My old passport
During my last few trips abroad, they almost didn’t let me board the plane. Not because I’m particularly threatening or something was wrong with my ticket, but because my passport looks like it has gone through the washer, been peed on by a dog, and left out in the rain. It is now very soft and pliable, with a main page that shows my picture peeling off. On my recent trip to the Bahamas, it seemed my passport had been flagged, since the last few times I’ve used it they warned me that next time they won’t let me aboard.
My passport has seen a lot of use, but the real reason for its rough shape is because I don’t treat it very well. I know you’re thinking, “surprise surprise” but I am quite proud of my passport, even from the first day I received it, so I suppose I should have taken better care. My first trip abroad was to New Zealand, where I studied abroad for 6 months and left the U.S. for the first time. I was 20 years old, finally getting a chance to travel, with an excitement that was palpable. I took my photo in a CVS, with a side braid and a homemade necklace, looking fresh-faced and happy. In fact, I still get compliments about that picture which I think reflects more of my excitement than my actual looks.
The mistreatment of my passport began in Europe, where I kept it on me at all times since I was frequently passing between France and Switzerland, where I lived as an Au Pair. Casually throwing it in my purse did nothing to protect it from the elements, particularly since the contents of my purse were often the worst enemy. When Val and I took a weekend in Vienna, I loaded my purse with a basket full of green olives, and when I opened my bag a few hours later, I noticed everything was wet and smelling of olive juice, including my passport. My New Zealand visa is consequently tinted green, and the ink on important things such as my birthdate and passport number are slightly smudged. The rest of my Europe trip was not any better. When I spent a month backpacking with a few friends, I was paranoid about pick pockets, so I bought one of those very fashionable and practical Rick Steve money belts to keep my possessions close by. What I didn’t account for was how sweaty Italy can be in late May, and that sweat easily permeates money belts that hold passports. Whoops.
At this point in my traveling career, I hadn’t accumulated too many stamps. I had a visa from New Zealand and France, and one stamp from Barcelona. It wasn’t until the next few years when I started traveling to Asia and South America that I started to amass the irreplaceable records from my trips. For me, getting my passport stamped is a better souvenir than anything money can by, and it is a handy booklet that recounts past trips. Also, some of them were not easy to obtain.
To live as an American in Cambodia, I applied for a new visa for every thirty days I was in the country. Each time it was 40$, and I was there for a total of 4 months. I travelled through Thailand for one month, where I got another visa, and then for one week through Vietnam, where I received another visa. Thus after the first few months of my time in Asia, my passport was almost full. I knew I still had more traveling yet to do, so for the first time I visited a U.S. Embassy in a foreign country to put extra pages in my passport. In Cambodia, it was like walking into an American oasis, and I was reminded of all the comforts I missed. As I first entered, the security guard pointed to a water fountain and said to me, “like in your country.” It had been months since I hadn’t paid for drinking water. I noticed how readily available trash cans were, something I had almost completely forgotten existed. It was also a breath of fresh air that reminded me of my U.S. citizenship, and as I waited in line with many Khymers looking to get a visa to enter the U.S., I was thankful for all the perks my citizenship lent me.
My visa for India was a different story. Val and I realized only 2 weeks before our trip to India that we needed a visa to enter the country. We quickly scrambled to visit the Indian embassy in Phnom Penh, were we found a grouchy and lazy Indian who grudgingly submitted our applications. Our case was a little more complicated since we were spending 2 weeks in India, traveling to Nepal, and then returning to India again. When we asked him for a double entry visa, he said, “It cannot be done. At least at the normal price.” This was our first lesson in bribery, and one that rules many developing and corrupt countries. Luckily this hindered none of our plans.
While flipping through my passport I am reminded of each of my trips, and their adventures, many of which have no physical embodiment except through a stamp in my passport. I have one from Malaysia, where Val and I spent a world wind 12 hours in the bustling city of Kuala Lampur. There is one from Costa Rica, where I spent 9 days on a surfing vacation. I have a visa from Argentina, where I was charged a hidden fee of $140 to enter the country, only because America has imposed a similar fine for Argentines entering the U.S. And there is a stamp from Sikkim, a region of India that is strict in monitoring its foreign visitors, and records their movement among its Himilayan mountain towns. Each one sparks a nostalgic memory.
If you’re worrying whether I made it to the Bahamas, I did, without any major problems and was greeted by the friendly nature of the people from the island of Eleuthera. My passport doesn’t expire for another 4 years, but perhaps I shouldn’t wait until the trip where they don’t let me on the airplane.
The Holidays
December was a busy month in Key West, and despite the fact that the holiday season was filled with 75 degrees and palm trees I celebrated the holidays more than ever before.
Thanksgiving is fast becoming my favorite hoiday now that I have spent the last few years eating and drinking with a friends that call eachother family. We cooked a turkey and many sides at our house, and set the table for about 20 people. We went over-the-top-festive, creating homemade centerpeices and headbands that showed allegiance to either indians or pilgrams. The food was incredible, and everyone indulged in some classic over-eating. We finished the night with some Catch phrase, and although my competitive side was raging, the girls still lost to the boys.
Life in a Day
I found a great movie yesterday that was showcased at the Sundance music festival. It is a Ridley Scott film, but created by youtube. The director asked people from all over the world to submit their life on the day July 24, 2010. He clipped the film together, and made a time capsule of earth on this particular day.
There are some influential themes and shocking images, and they are clipped together artistically. They ask about the thing you love most in the world, and people talk about small things and large things. One of my favorite answers was from a guy who loved his cat more than anything else, and then started crying. There was numerous proposals, and a vow renewal. One girl loved the word Mamiliapopatapai, which really does have an interesting definition. They show how women defer to men in other countries and kneel before them. There was a Cambodian wedding, which was fun to see after my experience. Another favorite clip was from a guy who lives in New York City, calling to tell his grandmother that he is gay. She says she loves him still. They follow a small 4-year old boy from Mexico who works as a shoe shiner, and thinks he is rich from the dollar in his pocket. There was a unique contrast between the daily life of an Afghan who lives in Kabul and the wife of a deployed soldier. A shocking image of a cow being killed almost made me want to turn vegetarian. And finally, one of the craziest videos was during the Love Parade in Germany last year, where 12 people were killed from stampedes due to overcrowding. So the movie touches on animal rights, poverty, love, women’s rights, homosexuality, war, and overpopulation. And there’s even more… 90 minutes worth.
The movie begins slow, and the ending is somewhat cheesy, but this should make you want to see the world.
http://www.youtube.com/lifeinaday
(If you don’t have time to watch the whole thing, skip to minutes 41:00-45:00)
Fantasy Fest
It’s been about a month since the 10-day long festival surrounding Halloween began, and it’s taken me that long to recover and process the ordeal. Daily life seemed to shutdown around Key West, and in its place came costumes, theme parties, parades, and shinanigans.
Fantasy Fest kicks off with Goombay, a two-day festival in Bahama village, heralded as “the local’s party.” This is when all the locals emerge from their separate lives around Key West, and convene on Petronia steet for street food and live music. I ran into every person I have ever met or known in Key West. Little did I know this was the last time I would see most of them in their every day clothes for the next week.
Zombie Joe and Bruce
Sunday, the day after Goombay, was a Zombie bike ride. For years many people have joined the zombie craze - zombie movies, zombie pub crawls, zombie costumes – and we were all wondering what the hype was about. A local bike shop in town advertised for the second annual zombie bike ride around Key West, and knowing many of our friends were attending, we threw together a costume at the last moment. A neighbor, Jim-who-likes-to-swim, is a professional body painter, and he quickly spray painted Bruce and me with green and white paint from head to toe. Splash on a few bloody trickles, and we were zombies. It was estimated about 400 participants road their bikes about 2 miles from the bike shop on stock island, along the pier and beach of South Roosevelt, to Higgs Beach, where a zombie dance party ensued. From there we road through Duval street, where stunned tourists congregated to take our picture and gawk. I now understand the appeal of the zombie movement, as my favorite part of the evening was extending my hands and shouting, “BRAINS” at all the passing tourists.
The epitome of Fantasy Fest
We started the night at our favorite bar, The Porch, where “the March of the Tutus” began, and ended the night at Mangos, where there was a DJ and hundreds of dancing Tutus. Becoming bored of the pop music, Bruce and I left early and walked Duval street. It was my first taste of Fantasy Fest, which consisted of scantily clad (often naked) individuals letting loose in public. That was my first taste, but there was much more to follow.
At the Porch on Thursday night, there was a jump back in time to flapper girls and newspaper heralders of the 1920s. I drank champagne out of a flute, and danced to Ragtime music, which is far better than today’s music. From the Porch, our group went to the Green Parrot, Key West’s oldest bar and the location of great late night music. As our third major costume party that week, we woke up Friday morning swearing off all costume parties for a long time.
We didn’t have much time to rest, because Saturday was the grand finale, and the big event that many people in our group had been working towards for weeks. It was the Fantasy Fest Parade, where 70,000 people sit on Duval street to watch 40 floats parade by in this years theme – Aquatic Afrolic. Our float was “The Invasion of the Lion Fish”, a project Hutch and Rick had designed at the shop on the Stock Island. The lionfish was created using chicken wire, bubble wrap, and paint, then set atop Hutch’s yellow jeep, which was harnessed to a large float that was dispensing lionfish venom. This was a particularly creative idea, since lionfish are a local epidemic invading the waters around Key West and the Carribean. With no known predators, they are affecting native lobster and fish populations.
The idea was that the 100 or so participants in our float had mutated and were now invading Key West. The effect of so many lionfish marching with the float down Duval street was really powerful, and many parade goers shouted to us that our float was the best. We threw red beads to the crowd, and danced to our floa’ts music, dispensed from powerful speakers. This wasn’t Hutch or Rick’s first time creating a float for the parade, and it showed in their preparations. We had 2 port-a-pottys on the float, important for an event that lasts 3 or 4 hours and involves drinking almost 6 kegs of beer. Bruce had the responsibility of driving the float, and it was fun beign a part of such an epic and impressive event.
Although Fantasy Fest was an incredible experience, most of us were happy to see it go, and are content with spending quiet nights at home for a few weeks, at least until it is someone’s birthday, thanksgiving, a going away party, a camping trip, christmas, or new years….
Go Tommy!!!!!
Send your good vibes to Tommy!!!! He is on Day 13 on the wall!
“TOMMY ATTEMPTS THE WORLD’S HARDEST CLIMB” (by Chris Weidner)
Tommy is attempting to free the Dawn Wall on El Capitan.
”If successful, this will indisputably be the world’s most difficult free climb.
“Before I go on, let’s get a few terms straightened out. The difference in wording between “free soloing” (no rope) and “free climbing” (a rope and gear are used for safety) is subtle yet crucial. Free climbing is what most climbers do most of the time.
“On big walls like El Capitan, however, more than 99 percent of the ascents require, at times, “aid climbing.” This means pulling on gear to get through difficult sections rather than climbing “free,” i.e. using chalked hands and sticky rubber shoes, with a rope and gear only as a safety net.
“The distinction between “free” and “aid” is enormous. For example, hundreds of climbers have “aided” to the top of El Cap in the vicinity of the Dawn Wall, but only Tommy had the audacity to attempt to “free” it. As Tommy explained in an article in the 2011 edition of Ascent magazine, “Getting to the top is no longer important. It’s how — preferably via a first free ascent — that matters.”
_______________________________________________________________
“Tommy’s original partner for this year’s attempt was Kevin Jorgeson, of Boulder. Kevin joined the project in the autumn of 2009 when they worked on the route together for two months. At that time, they still hadn’t freed all the individual moves on the Dawn Wall, let alone many of its 30 total pitches.
“One of the moves that stymied the pair for months is an improbable all-points-off, 8-foot sideways leap to a small, slanting edge. A few weeks ago, Kevin severely sprained his ankle attempting this move and was forced to abandon the project.
“Seven of the Dawn Wall’s pitches are rated 5.14, with three of them rated 5.14+. For perspective, free climbing even a single pitch of 5.14+ is so impressive (and so rare) that when any climber accomplishes it, anywhere, the ascent is immediately front-page news in worldwide climbing media. Tommy now faces three 5.14+ pitches in a row. In the middle of a 3,000-foot wall.
“Tommy has now invested much of the last five years into freeing the Dawn Wall — something so much harder than anything he (or any climber) has ever done that he nearly gave up. In Ascent, Tommy wrote that he worried about wasting too much of his life “on the impossible.”
“But now, despite the freezing temperatures and falling ice of the last few days, his project seems more possible than ever. Tommy is “feeling strong” (according to his frequent Facebook updates), the weather forecast looks promising, and he’s completed four out of the seven hardest pitches.
“Regardless of the outcome, we can all draw inspiration from Tommy and his devotion to his passion. He wrote,
“If a decade spent free climbing El Cap had taught me anything, it is that if something you want seems impossible, work harder.”
- I snatched excerpts from the article by Chris Weidner, http://www.dailycamera.com/recreation-columnists/ci_19292536
Who thought naming a dog would be so difficult?!
Harvest Fest
The end of my vacation seemed to be a massive 3 week long festival, starting with a music festival in Arkansas hosted in the Ozark mountains. One might wonder whether Arkansas is worthy of a massive, 4-day bluegrass event hosted by Yonder Mountain String Band, but one look at the changing colors of the Ozark mountains nestled deep in the woods an hour away from Fayateville, it was clear that Harvest Fest was a special venue.
Patrick, Megan, Bruce and I drove through the night from Colorado to Fayateville, with mostly Patrick and Bruce taking the wheel. After a brief catnap, we arrived at Mulberry mountain at noon just as the first band was scheduled to play. Turning left into the entrance revealed a huge field covered with tents as far as I could see. The sky was perfectly blue and a giant orange orb floated like a blimp in the sky, representing the Harvest moon that we were there to celebrate.
We found Becky and Connor, our Arkansas hosts, and set up a campsite that was farther away from the main stage, but quieter with more respectful neighbors. As soon as possible we headed to the main area, where 3 stages were set up to play music non-stop from 12 nooon to 3 am. There were a list of bands performing all weekend, and we scheduled out our days so as not to miss any particular band. Bruce was familiar with many of the bands since they have played at the Rock Inn numerous times, which was fun to see them on the bigger stages. We estimated about 4,000 festival goers in attendance, and part of the fun was staring at their wacky costumes and behaviors.
At night things got even more interesting, with lights and bigger crowds, especially for the three-hour sets of Yonder Mountain String Band. Every 5 minutes, someone would raise a paper bag fueled by a small fire (like a hot air balloon), and it would float away through the night sky. On one failed attempt, the orb landed among our group, and we each grabbed a corner and launched it. I can imagine that hikers and animals will be finding paper bags among the woods for weeks to come.
The music was fantastic. It’s the exact music I love, and I even found some new bands that I never really had the opportunity to listen to. Trampled by Turtles played during the day on Saturday and the fiddle music was unbelievable (See my brief video). We saw Vince Herman on the smaller stage, and the place was packed! The audience moved as if one group, loving every moment of his set. Railroad Earth played on the main stage, and played a few of my favorite songs, which we all had a lot of fun dancing to. We grabbed front row seats to Big Smith, a Rock Inn favorite, and they all shouted “Hello” to Bruce from the stage, which is always exciting. The hands down favorite of the weekend, however, was Elephant Revival. They are a band from Nederland, near Estes Park, and play great acoustic music, with wonderful melodies and a kick butt violin (Try “Asleep with the Light On” or “Sing to the Mountain” on Spotify). They are gaining support quickly, and are the only band we saw to hear chants from the crowd for an encore.
Music aside, the festival was a beautiful weekend. The weather was perfect – hot during the day and cooler at night. We had a lot of fun camping, cooking, and spending time with good friends. We met some interesting people, including our neighbor, Guy, and his gypsy family. One morning they woke us up with their slide guitar and banjo. Music festivals are a culture independent of anything else I’ve ever known. People make their living selling home made earrings, others travel all summer long from one venue to the next, and some look forward to seeing a favorite band all year long. Despite the 26 hours of traveling, I would be ready to return to Harvest Fest in a moment. Although I will need at least a year off, since as soon as I returned to Key West, the 10 day insane festival known as Fantasy Fest had begun. But that is for next time.
Milner to Bear, via the Circle peaks
My last hike of the season was somewhere around 23 miles, although it’s difficult to say exactly since few people are crazy enough to do this hike. It traversed the Circle Peaks, starting at Milner Pass and ending at Bear Lake, and by the time we finished we vowed to never repeat it again.
There were four of us on the hike – Rebecca, Erin, Ross, and myself – and we met at Milner Pass around 4 in the morning. There was a 0% chance of rain predicted, which was important since most of the hike was above treeline, in highly exposed and isolated tundra. We saw no one else the entire day.
The circle peaks include Mt. Ida, Chief Cheley, Cracktop, Julian and Terra Tomah. Because of our alpine start, we reached the top of Ida at sunrise, with a spectacular view of the Continental Divide fresh with a dusting of snow. The first three peaks were a walk in the park, and we had no idea what the ridge to Julian had in store for us.
Sunrise on Ida
The Julian Ridge
Boston
Just like old times
I took a break from my vacation to visit Boston, and reconnect with friends from College. The kind of friends you get when you play on a sports team together, live together, eat every meal together, shower together (post-practice), party together, travel together, and make vows to see each other every year. It’s pretty easy to feel comfortable with them after a year or 2 years apart. We fell right back into easy conversation recalling hilarious frat party stories, including the one where we all dressed up like ghosts for Halloween, but instead resembled a bad klu klux klan tribute.
The weekend was really more about reconnecting than it was about touring Boston, but we did manage to see a lot of the sights. We walked around the major parks, followed the freedom trail, glimpsed Owen Wilson and Jeff Bridges filming a movie, pondered over Paul Revere’s ancient church, and toured the harbor. Boston is an interesting town, cobblestoned and history riddled, with an Irish and Italian feel.
Boston Harbor
Boston is a likable east coast town, with far more character and intrigue to me than Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington D.C., or even New York City. It is bustling with city dwellers and tourists, and has the New England feeling where you either belong in the club or don’t. I am definitely not in the club.
On a day when Valerie had to work, I spent it in Harvard Square, shopping and trying to picture myself among the academic elite. It took me a stressful hour to reach Harvard from Val’s house since I don’t function well in big, crowded, unfamiliar cities. The bus stop was just outside Val’s front door, but before I got a chance to study the map and route, the bus arrived and I jumped on. I couldn’t find my money right away and the bus driver seemed aggravated, so I gave him a five (the real price is $1.50). I watched as the bus sped down the road, and was wondering how long the bus ride should take, when I glanced at a sign about 3 stops in that said, “Harvard Station.” I quickly ran off the bus, and began walking, thinking at any moment I would stumble into the campus. After twenty minutes of walking through a jewish ghetto, I did some research on my blackberry, and noticed I was at least 4 miles from my destination. So, I jumped back on the bus (for another $1.50), and chose to ask for directions. Perhaps the lesson is “be prepared,” but for me the city brings out a nervous and apprehensive feeling I don’t normally carry.
I like to think of myself as directionally competent and well-traveled, but something about a big city makes me uncertain, especially in cities on the east coast. Everyone seems to be in such a hurry with little tolerance for tourists or the incompetent, that I desperately try to fit in, often at my expense. Public transit, crowds, traffic, parking, and large buildings have never been my forte. I hate feeling like I am “lost in the shuffle,” and I much prefer eye contact and friendly hellos with strangers. I suppose my upbringing in suburban culture, supporting limitless space and Texan greetings, has a lot to do with this. For now, the population size (30,000) and the square mileage (5.95) of Key West, seem to be my max.
The Psychological Stress of a 2 month vacation
I’m about half way through my 2 month vacation in Estes Park, a luxury not many people have during this time of their life. My parents have a cabin at the YMCA of the Rockies, where they are volunteering for the summer. After several months of 91 degrees and high humidity in Key West, I had been fantasizing about my vacation in Estes Park for a while. I had a list of hikes to achieve, friends to visit, small road trips to make, and books to read. I have quickly realized how difficult vacation can be.
Let me clarify, before anyone begins to feel “sorry” for me. I love vacation! I can do every single social opportunity available — parties, movie screenings, hikes, yoga, impromptu road trips. I have an endlessly open schedule! But there is a slight stress to being on vacation. Besides the obvious lack of income, the absence of obligations is surprisingly exhausting. While everyone seems to be entrenched in their lives, I feel relatively unproductive each day. I have goals of doing everything, but feel no pressure to achieve anything. Thus my month so far has been filled with more nights out and watching episodes of “Mad Men” on my mom’s ipad, than 20-mile hikes. Perhaps retirement isn’t suitable for a 25-year-old, as appealing as it sounds.
The variety of activities has been enjoyable, however, and spending time with my parents and home-cooked meals has been rewarding as well. I have managed a few hikes:
My first hike was to Eagles Beak, with my close friend Patrick Nelson. I was slightly underprepared, wearing trail running shoes that did very little to keep out the wet swampy terrain. After 5 miles of trail, 2 miles of bushwacking through deep and nasty krumholtz surrounded by marshes, and a strenuous short mile of steep rocks, we arrived at the base of Eagles Beak.
Frozen Lake and Eagles Beak
