Adjustment

Going up and up and up and over the snowy Rockies. Down into the flat, empty, boring plains of eastern Colorado and Kansas. Kansas goes on forever. Missouri does, too. Grass, silos, the occasional oil well. There goes the St. Louis arch. Now southern Illinois and suddenly there are trees instead of grass. Indiana and small towns.

Kentucky and the road gets narrower, closer to the creek, the hillsides getting steeper. Bluegrass, bourbon, Daniel Boone, Appalachian Kentucky. We tucked our tent into the tent city behind Miguel's and climbed while hiding from thunderstorms. I saw my first funnel cloud forming in the sky, a weird sense of clouds going both ways at once before my brain suddenly thought of Toto and flying cows. The steep climbing in Red River Gorge is outstanding, as is the community. I had my personal best day of climbing, completely relaxed and not attached to anything other than my fingers and toes on the rock.

Moving on. I felt like I was going faster, time was speeding up, everything was more intense the farther east I went. Is that always true? The green of western Virginia (not West Virginia) was unsettling after two months in beige and brown. I recognized this landscape as familiar and pondered why it didn't feel that way. North Carolina and holy heaven so many people. How can it be so crowded here? Where are stillness and silence? Why is everything happening so fast, yet nothing is happening? Speeding up through Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey.

And now: New York State. Tompkins County. City of Ithaca.

I sit at a desk in return for money. I cook on a stove and always have a shower at my disposal. I make plans more than 24 hours in advance. I don't wear hiking boots.

I used to live like this. This used to be my normal, so part of me remembers this. I know the streets of Ithaca like the back of my hand. I'm sitting in the same cubicle in the same office (I even found some old tea I'd left in a drawer). I take the same shortcuts, shop in the same grocery store, hang out with the same people. I've slipped right back through a door that I'd thought I'd slammed shut, padlocked, bolted three times, and nailed shut with boards. It's as if I'd stayed at home for just a few days due to a nasty case of the flu, then reappeared in society. Occasionally I get a weird sense of deja vu when something is slightly different. But everything is pretty much the same.

Except I'm different. I stumble when anyone asks if and how I've changed. (Most people, though, haven't asked much about my experiences--I look the same, talk the same, even dress in my old clothes, so what could be different?). Well, of course I'm different. With every second of the minute, I, and you, and every one in this world, are changing. I'm not prepared to elaborate on my changes from the past year in a public way. I've been handed some pretty huge life lessons and perspectives, and I need to take some time to myself to make sure they stick around.  I'm sure I'll write again, at some point, when I have a better idea of what I want to say (and what I want to do with this blog in the future).

Eastbound, At Last

For the first time in well over a year, I'm headed eastbound instead of westbound. Moving westbound last year, west and farther west still, brought me around the globe—and then I continued west, again, this year.

Always chasing the setting sun, I've occasionally wondered if my perpetual westward heading related to some conclusion in the broader context of my life. Cutting myself free closed one chapter. This year I'll turn 29, completing my 30th year on this planet. As I turn eastbound, toward the rising sun, I can't help but think about beginnings, about joyfully opening a new chapter, and about everything I can look forward to.  :-)

sunrise over tuateawa bay, new zealand

Anyway! What's happened since I've turned eastbound? Seems like my priority has been adventuring, rather than writing about adventures. Some day I'll write more about my time out West. But, for now, here's a quick update, starting from California.

San Francisco: I rejoined Davo, and we went to Muir Woods so he could see the Redwood trees. John Muir is quite an inspiration to me (this blog is named for one of his quotations). The place was crammed with people, even though it was raining, so it wasn't really a place for quiet contemplation and reflection.

golden gate bridge, after the rain

That evening, we hung out with Jenny O, an awesome woman we know from Ithaca. The weather sucked, so we decided to move on to...

Yosemite and Sequoia National Parks: which we did not get to visit. Still snowed in, tire chains required. We continued on to...

Death Valley National Park: In the hottest, driest place in North America, I experienced the worst, coldest, wettest, nastiest weather of the road trip when a freak storm blew through. There was tons of rockfall across Towne Pass; we checked in with four cars disabled on the side of the road in poor visibility with rocks still falling around them as it snowed. So that's why they call it Death Valley!

"colorful"--for the desert--salt creek, home of the salt creek pupfish

Death Valley was more interesting than I expected, because of all of the organisms that have evolved to survive in this environment. Life will find a way! It was also more photogenic than I expected, with colorful badlands next to pure white salt flats under a blue desert sky.

Red Rocks National Conservation Area: Red Rocks NCA is ten miles in distance and a million miles in feeling from the Las Vegas strip. We did a half-day hike up Turtlehead Peak.

And, of course, we climbed! It was my first experience on desert sandstone, and I enjoyed the awesome weather, amazing scenery, super sticky rock, and very chilled out vibe. (Not going to lie, it was a nice, undeserved ego boost to climb about two grades harder than I do on the East Coast.)

red rocks panorama

The BLM campsite was totally full, but we found some guys from Colorado who had room for an extra car. Put a bunch of strangers around a campfire and you'd be surprised what wisdom results. I loved Red Rocks, and I would definitely return some day.

Grand Canyon National Park: Moving on to the Grand Canyon, I had no idea what we'd do. The weather wasn't great—overcast and spitting snow—so my first impressions of the canyon weren't, well, very impressive. Plus, backcountry camping permits book out months in advance.

Yet somehow our lack of planning and total flexibility snagged us a permit for Indian Garden! We hung out on the rim for a day and camped outside the park in Kaibab National Forest. The next day, we hiked 5,000 vertical feet down the canyon (via South Kaibab Trail), took lunch on the Colorado River, and hiked back up the canyon 2,000 vertical feet (via Bright Angel Trail). The next morning, we hiked out the remaining 3,000 vertical feet, in sunshine for the first time.

with the colorado river below us

Everyone talks about the Grand Canyon like it's the most amazing place on earth. I thought it was really impressive, but something about the hordes of people and the overly-maintained trails kept me from connecting with the Canyon. It is much more of a tourist attraction than a wilderness experience, which is fine—just not my cup of tea.

For personal and family reasons, I assumed that our southwestern adventures would probably end here. But a sweet turn of events meant that we continued to southern Utah... and that deserves a post of its own!

California or Bust!

I had a week to go from Los Angeles to San Francisco while Dave had a job on the East Coast.  I decided to head up the scenic Pacific Coast Highway, Route 1.

Santa Monica National Recreation Area:  When I think of heaven, this is what I imagine...  happy little hiking trails, cliff faces, lots of green, trickling creeks, blooming wildflowers, bird song...  ahhh it was just so darn pretty!  I hiked the Mishe Mokwa Trail to TriPeaks, where I went off trail and almost stepped on a snake (sorry buddy!), to the Backbone Trail to Sandstone Peak, the highest in the Santa Monica Mountains.


I wanted to hike in the Angeles National Forest, but a lot of the trails are still closed due to the Station Fire back in 2008.  A few different rangers suggested checking out the Morro Bay area outside San Luis Obispo, so I headed there.

Montana de Oro State Park & Morro Bay:  Let me tell you, this isn't the Jersey Shore or Malibu!  Tidal pools packed with anemones and hermit crabs...  cliffs dropping straight into the churning surf...  dense fog rolling in off the water and turning everything dream-like.  I'm not much of a beach person, I prefer the mountains, but I'm glad I went here to experience the California coast.

The next day, I decided to walk up Cerro Cabrillo, Cabrillo Hill.  It's something less than 1,000 feet, like 3 miles round-trip, I thought I'd knock it off in an hour.  Holy crap on toast, I was wrong!  The first third is a gentle uphill on a wide track.  The second third is a respectable uphill puffer on a beaten-earth track.  And the final third?  Bushwhacking through poison oak while avoiding snakes.  I totally lost the track on the way back down and survived the whackest of bushwhacks I've ever experienced.  I'm going to burn the pants I was wearing because I'm positive they're infused with 100% poison oak oil and will never be safe to wear ever again.  It was nasty and awesome.

the look on my face after the bushwhack...  WHEW!

Route 1 and Big Sur:  how to describe the California coast...  MOODY.  Not spectacular, not dramatic, not serene, but rather... infused with subtle feelings.  Everything here is a shade of gray, especially when the fog rolls in, which is always.  It seems like this would be the place to reach some sort of far-reaching personal conclusion about the workings of something or other.  Does that sound weird?  Something about the loneliness of driving this road in the middle of the week...  how the waves keep crashing, crashing, crashing against an unobserved cliff...  the way the fog burns off the peaks of the ridges before the valleys...

I visited Big Sur and day-hiked the famous Pine Ridge Trail.  It would make an awesome backpacking trip.

I was surprised to learn that Big Sur is the far southern end of the range of the great Redwood tree.  Most of the trees I saw were freaking huge by east-coast standards, but rather puny by Redwood standards.  I decided to head farther north in search of the giants.

the trees might not be huge, but the banana slugs are!

And then the highway fell into the ocean.  Oh, s***.  At first, I heard it would be closed 3-7 days.  Now crews say a month.  I backtracked a few hours and went up and over the Santa Lucia mountains.

AP Photo/Monterey Herald, Orville Myers, http://www.pressdemocrat.com/article/20110318/WIRE/110319452?Title=Hwy-1-on-state-s-central-coast-may-be-closed-a-month

Big Basin Redwoods State Park:  Why this park?  I don't have a good reason, other than acknowledging that something told me in no uncertain terms that I had to go.  I've learned not to second guess those intuitions.

It was AMAZING.  The little half-mile "Redwoods Trail" brought me past some of the largest trees in the park.

the "father of the forest" is 66 feet, 9 inches around

the "mother of the forest" is 329 feet tall and 70 feet around.  take that, dad!

I also walked the Skyline to Sea Trail to the Dool Trail to the Creeping Forest Trail.  This park wins on trail names alone!  The forest was SO lush, SO green, and then there are monster trees everywhere.

a bridge made out of a downed redwood

The hardest part of being a bum in California has been finding non-sketchy, non-illegal places to sleep at night.  I really wanted a break from the stress of figuring out where I would park for the night, so I paid for a campsite in the park, nestled in a grove of redwoods, right next to a shower block (aaahhh!).  Wisely, I slept in the car and awoke to the pitter-patter of raindrops sliding off the redwoods, my tent still dry under the car seat.  I stayed in my sleeping bag until 9:30 a.m. when I reasoned that I had been hibernating for 12 hours.

campsite among the redwoods

Hanging out with the redwoods was a very peaceful experience. Some of these trees were seedlings during the Byzantine Empire...  saplings during the Dark Ages...  already eight feet in diameter when Columbus landed in the Americas.  Spending any length of time in a grove of redwoods reminds me that I am very small and very insignificant.  Not in a bad way, though.  It feels reassuring to know that there was so much before me and there will be so much after and beyond me.

From Arizona to California

It's raining.  On the one hand:  bummer.  On the other hand:  I can hang out in this nice library surrounded by books and write a few updates!  Picking up where I left off...

Cochise Stronghold:  After Saguaro National Park, we climbed a day at Cochise Stronghold.  Our couchsurf hosts spoke highly of the place, and they were right.  Fantastic granite and thought-provoking moves, even on the easy stuff.  This day, though, I missed my climbing friends in Ithaca and wished that we were together.

yucca and cochise granite

Then California!

Joshua Tree National Park:  the Joshua Trees look so odd, like something Dr. Seuss would draw.  We did a day hike out into the desert and up a canyon.  I'm sick of desert hiking.  Just not the type of place where I feel at home, comfortable, refreshed, at peace--how I usually feel after hiking.

We climbed a half-day since we had quickdraws but no trad rack.  Ooops!  We climbed on Pixie Rock...  lots of smearing and lots of open grip hands.   I desperately attempted to crimp on microscopic numbs and to edge on non-existent features before I gave in to the style the rock required.  Then it went ok, and I climbed my first outside 5.10 (no cheating, this time!).

I thought I would love JTree, but I only liked it.

joshua tree and sunset

San Bernardino National Forest:  This was an unexpected stop, since we left JTree early.  AWESOME!!! We hiked the Cougar Crest trail out of Big Bear City to the famous Pacific Crest Trail and Bertha Peak.  The northern slopes were still snow-covered, and there were trees and shrubs everywhere overlooking the lake and the ski slopes beyond.  After a month in the parched, beige and brown desert, this was like awakening!

view of big bear lake from the pacific crest trail (PCT)

We volunteered with the Bald Eagle annual census and spotted an adult eagle soaring across the lake!

our eagle census sheet

After the San Bernardinos, I drove Dave to LAX so he could fly back to the East Coast for a rope access job.  And then, I was on my own!

Briefest of Brief Updates

Current location:  Santa Monica, California

Heading:  N by NW (i.e. San Francisco)

Realization:  I'm so totally, hopelessly behind on pictures and blogging and blahblahblah computer crap.  And I don't care!  I simply can't/ won't/ don't make time to get on the computer.  Not when there are trails to hike, mountains to scale, cliffs to climb, and roads yet to be explored.

Announcement:  Regular photo and blog updates will re-re-commence when I've got the time and inclination to tell the story.

Until then...  onwards and upwards!

white sands national monument

Adventures on the Border

Holy smokes! So much has happened since Big Bend it's hard to know where to start (and how to prevent this from turning into ten pages of blahblahblah).

This was our route:

We've been following the southwestern border with Mexico because it's still a bit too cold to venture farther north.

And here are a few highlights from each place we've visited:

Guadalupe Mountains National Park, Texas: Our hiking plans were foiled once by winds gusting to 80 mph. Nearly foiled again by a backcountry fire! We hiked Guadalupe Peak, elevation 8749 feet, the highest point in Texas. Also, I earned my Junior Ranger badge and patch.

Carlsbad Caverns, New Mexico: The caves are more vast and more highly decorated (stalagtites, stalagmites, the whole deal) than you could possibly imagine. We walked down the Natural Entrance and around the Big Room. Though there were facilities for throngs of tourists, we had the entire silent, eerie place to ourselves (yay February visit!).

White Sands National Monument, New Mexico: I thought this would be cheesy, but WHOA it's SO cool! It was so much fun to run up and down the dunes, throwing sand and ourselves into the air, enjoying the contrast between the pure white sand and the brilliantly blue sky.

Las Cruces, New Mexico: Shitty weather and a need to talk to someone other than each other led us to another fantastic Couchsurfing host. I helped her made "authentic" Southwestern enchiladas with mole, played with the three dogs, and chatted about outdoor adventures.

Franklin Mountains State Park, Texas: Our Couchsurfing hosts tipped us off to a little crag called Sneed's Cory outside El Paso. Dave got to christen his new rope, and I made my first sport lead outdoors (on Spirit, 5.6).

Gila National Forest, Wilderness, and Cliff Dwellings, New Mexico: A return to pine forests after three weeks in sandy scrub was refreshing... and COLD! Overnight temps fell to 15-25º F. Chuck, our volunteer tour guide, made the Cliff Dwellings mysterious and exciting. We did an overnight trip up the Little Bear Canyon—a narrow, undulating crack—to camp at its junction with the Middle Fork of the Gila River under soaring, red cliffs. I accomplished 32 stream crossings without whining or anxiety to get from camp to the Jordan Hot Springs and back.

Saguaro National Park, Arizona: The saguaro cacti remind me of human-like trees, or tree-like humans, and they are delightful. In our wanderings around the Sonoran desert, we missed a turn and ended up in a dead-end canyon. Dave continued bushwhacking, while I tucked myself into a rock overcrop with my journal and my thoughts.

At the moment I'm in Tucson, a city whose highways and boulevards sprawl in every direction, a city with abundant sunshine and air but no water (like most southwestern cities, I guess). Today is our rest day, which means RESTING, and also straightening up the car, getting an oil change, putting together some food, internet time at the County Library, and catching up with friends and family.

From here, we're thinking of backtracking east a bit to Cochise Stronghold for a day of climbing, then continuing (surprise, surprise!) west to Joshua Tree National Park in California. We will be in Los Angeles by the 13th for Dave to fly to a job on the East Coast.

Those are the updates for now; library is closing so I gotta run!  I'll write again the next time I have internet access!

P.S. My best photos are posted at picasaweb.google.com/nicotedesco. The albums from White Sands and Saguaro are my favorites.

Big Bend National Park

Big Bend National Park is tucked into the, uh, big bend in the Rio Grande that forms the boundary between western Texas and Mexico. There are three distinct ecosystems here: the river, the desert, and the mountains. The Chisos Basin is in the middle of the park; plants and animals were stranded here in this relatively green, cool, moist pocket at the end of the last Ice Age as cooler temperatures receded north.

Memorable Moments

The highlights of my trip:

~Really tasty camp cooking... except for "cooking" a dehydrated Mountain House meal with solar "heated" water that was barely lukewarm, but hey it was still technically edible!
~The views from Toll Mountain campsite overlook...

~The Camelbak shower, stark naked in the middle of a desert, washing off five days worth of sweat and dust...
~Roadrunners, javelinas (like little wild pigs), miniature deer, coyote noises at night...
~Full moon, amazing night sky, zillions of stars...
~Dave's 27th birthday chocolate bar at the top of Emory Peak...
~Finally learning how to use a Whisperlite stove...
~Views from the South Rim...
~Spending most of an evening pulling those damn tiny, irritating cactus needles out of my arms, legs, and abdomen...



Ok, if you want to know more details about what we hiked and where we camped, read on...

Two Great Backpacking Recipes

Crunchy Tuna Noodles

~2 packages instant noodles with flavor packet
~1-5 oz. can tuna in water
~1 avocado
~2 packets mayo
~2 packets mustard
~Optional: grated parmesan or shredded cheddar cheese

Break up the instant noodles inside the package. Pour into 2 bowls. Add between ¼ and ½ of a single flavor packet to each bowl (save the other to flavor something else). Add half of the tuna, including tuna water, to each bowl. Cut the avocado in half, remove stone, slice each half into small pieces inside the skin, and add to each bowl. Add a packet of mayo and a packet of mustard. Mix very well. Optionally, top with cheese. Serves 2.

Breakfast Couscous

~1 c. whole wheat couscous
~2 c. water
~1/4 c. raisins
~2 small apples or 1 medium apple
~1 tsp. cinnamon
~2 pinches salt

Bring water to a boil. Add to couscous, cover, let stand 5-10 minutes until couscous has more than doubled in size and water is absorbed. While couscous is rehydrating, chop apple into small bits. Mix together couscous, raisins, chopped apple, cinnamon, and salt. Serves 2.

Life Update!

That "big announcement" that I alluded to in the last post?

The Western Road Trip is happening. Right now, actually.

Dave and I left Raleigh on a Tuesday and drove up to the Blue Mountains, spending the night in Asheville. From Asheville out of the mountains and across the plains to Little Rock, Arkansas... then out of the plains and through the forest, across the Mississippi and south into the hot Tejano emptiness to Austin, Texas... from Austin to the empty, searing, parched, wild country of western Texas.

Along the way, we couchsurfed with some excellent people who have given me plenty of encouragement that I'm headed in the right direction, which always seems to be West.

So we ended up in Big Bend National Park. That deserves its own post. In fact, west Texas deserves its own post, too.

What's the plan? Right now, I'm taking it one day at a time. We talk to people and that's how we decide where to go. Seems like we keep running into the right people! Most likely, we'll stay in the Southwest (Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, southern California, and southern Utah), unless it warms up enough to head north of the 35th latitude.

What is life like these days? All of our stuff fits precisely into the back of Dave's Toyota Matrix. I've got the necessities; much of my wardrobe is exactly the same duds I've been wearing for the past year. Just keep sewing up the holes. We can sleep in the back by piling our bags and crates onto the driver's and passenger's seats, which is very convenient. Most of the time, though, we sleep in a tent. We've been doing "primitive" camping: bringing in our own water, digging our own latrine holes, and using headlamps for light. We've made all our food with one pot over a single campstove flame. Chow has been pretty good thus far; recipes forthcoming as well. In my opinion, hardly "primitive." Exactly what I need; nothing more, nothing less.

What do we do? During the day, we're either hiking or driving. Dave does most of the driving, because I get too sleepy and distracted. In the passenger's seat, I prep snacks, change the music, try not to sleep all the time, and beg Dave to stop at everything I find interesting (which is too much).

How am I affording all this travel? I get asked that frequently, and I don't think most folks understand exactly how short our shoestring budget is. The other day we spent a little under $40 for groceries, buying 34 items, and that will feed us for days. Twenty bucks total for the both of us for camping the entire time we were in Big Bend (one $10 night outside the park, one $10 backcountry permit). Gas is expensive, of course. At some point, I'll do a few budgeting posts about how I saved for this trip and what my principle expenses have been (I'm a former analyst—you betcha I kept track).

By picking up odd jobs and seasonal jobs, I could probably live like this forever... or until I wanted to have a community or to buy land or to go back to school or to have a kid. I do find something approaching profound in being forced to live in the moment, to be present to enjoy today, to leave tomorrow to take care of itself. Still, eventually I'm going to want to do one or more of the above things.

So what's next? Due to a combination of family and personal factors, we'll be back on the east coast sometime this spring. Dave and I are looking at jobs back in the Finger Lakes and northwards. I might want to go back to school (though I'm not ready to say what I'll be studying). If it looks like we'll stay put, it might be time to put our names on a piece of land. I like the idea of buying a yurt: one, it's sturdier than a nylon tent; two, I dislike debt and a mortgage is just that; three, we can always pick it up and move again.

There's my update. What's new with you?

Here, There, Everywhere

So what's new since I've been back?  The past six weeks have been a weird combination of being homeless yet staying in family homes, of staying put and moving around, and of thinking of the future without making any solid plans.

Started off in New York State with Dave's mother (and sister, sister's boyfriend, brother, brother's fiancee, brother's child-to-be, grammy, pitbull/ mushy spaghetti mix, and other assorted characters).

Took a side trip to Ithaca.  Went climbing.  It was exactly as painful as I thought it would be.  Awesome.

On the way back to downstate, we detoured through the Catskills and hiked Hunter Mountain.  Second time in my life that I've felt exposed skin start to freeze.  BRRR!!

Next up:  a week in Florida for Dave's father's wedding.  The primary reason I'm back in the U.S.A.  Somehow I didn't take any pictures all week, but I did read four books.

Back to New York.

Side trip to New Jersey to visit my family.  My cousins are far cooler than I will ever be.

Go south.

On the way, stop in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to see a few of my high school buddies, in Baltimore, Maryland to see one of Dave's friends, and in Williamsburg, Virginia to see J-T-W (who had joined us in Nepal for trekking).

Temporary final destination:  North Carolina.  My parents moved here while I was abroad.  This was the first time I'd visited their new home.

angie invades my snow cave

summit of hunter mountain

my family & cool cat cousins

davo and jtw, sittin' in a tree...

playing with fire in north carolina

So, what's next???

Well, I can say that there's some big stuff about to go down in the next few days.  At this point, not going to get more specific than that, because (1) my plans have been changing by the day, and (2)...

...I'm trying to decide whether I want to (a) continue writing for the public, or (b) drop off the radar (again) for a little bit.

If anyone is reading this, (I) do you keep a public journal/ blog (and why/why not), and (II) what have been your favorite posts on One Great Dewdrop?

Go West, and Grow Up With the Country

At 5:00 p.m. on Saturday, January 1, 2011, Aerosvit Airlines Flight 131 touched down on the JFK tarmac.  After 313 days for me, 365 days for Davo, we were back in the U.S.A.

I've been back for 36 hours.  I'm adjusting ok.  I washed my clothing in a washing machine and dried it in a dryer.  For the first time in months, my clothes felt clean, like really clean, and the colors are brighter.  If you wear the same clothes for a year, you'll know what I mean.  I've enjoyed drinking water from the tap.  I could do that in Israel, and even in Turkey, but the water tastes better here.  In fact, I'm going to get a glass of water right now.  The first time I plugged in my computer, I wondered which plug adapter I should use and decided on my universal adapter, but then I realized that I don't need a plug adapter anymore.  That was silly.

It's no secret that I didn't want to come back.  The world is big and beautiful, and I want to be a part of it, everywhere, all the time.  I've learned what types of experiences are fulfilling to me, which types of places I love, and I know how to spot the open, warm, wise faces of people who are my future friends.  If I could take off again, oh! the adventures I would have...

But here I am.  And I'm ok with that.  I've been singing a little song in my head, quietly reminding myself
"Don't give the sellers of stuff
power enough
to rob you of your grace--
Love is all over the place."

So what's next?  Where will I go, what will I do?

Well, it's become abundantly clear that Davo and I are not "desk job" people.  In retrospect, I'm surprised I survived at a desk for as long as I did, though in retrospect, I was awfully depressed at times.  Dave?  At a desk?  Wearing a collared shirt?  I'd eat a maggot before I'd believe it (apologies to people who eat maggots).

I don't remember which of us said it first, nor when it was said, but at some point our gentle jokes about "Well, we can always be farmers, har har har" stopped being facetious and started being real.  All we need, all we want, is a small piece of land where we could grow our own food, generate our own energy, find our creativity, and generally live our lives away from televisions screaming buybuybuy.  Is a homestead the idyllic dream of naive kids from the 'burbs?  Well, was an open-ended wander around the world an idyllic dream of cubical rats?  Who's afraid to live their dreams?

Changing subjects.  I met an Iranian in Nepal.  After making me eat almonds and raisins out of small burlap drawstring bags with red Arabic letters (yes, Iranians will carry almonds and raisins to 16,000 feet), after taking photographs together with his friends on multiple cameras (man, Iranians are friendly), he proceeded to give me advice on which canyons I should visit in the western United States.  Despite our governments' mutual loathing of each other, the Iranian had obtained multiple visas to my country and had seen three, four, ten times as much of it as had I.  I was slightly embarrassed.

I would have talked more with the Iranian, but Dave started vomiting blood, so we needed to excuse ourselves.  But it got me thinking--I've seen a little bit of the world, but I haven't seen much of my own country, the place that everyone and their brother loves and loves to hate.  Through and through, I'm American, a Yankee girl.  What if I explored the U.S.A?  What would I find?

And so the idea was born.  An epic road trip across North America, combining apprentice work on organic farms with hikes through the monumental National Parks system.

Davo and I have talked in circles about 2011.  Would he thru-hike the AT while I went to Argentina?  Would we both go to Mexico?  Would he stay in New York to play Ultimate while I went to British Columbia to plant trees?  Would we head west, together, again, this time on the Epic North American Road Trip of 2011?

Ok, ok, I'll get to the point.  As of 6:46 a.m. on Sunday, January 2, 2011, the probabilities of the known possibilities are as follows:
--Epic North American Road Trip of 2011:  95% and trending upward
--We both go to Latin America:  2%
--I go to Latin America, Dave thru-hikes and plays frisbee:  2%
--We "grow up" and get jobs:  0% and trending downward
*Probabilities do not sum to 100% due to rounding.  Haha.

So there it is, Mummers.  You've been asking what the hell I'm doing in 2011, and now you know.  We're packing the car with our work gloves and our hiking boots and we're heading west.


If you're reading this, and you know farmers who use organic/ permaculture/ biodynamic methods, especially in the northern States, drop me a line.
If you're reading this, and you live somewhere in North America, and you would enjoy a visit from two vagabonds, drop me a line.
If you're reading this, and you've got suggestions on which National Parks we should visit (all of them?), drop me a line.

Onward and upward!  :-)