Dreams

I'm sitting out in front of the Trailhead Cafe here in Oakridge. The skies here have been a bluish white with big plumes of rose colored smoke occasionally drifting up from the Rattle fire down in the Umpqua drainage for the past couple of weeks.

It is one of those days when I could be out doing, but instead I'm sitting and thinking, having conversation with the passers by and considering where I'm going.

Maybe this time of year just brings that out in me, especially here in Oakridge. Things slow down, the visitors of the summer months head home, and the stillness left leaves lots of room for contemplation of one's self.

I find myself thinking of Argentina, not only of the sights I saw when I was there, but the memories I made and the dreams I had. I think of the goals I thought up for myself, and I realize that it is in these quiet times when I have the opportunity to actualize those goals.

My current goals are all about meeting basic needs, staying healthy and having fun. Generally speaking I'd like to: practice yoga regularly, play music, dance, get outside in beautiful places often, have stimulating conversation, make art, and learn about other cultures and stories outside of my sphere of knowledge.

All of this comes within the context of having clean air to breathe, clean water to drink, enough good food to eat, and a comfortable place to spend my nights and days.

Often I find myself focusing on providing these basic necessities for myself, or diverting my energy away from all of the above mentioned goals for the purpose of a short respite from the overwhelmingness of it all.

What are your goals? What do you think is going to happen in the next days, weeks, years of your life? An inquiring mind wants to know.

Floating

Radical. To the root.
Courage. From the heart.
Living. From the heart.

Life usually isn't about being strong enough to hold the world on one's shoulders.
Its about finding the courage.
To say no.
To be you.
To know that the little choices comprise our essence.

Thread Bare

Buildings and bridges
are made to bend in the wind
to withstand the world,
that's what it takes
All that steel and stone
is no match for the air, my friend
what doesn't bend breaks
what doesn't bend breaks

Ani DiFranco

Living in Oregon, working at an outdoor store. Listening to the news as it comes. Banks are collapsing, bikes are being ridden, friends are leaving, and coming, and here. There is no time for the future when I am making time in the now, there is no time for the now if I'm living somewhere else.

Forever
is a long time
but it happens all the time

Natty Lee Gann wrote that.

The summer slips by. Cold grey wildernesses turn to green blue and warm wonderfuls. August. The heat, the grass grows yellow, stops growing. The season of new love slips towards the season of yellowing leaves, of falling petals, of windy days on long mountain ridges. Alone in the world, together with all this wilderness.

My Only, wants to find an Only, and I only want the best for us both. The wind. It blows, in my phone, and when I awake I wonder. What was that wind? Did it speak to me? I can't remember the words.

People worry about everyone else, when their own lives are in jeopardy, and struggle to find the holds to grip as they climb towards their own dreams.

I grapple with the tangible in intangible ways.

The world is too complex to see it all as a whole and function logically. We focus on the experiences most meaningful to us and make qualitative judgements derived from these experiences, thereby becoming individuals, yet still within a mass. All moving in the same direction is seems, yet all going about in our own directions.

And ahh, The Thread. It is there, it is hard, it is soft. I can grab it, I can't find it. Did I lose my thread? No I'm IN my thread.

So I Went a Wandering

There were lakes high and warm and beautiful. Arucaria trees and their beautiful bark, and flowers more than one's eye could capture. I walked into the wilderness one day. Hiking up and away from Pucon, away from civilization, into a quiet place unto my own.

Ahhh, the trip was really getting under way.

Chile; finally, again, at last.

Finally! Some pictures from Chile! I flew into Santiago on a sunny and fairly clear day, arriving from the Northwestern side of the city. The plane approached over desolate, dry, and mountainous country reminiscent of Nevada. Only as we were about to touch down in Santiago did I get my first glimpse of Chilean greenery, an agricultural area near the airport.

From the airport I hailed a taxi. With my limited Spanish, and even more limited geographic and cultural understanding of Chile and Santiago I ended up paying about $80 for a 20 minute cab ride into the city. There I was happy to be on the ground, at a hostel I had found online with the help of a friend of a friend of my mother.

I put as much of my stuff (pictured in Portland before I left) as I could into the locker provided at the hostel, and went walking around Santiago. The hostel was located near the city center and Plaza de Armas, so I went there to see what it was all about. Santiago is alive with life, pedestrians everywhere sometimes forming critical masses to cross busy streets on red lights, making places like Los Angeles seem empty and isolating with everyone hiding in their car. I enjoyed walking around, although I was nervous because I didn't understand the culture, or much of the language and I was carrying my passport, cash, and camera on my person.

However I was never threatened and mostly felt uncomfortable because I am not used to having so many people so very close around me. The Plaza de Armas is a neat open park space with brick pavers, lots of open space, and a few trees. It is surrounded by museums (I think) and churches, notably a big catholic cathedral with the pictured statue adorning the roof top.
I went into the church and enjoyed the peaceful tranquility of the place amongst the hundreds of people quietly sitting and reflecting or praying inside.

Santiago continued to catch me by surprise with the many loose dogs on the streets, literally sleeping underfoot. There are big pedestrian only streets there too, filled from building to building with people going in in every direction, overwhelming but beautiful at once.

From Santiago I bussed and thumbed rides south towards Pucon with a brave little American woman named. She is a retired teacher, and bluntly told me: buses are boring it will be much more interesting to hitch hike. Logic I couldn't refuse.

Our trip south was indeed interesting, and we had some good rides. We split up along the way, me going on to Pucon, her staying behind in Chillan where we had found a good, cheap, hospedaje, or hostel in someones home.

Chillan was the real thing. Poor, but honest and real. The people walked where they went, and were not trying to be anything besides what they really are. Image is nothing, reality is everything. Well as far as I could tell anyhow.

I went on to Pucon, anxious to get to the mountains. I felt like I was traveling north from Sacramento into Northern California and onward to Oregon. Only it was a mirror image. Pucon was very touristy, with lots of drunk and well to do people from all over the world walking the streets and sunbathing at the local lakeside beach. I was pretty dissapointed with the town, as it reminded me of the parts of American Culture I despise- gluttonous consumption, and a disregard for the welfare of those around you, arrogance- but the food was indeed good and I found some sushi to eat. It was kind of a paradox for me to be in South America eating sushi.

I stayed at the Wohlenberg Hostel, a second generation German family there took every visitor in like family. Thanks to them I had a safe place to crash and find some info on the trails in the area. I rented a Huffy from them and went on a nice 40 km ride along dirt roads, out to a place called Los Ojos, the eyes; here water as blue as an emerald poured freely from the ground and began a river.

Soon I grew anxious to get into the mountains, as Volcan Villarica (pictured) is ajacent to town and very beautiful indeed. I caught a bus to Parque Nacional Herquehue, where I began a long and steep hike up to some beautiful natural lakes. I snapped the picture of the lake and mountain behind on my way up the hill looking back where I had come from (I had begun hiking at the far end of the lake).

End of Introduction to Eugene's Chile trip. Stay tuned for Part One: The Hike.

No Pictures!

I have some great pictures I want to upload, but Blogger won't let me at the moment. It is late I'll try again tomorrow.

Thrivin' in the Northwest

Wow, I can't believe it is almost two months since my last post! What happened? Where did I go?

Well, after our excellent mountain bike vacation in Moab I returned to Oakridge. I've been here or near here since then. Living in the Airstream, riding mountain bikes and telemark skiing in the beautiful forests and mountains near Oakridge, riding the road bike (to Bend one weekend), going to see Spearhead and Michael Franti in Eugene, and keeping the Mountain Mercantile going on the days I'm in the shop. But most importantly, I've been doing all of these things with wonderful people, my community.

Sorry I've been letting things get stale here. I probably look at the blog more frequently than anyone (it is my home page). I just haven't been motivated to write, to post my photos.
But, thanks to the Empress, the Polywog, the Garros, Mirfak, the Zen Tea Poet, Bearbait, WinTrees and all others who have given me a push recently, I have been encouraged to keep going, to follow my thread ever onward, and to keep you all posted about what it is that I'm up to.

Although I haven't been posting, I have been thinking, taking pictures, and thriving in a non bloggin' way, and there are plenty of interesting pictures to post and subjects to write on.

For today I'm going to keep it short, post a few pictures of the recent weeks, and be glad to have some fresh content up.

Thanks for encouraging me, its good to be back.