, I am paving myself a solid gold road there. I got out to hike at Sun Point and my quick walk turned into a lengthier photo tour as I reached the lake, and streams, and gorge. Something about mountain streams is unreal. And I would say indescribable but I will attempt: the water doesn't just flow, it skips and teases its way along rocks whose colors defy explanation. Green rocks aren't just green, they are fresh with water and hints of blue. Red stones have the alien quality of something untouched, something unearthed from eons before humans. Mesmerizing waters.
Therefore, it was already afternoon when I reached Logan Pass. And yet again, my attempts to stop in and stop out were thwarted. Though an easy 1.5 mile walkway leads to the overlook there, the beauty of everything takes any notions of time and snatches them away. Moments turn to minutes turn to ... a missed shuttle bus... and leaving the park well into the evening. But oh so worth it - mountain goats and bighorn sheep littered the hills near the overlook. I cannot get enough of Glacier. Even the people here are exciting - all filled with the same enthusiasm for the beauty of their surroundings.
My treat for finally pulling myself from the Park was a glorious drive through Swan Lake and a moon that literally caused me to gasp out loud. Full and throwing its light over everything in that magical way that only the borrowed light cast from the moon creates. Back in Missoula, I didn't have to tug to hard to convince Jeff that we needed to go hike up the hill and lay out under the huge, white orb in the sky. Ah, Montana, you have stolen my heart...
Glacier - Exploration!
What a perfect day to explore. The sun woke me up early, so I drove to Two Medicine (East Glacier entrance) and headed to the Scenic Point Trailhead for a ranger led hike. No Ranger. So I grabbed my trusty harmonica and set out into the trail anyways, hoping to catch up with some fellow hikers. After about a half hour of puffing on the little metal music maker I spotted some folks a little ways ahead, so I just made sure to keep within eye sight of them. The trail was lovely - a comfortable hike through woods, along a stream/waterfall, and then popping out onto the side of the mountain. I was surrounded by rock and the skeleton of brittle white trees. And the entire time, another mountain was behind; red and looming. A good three hours later the trail peaks to tundra and rock - and the most spectacular view of the range of mountains dropping off into Eastern Montana, which appears completely flat by comparison. Breathtaking. For the hike down I made friends with Ray and Amy, Seattle natives, who offered a break from the harmonica;) A much quicker jaunt down the trail and I was just in time to head over to dip in the lake, set up my tent, make some dinner, and go listen to some Native Blackfoot stories at the Two Medicine Amphitheater (if you want some fun stories, ask a Blackfoot about dogs....). Back in my tent, I was lulled to sleep by the fading light, outline of trees and mountains, and the sound of ice cold mountain water lapping against rock.
Missoula, MT to Glacier National Park, MT
Woke up early and went for a nice hike near Jeff's house. Found a spot under a bridge, next to a stream and played ukulele for a good hour or so. The acoustics were fantastic down there and I could have stayed all day. My stomach, however, did not agree. It doesn't appreciate music unless it is the music of food being consumed. So I fed myself, refilled my growing pile of waterbottles, and drove north. The drive was, of course, beautiful. Every turn you take in the mountains seems like the most incredible sight you have seen - each time. Haha. Makes for a lot of picture-stops;) When I finally did manage to make it to Glacier, I really wasn't prepared for the wild glory of it. Those mountains really do suck you in. Unfortunately evening was quickly approaching so my excursions were short hikes and a little bit of a shuttle ride with driver Barney-from-Idaho-now-Montana. Since park camping costs money, and sleeping in my vehicle is FREE - I drove just outside the park limits and crashed in the good ole SUV for the night.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Bozeman, MT to Missoula, MT
The rain aided my "escape" from the sneaky clutches of Bozeman. I drove in it all morning and then popped out into a sea of sunshine and mountains. The drive up 90 West is beautiful on its own but I decided to take a cruise on an even more scenic route, taking the exit to Anaconda. As soon as I was back into rural areas I passed two fantastic town signs: "Opportunity" quickly followed by "Wisdom." A good sign, eh? (pun intended... hardee har har) Now that I am back on my own, I need to pass time by myself in the car and I found just the thing - those handy harmonicas! Perhaps there is a CARmonica album in the making;)
Made it in to Missoula with more than enough time to walk around and get a look-see at the downtown. It's a lot bigger than Bozeman, so tomorrow I will have to put in some time before heading to Glacier, in order to really check it out. My Montana connection in Traverse City is really hooking me up out here: I had yet another hot shower and warm bed awaiting me in Missoula. And I knew it would be a good place to stay because when I reached into my thrift store sweatshirt pocket just before I met up with my next host, I pulled out a random fortune cookie fortune: "Soon, a visitor shall delight you." Jeff (a TC native!) did indeed delight me. Local beers, local people, and the bar down the street followed by some late night dancing under the stars and watchful eye of the mountains.
Made it in to Missoula with more than enough time to walk around and get a look-see at the downtown. It's a lot bigger than Bozeman, so tomorrow I will have to put in some time before heading to Glacier, in order to really check it out. My Montana connection in Traverse City is really hooking me up out here: I had yet another hot shower and warm bed awaiting me in Missoula. And I knew it would be a good place to stay because when I reached into my thrift store sweatshirt pocket just before I met up with my next host, I pulled out a random fortune cookie fortune: "Soon, a visitor shall delight you." Jeff (a TC native!) did indeed delight me. Local beers, local people, and the bar down the street followed by some late night dancing under the stars and watchful eye of the mountains.
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