How You Move #2

Exercpt from the Adventurolog dated 4/21/09:

“Wake Up! Get up! Get out! You are no longer needed; you are done here. It’s time for you to leave. If you were smart you would have left a long time ago but you grew slothful in your ways and chose to maintain this dream as it was. Only a fool would be so simple to believe that you could tame this power and continue it for as long as you chose, the weak reap no rewards. Now go and never return. “

“Please let me continue to dream, that’s all I ask of this life. Am I so wrong to ask something so small?”

With an icy grip squeezing on my neck “ If all you want to do is dream then I will make it easy for you” tightening the grasp “and believe me it will be easy. Is this what you really want for yourself? This cold existence is burning you from the inside out. You must escape with what little you have left; it’s for your own good. “

“I hear you, I do.”

I awaken on the hardwood floor of my empty room. There’s nothing left but a sleeping bag. So much open air. So much open air, frigid and revealing, that I began to drown. Wounds open so much easier in the cold.

I am a gaping sore, wind burnt and resilient.

I take a deep breath as I quietly pull the door shut for the last time, locking it with grace. At least I can leave I tell myself, thinking of my roommate inside with all that air. I was never sure how he dealt but our bruises are different and he has to figure that out himself.

I assimilate into the flow of work traffic. I fit in now where I never belonged. I always wondered who these people were and where they were going. So many nights walking past their homes peering into the windows, looking for coal to keep the machine running. There were never answers only more questions. Without anyone noticing I slip into the fog accelerating toward I-80 eastbound…. 35th St…. 50th St…. 82nd Ave…. 122nd Ave…. 160th Ave…. finally ducking into the mountain mist.

Farewell friends, I’ve left a note on the counter. Ill call you when I’m on the other side.

Luckily for me I was able to visit Asheville, North Carolina twice this year. Once during the heat of the summer and again after a beautiful snowfall. It was my first time in Asheville that I wondered who Thomas Wolfe was, I had heard of him before but really didn’t know much about him. Subsequently, I recieved a package not long after returning home that contained:

How You Move #1

Excerpt from the Adventurolog dated 9/24/09:

“So my car died today, it hasn’t been that long of a struggle but today was a turning point.  I knew it was coming. I mean how could I have driven all that I have driven and next expect this to happen. I’m going to have to sacrifice my mobility for many reasons but the silencing of this engine means more than just that.

I popped the hood for my Mom’s husband so he could take a look.

“Crank her up, I wanna see what it does,” he said rummaging through the engine looking for something that may have loosened up.  It was just 5 days prior that I had gotten it back from him, in a sad way he felt like I thought he was responsible. That would have been a false assumption.

I turn the key and it chugs but it never connects. He calls out a few different possibilities. I agree and shake my head when I think it’s appropriate, I don’t know anything about this matter, nothing. Apparently he does and that’s why I trust him. We all notice the obvious leaking of oil from the engine. It was thick; I hadn’t seen it earlier when I initially inspected the car.

“ See this right here” he points to the oil “ this tells me its internal, I don’t wanna tell you it’s the timing belt because I really don’t know.”

“ Yea I understand your logic, so what do you think my next step should be?” I wonder as I think of running away in a hot air balloon. How am I going to get through this?  “I think you need to take it and get a diagnostics check run but I figure a mechanic would just tell you your engines blown” he replied. Engine blown?

“Well you know man, this thing does have a lot of miles on it”.

“I’ve put most of those miles on it myself” I interrupted him. I know there are miles on this car; I had been there for almost half. I had driven across this country and back a few times.  

“My biggest thing would have been sitting out on the side of the interstate when this thing broke down” he said. I laughed “Well you have to understand at this point these type of situations happen so regularly it would be strange if nothing happened”. There was small silence. “That’s rough” he finished the conversation.

 So the oil drip was the last sputter of this silver space pod. The most eerie thing about it all was that the stereo faceplate was lit the whole time, even when I took the keys out of the ignition. I walked out to my car later that night and the faceplate was still burning bright.

All the trips I’d taken and all the escapes I made seemed to steam off the engine as if it was cleansing the filth from its pores.”

So I have a friend training to become a kiteboarding instructor and he asked me if I wanted to come try it out. I said sure, sounded like it could be fun granted we would just be covering the basics. We took the training kite out to the local soccer fields, unfortunately not much wind but it was fine because I was just learning the controls. Despite my person not flying off the ground or doing much other than flying a huge kite I really enjoyed it. It’s awesome to get the kite high in the air, steering it back and forth, feeling like your arm wrestling the wind. The most intriguing part for me was the idea of harnessing gusts in a call and response manner, you could really feel the power. You get a understanding of how strong the wind is. I could only think of how much humans take for granted here on Earth, those who stop to smell the flowers are few and far between.  

This was what I was kind of expecting

Here are some bad pictures of what actually happened

 

Nuclear Waste Part 1

Excerpt from the Adventurolog dated 8/22/09:

“I have recorded these images because someone appears to be digging through my trash. I am not sure what they are after or why but they have absconded with almost an entire trashbags worth of items. Look at the completely deflated bag in the 2nd picture. The other bags have their own rips and tears as well. The thief has also taken into their possession four pizza boxes of varying sizes and toppings. I will have to wait until the next trash day to find out more information”

A Sigh of Relief

This is another fun and exciting site that I’ve been browsing for a few weeks now. I find it refreshing to know that people are out there chronicling this type of data. Its interesting to look and admire someones “art” that you might not have otherwise given a second look. Its all too common in our culture to overlook things that we take for granted, but if we stop and take our time we can take in all the magnificent craftsmanship in our surroundings.

Angels Rest

I took the time a couple weeks ago to explore and hike a short trail to Angels Rest. Angels Rest is a short hike in the Columbia River Gorge. Though being a short walk (2.4), it is primarily uphill the entire way. It was really exciting because it had been seriously foggy day while driving up the the trailhead, I almost had to pull over because I couldn’t see five feet in front of me. Once I climbed up high enough on the trail it appeared as though I has ascended above the cloud line. It was a great hike, one of the better ones that I’ve been on in Oregon. Hopefully I can get back soon.

These are a few pictures I took with my cell phone, so please excuse the quality.

End of an Era

So I finally beat Mother 3. It really didn’t take that long once I got rolling. It was a pretty good game but I think it could have been better. I felt as though the whole time I was waiting for the game to start. I know filling in the shoes of Earthbound is a big deal and that I will myself never find an equal to that game. I guess I’m just a little upset that the saga is officially over.

I dream of Airstreams

You can call me boring or easily stimulated but I find these sites pretty interesting and fun to look at. Malls and motels of the great American yesteryear leave much to the imagination. Sometimes I can just smell the heat and and feel the dust of these places. I guess that would make me the 23 year old equivalent of your grandparents driving around the country in an RV getting off at every exit to browse handmade baskets and kitchen aprons. Unfortunately due to generational differences I do my gallivanting from behind a computer screen instead of real world application. Sigh.

From the Sands of Time Emerge

I’m so excited that I was finally able to torrent Sunny Day Real Estate’s Diary. This was one of my favorite albums when I was a sophomore in high school. I bought it at a second-hand music store for about five bucks and it turned out to be a real sleeper. Diary really fits the mood these days.