God I Love Music

*Blog written 9.29.10 While watching sunset into the Pacific at Oregon Dunes National Recreational Site

Mount Rainier is ridiculous - majestic, powerful, unforgiving, and mysterious. Utterly beautiful in its grander. Mount St. Helens is tragic, destructive, heart-stopping, and awe inspiring.

These mountains are beasts. Part of an active volcano chain in North America and part of the larger Pacific ocean surrounding "Ring of Fire". They will no doubt one day cause the tragic deaths of thousands and thousands of people. Yes...these were some wonderful thoughts to be having as I drove nearer to St. Helens - eyeing ominously its giant blast zone which leveled nearly one whole side of the mountain in 1980. My geology professor at UConn told me he lost two close friends on that May 18th. He said at the time they represented half the worlds volcanologists - a field people still know relatively little about. Four years later I was born on the same date. I've always wanted to see this mountain; partly for the coincidence of its most recent blast and my date of birth and partly for my love of geology. I decided I didn't want to fully experience this mountain alone though, so I hesitantly left - intent to go back and summit its blast crater another day...another year.

As I drove away I knew I made the right decision. It was Saturday and I was only an hour from Portland, Oregon where cold beers and the company of old high school friends were waiting. Portland is a city I'd never seen, but I always seem to meet people whom have been or live there. I'd never heard a negative word mentioned about it....and you're not going to hear a negative word about it from me. Four nights and five days I spent in Portland. My longest stay in any single place on this trip. My buddy Craig who I stayed with plays in a successful band called "Quiet Life" and my visit fell perfectly in line with one of their shows. For four nights I was entertained by live music...God I forgot how good it makes me feel. The first night we saw the record release show of a group called "Pancake Breakfast". Then for two nights I was spoiled as the lone guest of "Quiet Life" practices. Finally on my last night I heard "Quiet Life" kill it live, followed up by Carl Hayes who at moments during his show either left me starring with mouth slightly ajar in awe or grinning from ear to ear uncontrollably. Music has such a powerful hold over me. In times of joy it keeps me up - in times of sadness it consoles. It levels my heart and vibrates my soul - OH when I saw "Quiet Life" play did I wish I could make a guitar talk like they do. The talent needed to make music is unbelievable.

As I left Portland I blasted the radio, trying to recreate the "live effect", but despite the noise, the silence was deafening. I need to find some good live music as I continue on this journey...

I just sat and watched another Pacific sunset....This whole experience, this trip, the people, the places, where I wake up every morning....it's all just so unreal....

Where'd you learn to climb a tree like that??!! THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST!

Border Patrol Man (upon coming back into the U.S.) - "What are you doing up here?"

Me - "I quit my job to travel around the country for a few months"

Border Patrol Man - "What are you rreeaallyy doing up here??"

Can a police officer or someone of authority please explain to me why you're such an asshole?? God damn it...

So...before I had to recross back into America I was in Vancouver...my bike ride around the city ranks as one of the best days on my trip thus far. The city is beautiful and what was supposed to be a rainy miserable day turned out to be blue skied and sunny. That same Friday evening, Celeste, my couch surfing host, took me to the top of a local ski mountain (Mount Seymour) and then out to some of her favorite pubs downtown. Late night we went to a wine bar/art studio and made a hideous piece of art work late into the night. The next day I left Celeste but decided to explore around Vancouver one last day. I happened upon a group of demonstrators holding large flags. The flags either featured the Canadian flag with a marijuana leaf in place of the maple leaf or said "Free Marc" featuring a man smoking. I'd be a damn fool to pass up this opportunity. I grabbed a flag, listened to some speeches, and then marched several blocks chanting "Free Marc." I didn't even know who Marc was. I learned he is a Cannabis advocate and known world wide for is opposition toward marijuana laws. He sold cannabis seeds over the internet and the United States DEA finally convinced Canada to help have him departed to the U.S. for charges. He is now in a Seattle prison and on September 18th there were rallies in over 80 countries around the world for his freedom and release back to Canada. I felt a bit funny and uneasy about being part of the whole thing. I'm a product of a society brought to believe marijuana is an evil, harmful, illegal gateway drug. But this trip is about truth. TRUTH. Much of what we're told as children, much of everything...from Columbus to Marijunana is bullshit. Us prideful Americans have a hard time admitting when we're wrong. Not that the U.S. should release this man - for yes he did commit a crime - but perhaps it would be wise to adopt a law which actually reflects the perceptions of the people then the absurd hope that a law will create a perfect utopian society of lawful citizens. Is marijuana so bad? Should I even be talking about this? In 1727 Benjamin Franklin created the Junto Club - A club with the intention of members improving themselves and others. In order to be accepted you needed to repeat and answer yes to the following: "Do you love truth for truth's sake, and will you endeavor impartially to find and receive it for yourself, and communicate it to others." Yes Franklin, I will try...but often truth is so hard to come by and so hard to communicate.

I didn't know where I was going from Vancouver, but I found my way to the port and within a half an hour I was on the ferry. I'd say about 50% of the time I don't really know where I'm going to be sleeping when I wake up in the morning, but I always mange to find a place. Using my phone I looked up Hostels in the area and decided I'd be heading to Courtenay, British Columbia. I biked around Denman Island - it was deserted around this time of year and rained - but I found I love biking and need to do it more often. I was anxious to move on from BC so after four nights in Canada I left to be back with my brethren in the USA. I spent two glorious nights sleeping on the beach in Olympic National Park and saw an amazing Pacific sunset. I missed the ocean. I believe these last two months are the longest of my entire life that I have not at least gazed at the Atlantic or Pacific. I'll be getting a good look at the Pacific for the next three weeks or so before I head back east from Southern Cali for the desert portion of my road trip. I'm reading some Mark Twain at the moment. This is guy is so fucking hilarious I love it. He may be the man I'd most want to meet. Yes I know he is dead but its one of those hypothetical questions anyways. Well..I've had a splitting headache the last two days - don't know what's up with that....no worries though..making moves to Mt. Rainier...

Smoked Salmon on Denman Island

I'm taking that slow walk;

Echoing and vibrating,

Thoughts bouncing off needles to the stars.

Do you stare at the same moon I do?

Do you see the sun rise and hold your breathe?

Are you looking as I am?

Are you that distant cloud on the horizon?

Or that creaking floor outside my door?

Alas.....Our paths destined to cross;

A wave set across a long distant sea,

Awaiting smooth white sands.

I move on...

Couch Surfing

-This blog was written at a coffee shop in Vancouver, British Columbia around noon PST on 9/17-

My first couch surfing experience was in Yakima, Washington with an older retired man. He had a lot to teach me and I listened with great interest. I work on keeping my mouth closed when meeting others. I have so much to learn. It's crazy how much I don't know. I've gotten exponentially better at stepping outside my comfort zone, but I will forever have work to do. I enjoy learning from people and hearing their stories - the main reason I'm so excited about surfing couches.

For those with no idea what I'm talking about when I say "Couch Surfing", it's a website where people make profiles like on Facebook and open up their homes to travelers. You request a stay on their couch, or floor, or extra room and they then decide if they want or can host you for the requested nights. I'm done with motels - hostels, couch surfing, or friends and family - or of course camping - will be my modes of sleep from here on out.

I'm lucky enough to have family living north of Seattle and I spent three nights there. My cousin Sarah and her boyfriend Dusty live in Marysville, Washington and her brother Doug was visiting from Connecticut. A nice little family reunion. It's difficult living in such lavish conditions and then hitting the road again. I ate delicious meals, sampled wines at local vineyards, saw the Red Sox win thanks to a David Ortiz home run at Safeco, and spent quality hours catching up and sharing time with my cousins. Sarah and Dusty have a beautiful new home and it's one of the many things on this road trip I'm grateful for. If I was back in CT teaching I would not have been in Washington...I would not have seen Sarah...and to much time would have spanned between our seeing each other.

On the last day of my stay Doug and I spent the whole day checking out Seattle. We took an underground tour to learn some history of Seattle, ate some goodies in Pike's Place Market, rode to the top of the Space Needle, and enjoyed jamming out in the "Experimental Music Project" museum. We did it all in the best weather for experiencing Seattle....rain.

I left Marysville late that same night, heading north with a heavy heart and hope the wait isn't too long before I see Doug and Sarah again.

I had trouble at the border. Canada has no interest for unemployed bums entering their country and apparently they keep immaculate never disappearing records. Five years prior me and my college friends were denied access to Canada for having "insufficient funds". I laughed when I was told in this current drama we had only $35 between the three of us at the time. Canada had not forgotten and even though five years had passed they still assumed (correctly) that I was a poor bum and deserved interrogation before being allowed into their country. I went inside the border office and needed to explain what I was doing. My answers didn't help my cause...

"What do you do for work Matt?"

"I'm unemployed - I quit my job to travel."

"Who are you staying with in Canada?"

"My friend Celeste."

"Celeste who?

"Uhhhh...I don't know I just met her yesterday on a website called "Couch Surfing"."

"Couch what???"

After some explaining by me and lecturing by her I was granted access to British Columbia, Canada. She told me to plan for extra time next time I enter their country. Apparently since I was denied access in 2005 for not having enough money I will forever be assumed to be crossing the border with no money and made to go into the office to explain myself. That makes a whole lot of sense. At least when the third time comes around I'll know it's coming.

Celeste is an obsessive traveler like myself and I was fortunate to catch her while she's home working for a few months. She practically jumped out of her seat to plan a bike route for me through Vancouver. A bike route I'm currently on.

Canada was unplanned - I'm not sure what I'm doing up here....but for me - this is perfect.

-Celeste was my tour guide for two nights - I will need a lot more white space to detail my Vancouver stay - Until next blog....

Finding the Path

I got pulled over for the first time on any road trip I've ever taken. I was going 69 in a 65 (the police man told me so). No worries - after I was asked where I came from, where I was going, if I had any knifes, guns, narcotics, drugs, cocaine, heroin, small amounts of marijuana, large amounts of cash (I wish), opened alcohol containers, pets, diabetes, blisters on my feet, or #2 pencils I was let go with just a warning. I continued to drive toward Craters of the Moon National Park going the appropriate speed of 64 mph. Craters of the Moon was cool - but that was all. The sun was setting and I didn't have anybody to fight, curse, and contend with on the short seven mile loop road which cuts through the young lava flows of the park. I've realized that if I don't find myself a campsite prior to seven o'clock I turn lazy and stop looking for a place to camp and start looking for a motel. I've gotten lazy about my money the last couple weeks. I've been eating out too much. Staying in motels too many times. I don't mind it so much, but I'm going against the principles I've started out with on this trip. To go as cheap as humanely possible - without going insane or turning into a permanent bum. I need to work on that. The one correct thing I did in the last week was spend a night with my friend and her family in Caldwell, Idaho. Their place was gorgeous with beautiful views of the mountains to the south east. I was treated to a wonderful dinner and extremely enjoyable company. When I do eventually settle down I hope to emulate some of their practices of growing my own vegetables, canning and preserving them, and owning and caring for farm animals. The only key requirement that I'll have trouble with in that equation is the settling down. Where will this settling down take place? When will it happen? How will it happen? I don't know!

I left Idaho with a heavy heart and entered into Oregon through Hell's Canyon. I hoped to do a two or three night hike into the canyon, but as I said before I only did one correct thing this past week. I needed to go to the tiny town of Imnaha and after a four hour drive I discovered the south entrance road to the town was closed. A gate stretched across the road. Often times this means a simple short detour, but not when you're dealing with the largest river gorge in the United States. This road closure required me to detour three more hours around to the north. I finally made it to Imnaha and was heading down the access road to the trailhead around six at night (PST) when I had left that morning around nine (MST). I bumped and swerved around giant ruts and rocks and screeched to a halt on the tiny dirt road fit enough for only one car. The road ahead of me was no more. It was strewn with rocks and impassable. Awesome! I looked to my left and saw a friendly sign - "NO TRESPASSING. SURVIVORS WILL BE PROSECUTED". Now I'm just speculating, but I'm pretty sure this guy dynamited the road to keep visitors away. JUST A HUNCH! I took my car in reverse - I'd been defeated. Again - it was getting to be after seven. Lazy Matt emerged and I sulked with head down to find a motel. I love these small towns though. I stayed in Enterprise, Oregon for the night. The Wallowa Mountains are located to the south and the high peaks loom snow capped off in the distance. So Hell's Canyon was out - but these mountains....can I get up there?! The next day I set off to find out with no map (STUPID). I had a chance to look at a map and figured I couldn't mess up the nine mile one way hike to a mountain lake (Key word "figured"). After hiking for an hour though - each step knowing I was going in the wrong direction of my intended destination I again gave up defeated. I kept hoping the trail would turn the way it was supposed to go but it didn't and I turned back knowing I was in fact going the wrong way. I turned around and slumped back to my car - it was now too late in the afternoon to make the nine mile up hill hike to the camp I hoped to make. No motel this time though - I stayed at Wallowa's lake side campground. I'm in a Best Western outside Enterprise now - helping myself greedily to food and coffee and plan to retry my hike today. Hopefully my errors have passed and I'll be able to enjoy and tramp over the white capped mountains I saw from my car. Time will tell!

Destiny? Fate? Random?

I ate a HUGE prime rib sandwich and a pile of steak fries at a nice restaurant in McCall, Idaho the day I got out of the Seven Devils. As an appetizer I ate a half loaf of bread and salad. I could barely move afterward. I waddled out of the restaurant and into my car where I reclined feeling ready to regurgitate my meal at any moment. I wasn't yet ready to drive, but I pulled out regardless and headed south - my aim was to get somewhere close to Stanley, Idaho - but it was already 7:30 and Stanley was about four hours away. I was driving east toward Stanley about seven miles outside of Cascade (where my last blog was written) when the urge to turn around and go back overwhelmed me.

I'm back tracking from my last post because of that desire to turn around. Maybe it was the fact that I was exhausted and ready to puke that compelled me to turn around, maybe it was the fact that it was late and

I had no idea where the nearest campsite would be, maybe I was just too damn lazy to set up my tent and air mattress that night, but maybe it was something different.

I ended up spending three nights and four days in Cascade. The morning of my second day I learned that my good friend and mentor teacher back in Monroe owned property in Cascade. Crazy I somehow ended up here because the town only has 1000 year long residents. The Friday I last wrote on this Blog I was sitting in the library chatting with Tiffany (a girl with family in Cascade) when I learned of a fantastic opportunity. The American Legion in town was hosting a "Casino Night" and volunteers were needed to help deal cards and such. It took me all but two seconds to decide, "Im in!" It was an absolute blast. Friday night was the training session where veterans in their 60's - 80's decided the best way to deal Texas Hold 'Em and Black Jack - most not really knowing for sure the finer rules of the games required to deal. I stood back with Tiffany and her friend Josh making side ways glances and laughing about the absurdity of the

situation. I'm familiar with the games and offered up help as best I could despite trying to simply observe as an outsider. No one else really knew how to run the Roulette table - so I took the role and come Saturday night I spent the entire four hours spinning the ball and taking and rewarding chips. Another young lady from Las Vegas stayed at my table most of the night and we cracked jokes about the people present and the ridiculous prizes that could be won in the silent auction. Some of the best prizes were a clay bear playing a french horn, a red hat with the word "Native" on the brim and a bear stitched on the front, a full Nativity scene, and a ten year old stereo system. There where about 50 prizes in all. Most as awesome as the four previously mentioned. After "Casino Night" for the first time on the whole trip I enjoyed a saturday night out with friends on the town. Being that it was Labor Day weekend and a saturday night, Cascade was hopping. The people in Cascade where wonderful. I thought long about what compelled me to turn around as I left Cascade on Monday morning driving the same route I had been on Thursday. Whatever told me to turn around - I feel blessed I did.

I had made it only about five miles from Stanley when again the urge hit me to turn back and take one of the many campsites I had passed en route. I could have gone into town, checked it out, and taken any number of the many primitive campsites located on the outskirts of town. Again, this desire to turn back proved another monumental decision. At this tiny campsite off Rt. 21 I met Nora. As I stood staring at the self pay board she came out of her tent and explained to me she had already paid for all the sites and I was welcomed to stay for free. "Im in!" I set up and got in my tent. An hour or so later she was calling my name and offering me some of her chicken dinner and a drink. We chatted it up for an hour or so over dinner. She was an incredible woman who has traveled and worked all over the country. She currently lives in Jackson Hole and works closely with Grand Teton National Park - my favorite national park! I hope she doesn't mind me saying but it's important to note to understand her character and the type of woman she is - but she's survived both a double mastectomy and oophorectomy to thwart off cancer in both breasts and ovaries. When she heard the news of her cancer she simply took it in stride. "There's nothing I could do about, " she said smiling and she's now cancer free and recovered from both surgeries in record time. There's no doubt her positive attitude aided in her recovery. The brain is powerful medicine.

That night the temperature dipped into the low twenties (unknowingly to me, Stanley, Idaho has the lowest average temperature in the country over 300 days of the year) and me and my 45 degree summer bag were freezing! I stayed huddled in my bag until nine in the morning hoping the sun would filter through the trees and warm me. I probably would have stayed straight through the afternoon but Nora came calling. "Matt....can I tempt you with eggs, potatoes, and coffee???" "UHHHHH.....yes you most certainly can!" She barely even knew me but was so generous. I offered to give her something for all she had given me and her only request was to "Pay it Forward". She hoped for me to do something equally as generous for someone else. I'll do my best to heed her request. We talked long again. Nora offered up websites to check out in order to find cool jobs in and out of the country and shared more stories. I found out she knew Bill Bryson personally (one of my favorite authors). "A Walk in the Woods" is my favorite of book Bryson's where he tried to hike the Appalachian trail in full with his friend. The friend Bryson took with him on the trail was Nora's ex-husband. How random is that? Nora was incredible. Again...I cannot help but think what told me to turn back and chose the campsite I did. Fate? Destiny? Or just plain random luck? I don't know yet, but I've been so lucky over the past week to have made the right decisions and to have met incredible people and acquire new friendships.

I'm now in Stanley. A town so small and out there I could blink and be back 50 years and not know the difference. It's unbelievable here. Mountains (Sawtooths) so crisp and sharp and so close. Hot springs all around. The simple, slow, quiet pace of the people around me is addicting and contagious. Idaho has been incredible and still so much more to see!

Idaho is my favorite

So much happens when your on the road. A day is equivalent to a week. It's only been a week since I last wrote on here and yet it feels like I've experienced a month. The funny thing is I look back and feel like it's all going by so fast. Today is September 3rd, 2010. Its 11:18 am MST. I've been on the road for 47 days 2 hours and 38 minutes. Is that a long time? Not really. It depends. I would have started teaching on Monday. I have weird thoughts that I am teaching science in Monroe right now in room 305. That I'm teaching there and I'm also sitting here in Cascade, Idaho. There are two of me. Both doing what their supposed to be doing. Which Matt is the right Matt? Well. Easy answer. The one sitting in Cascade. I was hiking switch backs in the Seven Devils Mountains only a couple hours from here when these thoughts where entering my head. I was hiking the opposite direction from my intended destination on a long switch back. This is what I'm doing on my trip. Sometimes you need to go in the wrong direction to be heading the right way. This trip is everything I knew it would be. It's everyday new. It's everyday discovery. It slows down time and makes my days weeks and my weeks months. It's exploration. It's success and failure. It's laughing and wooo hooooing and then screaming and cursing. It's focusing on the only things that matter to me right now. It's focusing on what's around me. It's trying to learn. It's pure travel for the sake of travel. There is no destination. There can't be a destination. It's about not having a damn clue what the hell I'm doing or where the hell I'm heading and knowing that's the point. It's about the desperate desire to know what I don't know I don't know. And it's fucking amazing.

I spent some days in Glacier National Park in northern Montana. It is as good as a park gets – other than the fact that the rest of the natural loving world feel the same way – the place was mobbed. It was unfortunate my visit happened to fall on the final weekend of August. It was still beautiful. I heard elk bugle and witnessed doe and fawn only a meter away from my out stretched hand – nibbling blades of grass I had recently peed on for the salt content. I drove hours over some of the most incredible roads. I went from Glacier straight to the tip of Idaho's pan handle and began to ride down its spine. Spent a Saturday night out on the town in St. Maries (population 2,652), Idaho. Woke up with the arduous task of blinking my eyes and continued my southward journey. Outside Riggins, Idaho (population 410) lays the mountainous part of the Hell's Canyon Recreation center. Hell's Canyon is the deepest river gorge in North America. Deeper in fact than the Grand Canyon. The canyon drops nearly 8000' at its deepest point. I'll be hiking actually in the canyon when I leave Idaho and come in on the Oregon Side of the Snake River. It was Monday, August 30th. As a rounded an 8000' foot crest in the hills it began to snow.....hard. It would have been my first day teaching and I was standing in the middle of the Idaho wilderness in a snow storm. This was not dangerous snow. It was still August and it melted shortly after hitting the ground, but it was still Snow in August. Unreal. The next evening it started raining at 8:00 pm and didn't stop until 5:00 pm the next day. The temperature stayed constant. 42o F. I had planned for cold and was completely comfortable in my down jacket, long underwear, fleece hat, and snuggled in a down sleeping bag. It was a welcomed delay. On my last day I reached the summit of 9400' She Devil Mountain then bushwhacked (hiking off the trail) for several miles over downed trees and dense thicket. After the tenth slip and near major accident I began to laugh – the laugh turned quickly into an echoing scream. If you ever just want to be completely miserable hike into a recovering burned forest choked with downed trees strewn like Pick of Stix and thriving with small brush. Start down a slope of 30 degrees and see how long it takes you to scream...or cry. I was headed toward the trail but was unsure of when I would reach it. I couldn't miss it. The trail led perpendicular from my current direction. When I stumbled onto it unexpectedly I let out another scream, but this one was from joy. I've been thriving off these roller coaster emotions. The downs only make the ups so much better. I miss my family and friends. I do miss teaching and my friends at Jockey Hollow, but if I had stayed teaching this year I might have been heading in the “right direction” but I would have been going the wrong way. The correct choice was made. I'm where I'm supposed to be.

FYI

1. My car never had a name. It needed one. I named it “Last Chance”.

2. Horses don't squat or lift a leg to pee – they simple spread their back legs an extra foot apart and let rip a torrential fire hose of a spray.