– David

Rainbow Over Placerville

Most  North Americans know that the best place to find the deep reds, brilliant oranges, and sunny yellows of fall foliage is on the east coast of the US and Canada.  These folks are right.  This is true, but what many don’t know is that the leaves of deciduous trees on the west coast of the US change as well.  Striking swaths of blazing color can be found all along the Sierra Nevada in California, and of course the best way to see this is by hopping on the back of a bicycle.

I had a chance to do just this the other day as I headed up to my old haunts of Placerville and Pollock Pines in the Gold Country region of California.  This area had been my home for many years before I left to teach overseas.  The country, the air, the water and the people had insinuated themselves deep down into my being, and I made it a point to visit this place whenever I was back in the US.  But this was the first time I had been able to spend a fall day in the area since I departed eight years ago.  I had decided to do a short ride from Placerville at the base of the Sierra Nevadas up to see my friends Dave and Susan in Pollock Pines – perhaps only about 30 miles roundtrip, but through Apple Hill and Camino, some of the most beautiful fall landscape I had ever seen.

The day was slightly overcast and I started up the paved El Dorado trail from Placerville at about noon. It was a perfect day for riding, just cool enough to give you a chill when sitting still while keeping you at a perfect temperature while in the saddle.  I hadn’t been on this trail for a while and was pleasantly surprised to note that it had been extended.  The paved section now ended several miles past the freeway above Placerville, and according to the trail side map, a dirt section extended even further to the edge of the quiet area known as Apple Hill, filled with orchards, Christmas tree farms, pumpkins, and vineyards.  I knew traffic would be heavy on this Sunday, but figured riding the trail to its end would help alleviate this a bit.

The trail was a joy, an easy grade that let me stay in my big ring most of the time.  When I hit dirt, I dropped to the middle ring and enjoyed the feel of recently rained-upon red earth underneath the tires of my Salsa Fargo.  The path continued on this way for many miles until the dirt trail came to an abrupt stop at a chain link fence.  Beyond the fence was a strip of  four lane Highway 50 with the tantalizing vision of Apple Hill just on the other side.  I did what I had to and threw my bike and myself over the fence and made a dash across the freeway, much to the chagrin of the highway workers on the median.

The rest of the ride meandered through the back roads of Apple Hill, Camino and Pollock Pines.  I was right about the traffic, but there were so many cars that none of them could move very quickly.  My legs felt good, and I breathed in the crisp, clean air and gazed out at the trees and their colors.  Oaks,maples, aspens and dogwoods popped up in groves along the roads and in betwixt the vineyards and orchards.  Fruit trees were dropping their seed and their leaves as well.  The predominant color was yellow, no brilliant oranges around here, but an occasional red blaze might show itself as well as the white flowering dogwood.  It felt good to be out here, right in a way, and I was reminded of how much I enjoyed this time of year back in my old stomping grounds.

I reached Pollock Pines after a couple of hours and had a sweet visit with Dave and Susan, catching up on events of the past year and oohing and aahing at their new additions to their home and the music studio they had built downstairs.  Then I slipped into a coat and zoomed back down the hill for an hour of swooping curves and cool fall breezes.  As I reached Placerville, it began to drizzle, and a brilliant rainbow appeared over the town. As I watched it appear, I realized that I really couldn’t ask for more.

Lyle Lovett, Emmylou Harris, John Prine, Ricky Skaggs, Doc Watson, Earl Scruggs, Ralph Stanley, Little Feat, Aimee Mann, Galactic, Del McCoury and many others — all for about 100,000 fans (my estimate) in beautiful Golden Gate Park.  It was a music lover’s dream!

Now for those who don’t know, Doc Watson and Earl Scruggs basically invented bluegrass guitar and banjo respectively.  They are both in their 80′s but still going strong.  They had to sit down for their shows but that didn’t make any difference (Doc is blind so would have been sitting anyway.)  Del Mcoury is probably one of the most active of the older bluegrass generation and still sounds just as good as he did when he started his career 50 years ago (He did the soundtrack for ‘Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?).  Aimee Mann is one of my favorite balladeers and Little Feat, although they did a bit too much one chord jamming, played all of their hits and were pretty damn funky!

The musical highlite, however, had to be Lyle Lovett and his Large Band.  I’ve been wanting to see him for years and it was a real treat.  His band, is indeed, large and includes four amazing sounding gospel singers from LA that almost stole the show. He played a lot of my favorite tunes plus a couple of new ones and closed with the rousing ‘Church.’  His band was spot on and all of them were top notch players.  What struck me most, however, was how much fun they were having.  Obviously, Lyle is strong band leader.  Everyone seemed relaxed and in the groove.  Of course, Lovett’s voice was amazing and his stories were quirky and one of a kind.

My friends and I had set up on a small hill over the stage-right side of the stage.  For sure the best vantage point for the show.  The moment of serendipity?  The couple sitting next to us were my employers from a rafting company, Adrift Adventures, that I worked for in Jensen, Utah in 1994!  I hadn’t seen them since that season.  It was great to catch up on old times and find out how they and some of the other guides were doing.  Not only was this unusual, but a new friend I was with also happened to take a trip down the Yampa River with them just a few years back.  Pat and Robin are wonderful folks and were thrilled to hear that yet another one of their old guides was up to interesting and original things in life.  I feel very lucky to have been able to work with them.

So that’s about it.  I’m in Ft Worth, Texas right now visiting my aunt.  A big difference from San Francsico!

No photos on this one.  Take care, folks!

On Top of Mt. Whitney

Every bit of blog advice I’ve read says that the number one thing to do to keep people reading your blog is to ‘update regularly.’ Hmmm . . . I seem to be failing on that point since I think it’s been at least a month-and-a-half since I did any sort of ‘regular’ updating. I’m assuming that by ‘regular’ these blog advice people mean ‘once a week’ or ‘twice a month,’ not just when you’re feeling regular.

Anyway, it’s been a few days since I finished a 16 day solo backpacking trip through the High Sierra Nevada on what is known as the John Muir Trail. Now John Muir, as some of you may know, really founded the nature conservation movement in the US and, in effect, the world, in the late 1800′s. He was a great man. A poet, naturalist, philosopher, and preacher of sorts whose church was the giant sequioa trees and glaciated canyons of Yosemite National Park. (For more information on US national parks, see Ken Burn’s newest documentary, “The National Parks – America’s Best Idea” on PBS. As most of you know, I’m not a rah rah patriot, but it is kind of neat to know that the whole idea of ‘national parks’ was invented in the States.)

The trail stretches from the floor of Yosemite Valley southwards down the spine of the Sierra Nevada and for 211 mils and ends at the top of Mt. Whitney, the tallent mountain in the lower 48 states at over 14,000 feet high.  It was constructed in the early 20th century and is part of the Pacific Crest Trail which stretches all the way from Mexico to Canada.  John Muir actually had very little to do with it, but like many natural wonders in the state of Californina, where the Scotsman spent most of his life, it is named after him.  I had orignally planned to start at the trailhead in the valley, but due to a fire on the outskirts of the park, I was forced to begin in Tuolumne Meadows at 9,000 feet and about 30 miles after the starting trailhead.

It might go without saying that the trip was amazing.  The northern half of the walk was filled with glaciated canyons, pine and juniper forests, and high mountain lakes held some of the clearest waters I have ever seen.  I had gone out on the trail not expecting to walk the its entirety.  I had merely wanted to spend some time in the mountains, breathe some fresh air and do some navel gazing.  I had a lot to think about that I won’t go into here, and I really felt like a needed a massive dose of good old California nature after being in Vietnam for five years.  I got all of that, and more.

I really dilly dallied for the first ten days.  I hiked a lot of short days, 4-10 miles, and spent quite a bit of time sitting and watching the glorious sunsets and wildlife that I ran into — coyotes, birds and hawks galore, marmots, squirrels, fish, but no bear, not a single sign of a bear actually.  You are required to bring a bear canister for your food on this trail because they are so ubiquitous, and many of the rangers I talked to said they were all over the place, but I never saw one — dang!

The highlight of these first ten days must have been the Darwin Bench.  It was a four mile hike off of the JMT towards to north.  A huge swath of glaciated hanging valley above Evolution Valley.  I spent about 48 hours up there an saw no one but a lone coyote at 12,000 feet.  It was so quiet up there — not a sound, and the sense of solitude was almost overwhelming.  Its really impossible to describe what its like to be in an environment like this but perhaps John Muir said it best, “Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.”  That’s kind of how I felt after leaving the Darwin Bench.

Loneliness was the most difficult part of the trip (no serious physical problems aside from a few blisters and weight loss).  And I found that I could do only so much navel gazing and wondering at the beauty of nature before I began to feel a bit restless.  After the Darwin Bench I continued southward toward Bishop Pass where I had originally planned on exiting.  However, it was only September 17th, and I had until the 22nd to get out.  After meeting a  petite, friendly woman from San Francisco who was also doing the JMT solo (and finishing), I decided that it was time to stop navel gazing and time for some action.  I did some quick calculations that evening and figured that I had 87 miles to go until Mt. Whitney and that if I hiked an average of over 17 miles a day over five very high passes, I could finish by the 22nd.  I had just enough food, and perhaps not enough stove fuel, but it could be done, so I decided to give it a shot.

Over the next five days I hiked between 15 and 20 miles a day and carefully rationed my food in order to finish the entire trail.  The passes I went over were as high at 13,000 feet and very very long.  The most difficult was undoubtedly Mather Pass, the last bit of trail constructed, blasted out of a sheer granite wall almost straight up.  The pass that followed was Glen Pass above the pristine Rae Lakes.  It was at this time that I realized that I would most likely not have enough fuel to make it, but at the top of Glen Pass I found my angels — Patrick and Daria from Portland and Santa Cruz.  I steeled myself to explain to them that I need fuel, and Patrick reached into his pack and pulled out a full can.  “Go to Whitney,” he said.  I send my thanks to those two for helping me make this trip possible!

Over the next few days I hiked day and night.  My feet were always extremely sore at the end of the day, and I started to lose weight rapidly, but it felt good to be pushing myself.  The terrain changed dramatically after Mather Pass and I was surrounded by very steep and jagged metamorphic peaks that hadn’t been touched by glaciers.  The basins were less vegetated and stark — beauty on a different scale.  After five days, on September 22nd, I made it to the top of Mt. Whitney and then hiked out to the town of Lone Pine.  I promptly consumed two hamburgers and a small pizza and slept in a soft bed for the first time in over two weeks.  Oh yeah, I took a shower as well.

My guide book for this trip was the magnificent “John Muir Trail” by Elizabeth Wenk, and I highly recomment it.  It was filled with information both logistical and natural and made the trip so much more interesting.  If you’re planning on doing this trail, get this book.

More photos of this hike can be found here.

Lone Pine to Lincoln
Find more Bike Rides in Hwy 395, California

Ben Lewis and I  met five years ago when I first moved to Hanoi.  We both taught at the same school.  Ben taught math and I taught music, but that didn’t stop us from tentatively exploring the possibilities of a friendship.  Ben  knew a woman whom I had just chanced to meet during a bicycle tour through Nova Scotia.  I had only chatted with her for a few minutes somewhere on a back road during the previous summer, but she had remembered my name and mentioned it to Ben.  So Ben had already heard of me before I ever arrived in Hanoi. Ben thought perhaps this was fate and wasted no time in taking advantage of our future friendship by proclaiming that he knew we were going to be best buds and asking to borrow 200.00 to pay for motorcycle repairs.  I loaned it to him.  I knew where he worked.

As fate would have it, we did become fast friends and when his wife, Miwa, returned to Hanoi after a successful treatment for cancer in the U.S., I became a friend of the family.  They moved away to Tokyo three years later and I missed them greatly, but Ben and I decided to stay close.  We made the choice to go out of our way each summer to spend a bit of time together.  How?  By backpacking for days together in the wilderness.

Our last trip, just completed, was half way around beautiful Mt. Ranier in the state of Washington.  We hiked a section of what is called the ‘Wonderland Trail‘ with a detour on the ‘Northern Loop,’ one of the wildest and most pristine sections of this national park.  We then rejoined the Wonderland trail on the east side of the park and ended our sixth day at the Sunrise Visitor Center where Ben’s lovely wife, Miwa picked us up.

Every multi-day backpacking trip has it’s own feel and vibe to it and this one was no exception.  If the whole trip could be summed up in a just a smattering of simple words they would be:

• Flowers
• Perfect weather
• Snow on the passes
• More flowers
• Steep up
• Steep down
• Long days
• Deep Sleeps
• Achy knees (have to figure our a way to fix that)
• Ridiculous jokes
• Barely enough food (on my part, not on Ben’s — he’s much more organized then me.
• Shakedown cruise for the John Muir Trail in the fall
• The best campsite ever at the top of Windy Gap
• Sublime

I suppose I could give a day by day description of mileage, elevation change, camps, etc but really that can be so boring. Let’s just say it was  great trip and the best way to get a feel for it (besides doing it yourself) would be to check out photos here.  Not much else to be said after looking at these I think.

Take care everyone!  I miss all of you that are not close by right now.

– David

If you look up ‘serendipity’ on everyone’s favorite  website, Wikipedia, it is defined as, “the effect by which one accidentally discovers something fortunate, especially while looking for something else entirely unrelated.”  Most of us have, hopefully experienced this at least once.  Fortunately for our good old human race, some folks know how to take a advantage of a serendipitous moment when it occurs.  Take Alexander Fleming for instance, who failed to clean up his petri dishes before leaving on holiday only to arrive back home to find them hopelessly contaminated with penicillin.  Billions of bacteria have been quaking in fear ever since.

Or Albert Hoffman, who spilled just a bit of lysergic acid diethylamide on his trousers before hopping on his bike to head home after a long day in lab.  That bike ride turned into the trip of a lifetime as he had the world’s first known LSD experience.  Interesting that this should happen on a bicycle.

Or Viagra, a drug that was developed for use in hypertension and angina.  When all the researchers starting pitching tents, the pharmaceutical companies knew they were onto a big thing (so to speak).

What is so striking about these and all the other momentous serendipitous events that have helped to shape our lives is that they were only valuable because the person to whom they occurred recognized them as valuable and knew what steps to take next.  If Fleming hadn’t taken a second look at his petri dishes and simply thrown them in the dishwasher and started over, there would be a lot of unhappy kids with ear infections running around.  Likewise, if his gardener, with no background in biology, had stumbled upon the dead bacteria he would have had no idea what to do with them.

This is why many folks  say that serendipity is not just the occurrence of the event  itself, but the event occurring in the vicinity of someone with an open and prepared mind.

Serendipitous events probably happen all the time.  However, most of us probably don’t know that they’re happening.  We’re missing out on something and don’t even know it!  Often, this is because we aren’t prepared.  If someone is selling Gibson ES 335 guitar at their garage sale for 200.00 and I happen to see it while I am actually looking for a cheap screwdriver I’ll buy the guitar immediately. Why?  Because I know it’s worth 100 times that much.  My interest in the instrument has prepared me for this moment.  If a set of knives were being sold at a similar fraction of their value I wouldn’t know what to do.  I would not even recognize this as a serendipitous event. I’m a lousy cook and haven’t spent any time studying matters culinary.  I don’t have a prepared mind when it comes to the kitchen.

I am guessing, however, that the primary reason we often miss out on serendipitous events is that we don’t have an open mind.  We are too busy running around trying to get from point A to point B, struggling to absorb all the information coming at us from our TV’s and computer screens, and dealing with all the vagaries of everyday life.  There’s nothing wrong with this, of course.  We have to exist and function in our society or we will perish, but I’ve noticed a distinct increase in the number of serendipitous events that have been popping up in my life since starting this ‘Year On.’

• A friend of a friend lives in Ghana and is married to a ghanian musician.  And they have an extra bed!
• Another friend’s father has a condo in Colorado where I can stay for free to finish my thesis (yes, it’s pretty much done.  It’s not great, but a few more hours should be all it needs)
• A fox appears in front of me on a hiking trail.  I am nowhere near where I planned to be and am actually a bit lost.  But I’ve got my camera.
• I am offered a free RT ticket if I accept a bump on a flight to Seattle.
• I balk at the 50.00 fee to hang out in the business lounge for 6 hours while I am waiting for the bump flight, but the woman behind me insists that I go in for free as her guest.

Now, as many of my teaching friends are preparing to head back into the academic year after summer vacations (I am trying really hard not to rub this in.  I’ll be thinking of you all as I’m hiking the John Muir Trail in September!) I am starting to wonder if these moments of sublime serendipity are occuring just by accident or because I have chosen to step back a little and be open to whatever comes along — no fixed agenda, no expectations.  I suspect that its the latter and if so, I relish it!  I also realize that I am very very fortunate to be able to take some time to do this and indeed, am truly blessed to be taking a deep, year-long breath.  There are plenty of us out there that are prepared for serendipity, but very few of us (especially those of us who have lived close to half of our life already) who are not able to be open to it.  Almost all of my teaching colleagues have expressed how much they would love to be able to take some time out to refresh and recharge, to find some serendipity.  I know how lucky I am to be able to do that.

So while sitting here in the (free) airport lounge with my new RT ticket in hand, I make this blog entry.  CNN with Wolf Blitzer is on in the background (when will this dude ever make up his mind about that fucking beard? He should either grow it or shave it off.  He looks like he covered his face in super glue and then rubbed his cheeks all over the lint collector in his clothes dryer.  But more on ridiculous US news and media insanity later).  It’s off to Seattle now and a hike around Mt. Ranier with my good friend, Ben.   It’s bear country up there. The way things are going, I’ll probably run into two of them and one will offer take photos.

Go here for more photos related to this post.

Boulder!  Wow wow wow!  I’ve heard so much about this town – great outdoor activities, an active music scene (String Cheese Incident was based in nearby Nederland I believe), plenty of free thinkers, and now Max Wolfe’s Bar Mizvah.

I arrived at the Denver airport on July 9th and took a quick shuttle ride to the home of Julia Grice.  She has a townhome on the west side of this city of 100,000  and was gracious enough to be my first host through www.couchsurfing.com.  When I found out I would be traveling to Boulder, I flipped through the 300 plus couchsurfing hosts in the area and made a request to stay at about 15 homes.  My only requirement?  I wanted to stay with someone over the age of 30.  I know, I know – ageism!  How could I discriminate against anyone simply because they were more than 10 years younger than me?  Easy – I was that age once, and if I had been hosting folks it would have been one loooong party.  That didn’t sound so hot to me.  Anyway, Julia was a blast.  She gave me a rundown of the bike paths in town, helped me rent a bicycle, and even let me borrow her car (Car loans are not a common couch surfing experience – don’t expect this if you try it!).  Julia also respected my independence and didn’t try and take care of me too much.  I’m looking forward to using the service some more and hosting folks once I finish my travels.

Boulder had everything for me that was missing in Hanoi.

•    Clean, blue air
•    Green fields and flowers
•    Bike paths and signed bike routes to just about everyplace in town
•    Streets filled with folks running, biking, rollerblading, walking dogs and (gasp) smiling and saying hello!
•    Beautiful mountain backdrops including the Flat Irons (close climbing)
•    Great music coming through regularly at the Boulder Theatre
•    Street musicians
•    Yummy food

Basically I was in heaven.  The only drawback – it’s got to be just about the whitest place I have ever been.  Nope – not a whole lot of diversity here.  Plenty of 30 and 40 something nice middle class folks, but not a whole lot else. I’ve heard that there are actually a whole bunch of Mexicans around, but I sure didn’t see much evidence of their culture.  Maybe this will change in the next few years.  Funny, but before I left the States I never even would have noticed this, but now it really bothered me.

However, lack of soul power aside, this is the kind of place where I’d like to buy a home.  I’m looking into it; so don’t be surprised if I’m inviting a whole bunch of you to Boulder, CO sometime in the next year!  It would be a good place to buy and rent as it’s a college town and I’m guessing there are always renters available.   Compared to California, prices actually look fair and reasonable.  I’ll keep all ya’ll posted.

The Bar Mitzvah was wonderful.  Hosted by the ‘Adventure Rabbi’ who specializes in bringing Jewish spirituality back to nature.  I’d never been to one of these before, so I’ve nothing to compare it too.  It was definitely not traditional – very laid back and many of us were in shorts and T-shirts.  All the men received Keepas (sp?) also know as ‘Yamikas’ in Yiddish, that were made out of ‘broken twilled’ denim from the jeans factory of one of Max’s cousins.  (He’s the brains behind ‘Naked and Famous Jeans.’   Apparently, if I were rich and hip I’d be wearing these).

Max’s family was very welcoming and friendly.  They insisted that Mitch and I play ‘Sweet Anne Marie’ after the service and didn’t even shudder during the third verse (‘When I see the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost / I’ll thank them for watching o’er me.)  I thought that was pretty accepting.

We took a class 2 rafting trip on Sunday following the service, and although it was VERY weird being in the front of the boat instead of driving from the back, and not exactly a thrill, it was such a damn pleasure to be back on a western river!  The water was freezing (in a good way).  Most of the trip was along the road unfortunately, but I got just a taste of the legendary whitewater that can be found all over the state.  Once again, CO is calling my name.

So today it’s off the Brenda’s father’s condo in Silverthorne.  I’ll be holing up here to do nothing but finish my thesis.  Of course, I’ll need to take regular hikes in the mountains up here in order to clear my head.  Oh the sacrifices we make in the name of academia!  I shall emerge from this cozy little cocoon as a MA in International Education and a fulfilled student of higher learning.  Don’t worry, this won’t change me at all and the exorbitant amount of extra pay I will receive as a teacher with an MA will go to nothing more than purchasing a pair of ‘Naked and Famous Jeans.’

Maybe two pairs.

Go here for more photos of Boulder and Max’s Bar Mitzvah

I’ve probably attended this festival about ten times since I was in my mid-twenties, and I just seem to enjoy it more and more each year. I must admit, the first HSMF I attended after spending my first year overseas in Vientiane was much too overwhelming. I had never experienced the phenomenon known as reverse culture shock, and setting myself down with 7,000 crazed hippies, Burning Man aficionados and the like for four days of pretty much non-stop music and partying was much more than my poor jet-lagged self could handle. The clash between the extremely modest and demure Lao culture and the aggressive, somewhat narcissistic and usually inebriated culture of the festival created just about as much dissonance as a Schoenberg 12-tone composition and was just as grating. However, as I’ve grown more accustomed to jumping between the culture of Southeast Asia and California, the transition has eased up quite a bit and I’m able to appreciate (and participate in) the nuttiness of these fine festival goers without the sense of disconnect and isolation that can occur when moving into a new culture.

As I’ve gotten older I’ve spent less time running around like a . . . well like a crazed partier and more and more time actually listening to entire sets. The musical diversity and quality of players is outstanding (HSMF has a strong reputation amongst both musicians and fans). Of course, it’s a scene as well. Everywhere you look there are beautiful freaks in various states of dress and undress. There’s Gingalicious, also known as Ginger and Nola Areola, who makes it a point to drop as much of her butt as possible out of her very short short shorts. There’s the stiltwalkers, hula hoopers, flowerstick players, jugglers, fire-eaters, trippers, stoners, skippers and lovers. And there’s our group of the ‘Bees.’ We will spend a couple of nights at each festival running around in our bee costumes finding folks who look like they need ‘pollinating’ and surrounding them in a crowd of love and buzzes. The Bees have grown to about 30 folks now and crowds are starting to look for and expect us. Thanks to my good friend, Chris Thomas, for getting this idea going and keeping it alive and thriving for the past several years. Its great being a bee – everybody loves us!

Musical highlights? • The Pimps of Joytime – with a name like that you have to be good) • Mike Farris and the Roseland Rhythm Review – an amazing vocalist • John Butler – not a big fan of his recorded stuff but wow, what a guitarist! • Pretty Lights – electronica and old school soul, how could you lose • Izabella – I opened up for these guys about three years ago. They were good then, but are much better now. Rock jamming at its finest.

This year I made it a point to get out of the festival site each day on Cielo and take a spin, usually about 12 miles or so down to a secret swimming hole we found on the river a few years back. The pleasure of cycling down a quiet country road in the evening sun, with horse pastures and hay bales in front and blue sky above, cannot be adequately described – especially after riding for so many year in the crappy conditions of Hanoi. I laughed out loud as I rounded the last turn back to the festival site on Friday night and saw the sun gleaming out over the valley. Next year, I think I just might ride to and from this event. Now it’s time for a bit of rest before heading out to Colorado. Photos of all the beautiful people will be up shortly!

More photos here.