Category Archives: People

Even Better

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I spent most of 2011 traveling, climbing, having fun, and being with people I cared about.  I didn’t have to work, I had few if any responsibilities, and in review I’m pretty happy to say that it was the best year yet.  I rang in 2012 swing dancing to a live big band with a good portion of downtown Missoula as part of the First Night festivities- credit to Hannah for dragging me onto the dance floor, and credit to my friend and co-worker Andy for showing  some serious swing moves.

Enjoying a very tight band, and I didn't have to play!

One thing I’m sure of though, is that is only gets better.  I’m working, I have limited means, and I’m in a place which is less accessible to everywhere else- but somehow, all of those things seem like factors that are going to enrich my experience rather than detract from it.

I may not know exactly how yet, but 2012 is going to be even better... (yeah the photo is blurry, but the feeling is spot on.

New Years Day and Thanksgiving are the two major holidays that really mean something to me.  I got up this morning and biked over to the hills just behind the University and hiked up to the University M that is built into the hillside.  Something about the first light on the first morning is a good time to get inspired, and I hadn’t seen the city from that vantage yet.  What are you going to do to make 2012 the best year yet?  I’m not sure, but I got plans… stay tuned.

Missoula, on the first morning of 2012, from "The M" on Mt. Sentinel.

 

Work in the Morning

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Dubstep-- go. Focus-- go. Ideas-- go.

Over dinner last night, one of my new friends here in Missoula joked “Come on out to the bar with us tonight Skander, its not like you have work in the morning!”

While I appreciated that she was celebrating my flexibility (something which I hope to retain while I develop work for myself), she was fundamentally wrong.  I have a ton of work to do. No, I’m not getting paid for this work, and no, no one will actually care if I don’t work on the ideas I have in mind, but if I ever want people to take me seriously- I gotta get out of bed in the morning and get to work.  This phase of my work is about investment.  It’s about creating a portfolio of work in Montana that will be the foundation for all future business.

Look Out for Yourself

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“Skander, the most important thing is that you look out for yourself, because no one else is going to do it for you.'”
(quote attribution withheld out of respect for the speaker)

…and sometimes the people whom you hope look out for you, simply can’t.

In general, I try pretty hard not to make enemies in life. Despite my best efforts, I’ll be leaving a few behind in this city. Clearing my life out of this city, I haven’t exactly included time for making amends. Today I stand humbled as new information sheds light on a situation I didn’t understand and in which I didn’t play my cards right. And in which I found I made an enemy. Maybe I should make amends, but maybe I haven’t because I’m not sure it’s mine to do. I’ll need to keep a careful eye over my shoulder as a result. Welcome to being an adult Skander.

To the person in today’s item- I publicly and sincerely apologize for my lack of foresight and lack of sensitivity.
To the others for whom I have failed to make amends- it is likely we are past apologies. Thank you for your lessons, for sharing this life together such that we might learn from each others mistakes. Thank you for any measure of forgiveness you may be able to offer.

A Totally Different Picture

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As I often do when I have a long way to drive and an empty seat in the car, I offer folks a ride via Craigslist rideshare.  It’s a great way to help me save on gas, help someone else get a cheap ride, and have some company for a long drive.  Most folks I meet work low income jobs, are underemployed, or students, but almost all of them are friendly and reasonable.  Sometimes we talk a lot, sometimes very little- I don’t feel compelled to talk to anyone, but I find that the people who get in my car often come from such totally different circumstance than myself that talking with them helps me really understand the humanity of my world much better.  An artist from Seattle, a brick-layer in Salt Lake City, a line cook in San Francisco.  I’ve given rides to dozens of people at this point, but the drive from Spokane to Portland was unique.

I picked up Reta (not her real name) at a reasonable looking hotel near the highway, and instantly my prejudice kicked off- “crazy person, oh boy.”  She had a guitar, some plastic bags, and an oddly loaded luggage rack/backpack combination, and after loading this in the car I quickly realized she was homeless.  While I steered us back to the highway, the first questions out of her mouth revolved around smoking regulations for various substances and whether or not I could help her find any marijuana in Portland.  I was battling a fierce cold, and had already been driving for 3 hours.  I wasn’t in the mood to play therapist but after a few hours of quiet, the conversation seemed to open up and I found someone with a totally different picture of what life looked like. I dropped her off with the Occupy Portland folks, she gave me the gas money that we agreed on, and I went to stay with friends for the evening.

I’ve spent the past few days frustrated with myself because even after paring down my possessions in March (before putting them in storage), I have too much junk and there is no way most of it is going to fit in the back of my Jetta.  I went to Missoula and made friends on day one.  I have the option of pursuing whatever it is I feel like doing with my life.  I am privileged.  When Reta got in my car, all of her worldly belongings fit easily in one side of the trunk.  She was going to Portland because it was someplace she could get high.  Hope was foreign, friends were uncommon, and life consists of getting by (and getting high) by any means necessary.  Apparently, Reta used to have a family.  She used to do body work and massage.  She used to work in a chiropractic clinic.

It was a sobering and valuable experience.  I may fall flat on my face in moving to Missoula, but even then it’s hard to picture myself in Reta’s shoes.  There is a totally different picture of life out there, and it reminds me to be grateful for an incredible family, friends, opportunity, and education.

Lakeside, Montana

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I spent this past weekend at the AERO Conference in Lakeside, Montana.  Perfect weather, a gorgeous facility, and a supremely energetic group of people made the trip east well worth while.  I started the weekend with a tour of a fledgling biodiesel, omega-3, and camelina jetfuel plant in Kalispell, Montana and met a weatherization expert who spends his time trying to insulate mobile homes while not falling in through the roof. As it would be, Friday afternoon and the rest of the weekend continued to present a version of Montana that I was surprised to find.

Jeff sets up the bicycle powered apple cider press.

Friday was pretty casual, lots of meeting and greeting, eating good food, and making apple cider by bicycle power.  I quickly came to realize that I was amongst people who really cared about the same stuff I did.  More importantly I noticed that they weren’t particularly wealthy, didn’t tend to have fancy degrees, or sound preachy.  I was with a group of practical, hard-working, staunchly independent, and very intelligent people who are seriously concerned about the sustainability of their local communities.

Yours truly working the cider press.

The conference was equally focused on renewable energy, local agriculture, and sustainable food systems, and attracted a broad range of participants.  Saturday morning we enjoyed an inspiring keynote from Phillip Ackerman-Leist on the challenges of homesteading (yes, people still actually homestead and aren’t just crazy recluse types).  After lunch was a panel discussion followed by small group discussions with leaders in a variety of topics.  I spent all 90 minutes with 8 other people and the owner of Kalispell Kreamery, who recently stood up to two of the largest corporate dairy operations in the country, told them to screw off, and is selling milk right and left (BOOYAH!).  Following that I enjoyed some time with my friend Jeremy who had invited me to the conference (buy his book!) and vaguely listening to the AERO Members meeting, but frankly I was glad to get a break from networking.

Escaping the networking madness with a quick jaunt down to Flathead Lake.

An amazing dinner of local food set us up for the live auction (I’m going to take a blacksmithing class) and a lively night of contra dancing (like square dancing, but less redneck).  Sunday included small group discussions with more local entrepreneurs (who I aspire to emulate), and a great closing address from Pam Gerwe (of Montana Public Radio amongst other things).

Heading down to Missoula on Sunday afternoon.

So what did I “take home” other than a bunch of business cards and some notes I probably won’t read again?  Inspiration, curiosity, respect all jump to mind.  I came to Montana for the conference with the consideration of moving here permanently in mind.  I also came with the idea of trying to be an entrepreneur, and the thought that life in Montana might fit well.  All of these ideas are still true.  I feel both daunted by the challenge and inspired by the opportunities.  Many people this weekend have said “if you want a job in Montana, you have to make yourself a job in Montana… but I will help you.”  I leave convinced that amongst the numerous groups concerned about sustainability, AERO is truly unusual in both the willingness of its members, and the honest humility with which they approach things.  There’s something going on here, and I think I want to be a part of it.

I'm not sure where this road goes, but sometimes you just have to follow it.

North

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I made the drive north to Portland from the Bay today, but that word seems to mean a lot to me lately. The cold fall air, the early sunset, and excitement at the thought of winter sports reminds me that this is where I love to be- in the north.

As I finished the drive tonight I checked in with my mom, who gave me another reason to think about the north. Michael Booth was a friend of mine growing up and a scientist at the University of Alaska-Fairbanks.  He loved the north and the great lands there. The last time I talked to him was just after my first Denali summit- he had just moved into his new job and we were both psyched about being in the north. In some ways, Michael has been a part of everything I have done in the last 15 years. He was the guy who made it cool to love the Bach Suites for Solo Cello. He took me on my first backpacking trip and went step for step with me on a 2km canoe portage I didn’t think I would finish.

Music, outside, pushing myself- sometimes you don’t realize who has helped form yourself until they are gone. Mom wasn’t sure why, but Michael died on October 11, and the outpouring of support on his facebook wall only provides a faint outline of this incredible man. I look forward to paying forward the debt that I owe Michael for the amazing love, energy, and intelligence he shared with me. I played my cello when I got home- first improvising in C minor, and then playing the Sarabande from Cello Suite #3, and somehow even without playing the past few months, all the notes came back. Thanks Michael.

Sunset in the Bay, respect for a man who burned so very brightly.

The Good Parts

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I haven’t been avoiding this post, but recently I’ve gotten a number of very supportive and encouraging emails and it occurs to me that I haven’t shared enough of the small but awesome things that have happened so far on this trip. Happily, this is quite a long post. Surprisingly I’m feeling stellar after a long day in the saddle tackling northern Ecuador. Today had some of everything, and I honestly wasn’t sure I’d make the destination I had targeted, but I did and having exited Colombia it is an appropriate time to share some of the awesome stuff that happened while I’ve been on the road:

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(Southern Colombia is beautiful…)
-Bicycling is a regular part of rural life here (unlike in the USA) and I’ve seen workers of all sorts making their living getting around long rural distances by bicycle. Like the guy who had to take a full sized machete to work, so he stuck it in the back of his pants and got in the saddle (not the guy who chased me off his land).
-I mentioned Barry and Carol Smith (the retired aussie overlanders that rehydrated me in the desert). We ran into each other at random 400km later in the streets of downtown Pasto, and again on the highway to Ipiales. So fun that they decided not to buy a McMansion and play golf. They are getting out and after it, something to aspire to when I’m old.
-In the desert I met a guy named Jose, a Bogotan bike tourist, and despite the fact he spoke no English (and my spanish was worse then than it is now…), we stopped for a 20 minute conversation. He was riding a nice looking Giant-brand road bike with all his kit in a worn leather backpack and was just coming home from almost 6,000km.
-I mentioned my friend Perly who hosted me in Neiva. We stayed up late sharing favorite music and movies on YouTube, but one of the most insightful moments of the trip was when Perly recommended we watch “the Story of Stuff”. If you haven’t seen it, click the link- if you have, think about watching it with someone who lives in a place who’s resources have already been extracted as described in the video.
-Sitting with the crippled guys in the gigante square eating chips and talking. I mentioned them earlier, but it is still one of my favorite spots and favorite moments so far.

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(The helmet mirror is totally the hit)
-In the same town as the crippled guys, I rolled in for lunch feeling hot and worked. The restaurant owner made me feel like a celebrity and wanted all the details of my trip. I couldn’t have felt more welcome.
-Although I don’t recommend the experience I am now accustomed to the reason roosters get the traditional rap for waking up the farm. In San Agustin, there were 3 or 4 that made sure everyone was up well in time for work. It’s one of those things that is so annoying it is hilarious, to wake up to the sound of many, many roosters.
-Later that day in San Agustin, I went to my first true South American market experience. I bargained, I people-watched, and drank many cups of Tinto (the local coffee of choice) with the locals.
-I went out to the archeological park in San Agustin to see the many ancient statues there. On my way in a 50-something woman asked if I wanted to buy a guided tour in English. Usually I skip these things, but she dropped her price and my gut said “take it.”. Seven hours later my new friend Miriam and I were discussing organic farming, community awareness, and animals rights. I’m awfully glad she didn’t back down when I blew her off in the first place. It made my day and completely changed my experience of San Agustin.

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(Miriam, at the headwaters of the Rio Magdelena)
-I woke up yesterday morning and started riding out of Pasto only to be greeted with a steep 10km climb straight out of the city, also known as a smack in the face. Fortunately, approximately half the male population of Pasto was out doing the same ride so I had lots of company. I gutted it out and got to the top of the pass. Predictably there were several spots for breakfast and Luis was particularly impressed with my effort on such a heavy bike (he tried to pick it up out of curiousity). He immediately ordered breakfast for the two of us and in broken bits of both languages we forged a friendship. He is in his 60s but used to be a local champion rider. He was stoked on my trip, and insisted on buying my breakfast. It kicked the day off right. Also interesting to note that Pasto was the first place I’ve seen a prominent fitness culture here- lots of people out running, cycling, and playing field sports. I found it strange not to see this sooner.

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(Breakfast with Luis, the older guys always know what’s up)
-Later in the same day I was rolling into Ipiales, a gritty border town I had been warned to watch my back in. Just outside the city I saw a gathering of what I learned was the Ipiales Cycling Club. They cheered me as I passed by- I needed to find a decent hotel and suddenly I knew just who to ask. I turned around and rode back to them, and no sooner did I put my foot down than they crowded around with questions, handed me a beer, and started posing for photographs. I walked away with both a hotel recommendation and a Ipiales Cycling Club wind jacket (that doesn’t fit, but that I am supposed to carry all the way to patagonia…).

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(Amazing lunch for $2.50 in Ipiales, which I really think is quite a fine place)
-and today, when I thought my legs were beat, I got to cross an international border on a bicycle, cycle through some of the most beautiful country yet, and take lots of breaks so I could get to where I needed to be, however unlikely it seemed at first.

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(Ready for another stellar day, this morning)

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(Clean roads and big skies on my first day in Ecuador)
So yeah, in case you were wondering, I think I’m finding my groove in this thing. I’m psyched for tomorrow, and all the next best pieces.

Lead an Examined Life

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“Running breaks my body, but it sure fixes my soul.” (Garrett Moon)
This post started as a longer, less focused expression of a wide variety of emotions I’ve held closely for the last 2,000 miles of driving. After a long run tonight, I’ve found a more meaningful and concise set of words.

I met an important woman on my flight from Chicago to Dallas on Wednesday morning.
I arrived in West Virginia late Saturday night and sent an important email.
Sunday I drove 450 miles northeast to meet her in Niagara Falls, NY.
We laughed over dinner in a dive bar, split a bottle of wine, and walked along the river.
She had to work on Monday, and I still had 2,700 miles to drive to Portland.
The odds are reasonable that I will not see her again.
It was worth it.

She is intelligent, beautiful, humble, and willing to look at herself and her life carefully in the mirror. She is nothing short of incredible to me, and I’m looking forward to developing our friendship. True to her form, getting to know her meant that she forced me to look at my life in the mirror very carefully. Thank you lady.

One of the reasons I started this blog was to allow a more transparent examination of my life. The directive “lead an examined life” actually comes from my time working for patagonia (the clothing company), it’s value has held in the years since I worked there. When I’m forced to examine my life more closely, I know I’ve done something correctly. I enjoy long distance driving for the mental space it affords me, this trip has been no different.

You should be looking at the ridgeline behind the highway, mountaintop removal- the real deal in West Virginia.

Cleveland.

How far would you go for the right person? How far would you go for the right job? What constitutes being in “the right place” (or “the right person” or “right job”)? On what do we base our priorities?

Central Illinois.

Mississippi River.

When our personal and functional dreams seem to be at odds, how do we know when we we’ve struck the right balance? When do we compromise? When do we refuse compromise?

I’ve been fortunate to have spent the past 6 months following my heart, and learning about myself, but in many ways these bigger questions remain unanswered. I haven’t forced myself to be accountable for answering them. Certainly I have experienced personal growth, but maybe this experience renews the cycle- in some ways I feel like I’m starting from square one. These questions will be waiting for me when I get back from South America, and I will be required to answer them in order to move on with my life. The commitment I have to my values makes it difficult to ignore, or answer these questions falsely.

Renewing the cycle in Nebraska, the very spot I camped four years ago while moving to Oregon.

The northern plains of Colorado.

“Allow. That’s most of what we have to do, is allow it. We might not understand now or ever, but we will feel our lives.” (Andrew Given)

To Grandmothers House…

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…we go. I’ve been in Montgomery, Alabama since Wednesday morning to visit my grandmother. That Montgomery is different than Portland might be the understatement of the year:
Hot weather and high humidity.
Bad coffee and no bike lanes (or sidewalks!).
Aging infrastructure and racism.
I may be a fish out of water, but I have loved my time here. It’s been 10 years since I paid a visit. My grandmother has always been willing to travel to see me in Chicago or Austin and I’ve not made time to make the long trip southeast. This was overdue, but perhaps just the right time to appreciate the differences and learn from the culture here. My grandmother recently moved into an “active seniors community” (nurses are available, but most residents are pretty happy rolling on their own) and staying with her has been an insightful look both at southern culture and the challenges that senior citizens face. To say the least I am humbled.
I love my grandmother, at 91 she is still lively and game for a good time. I had no clue this time together would be this much fun, or this valuable. I got off the plane in time to face a gigantic lunch of southern food on Wednesday, followed by a live band performance at her residence, a light supper (bad coffee and water only after the soul food lunch), and evening church.

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(Angioplasty anyone?!)
Most of the people at church I still remembered from many childhood visits here and folks were frankly thrilled to see me.
I didn’t feel like I hit the groove though until Thursday morning. We took a tour of the Alabama justice building (home of the state supreme court), and the Civil Rights Memorial at the Southern Poverty Law Center. Arguably as moving as the Holocaust Memorial, I left with tears in my eyes and a renewed determination that our society will not truly be sustainable until we manage to treat all people with equality on all levels. I cannot more strongly recommend a visit. At the memorial fountain in front of the building I met a woman named Sara currently serving in the Marines. She was similarly overwhelmed, and suddenly my appreciation for her willingness to serve in our military rose above my general contempt for the military decisions made by our government. Before heading home we checked on tour times for the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr preached from 1954-1960. It was a morning of deep respect for many things.

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(Surprisingly stunning architecture at the justice building)

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(There’s a picture somewhere of me, here, 20 years ago)

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(Touching history)

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(The King Memorial Dexter Avenue Baptist Church)
Thursday afternoon saw us running errands and playing dominos with some of the local residents. Funny how the rules change when most of the players have limited short term memory- hilarity ensued. Thursday we headed out to the Hyundai motor plant south of town a ways. I’ve toured a variety of manufacturing plants, but never a complete car assembly center. The scale was enormous, the technology was cutting edge, and the people were exceptionally friendly. Truly an amazing tour if you ever get a chance.
Today we headed back to the Dexter Avenue Church for a full tour, and again I was deeply mover by the depth and significance of the civil rights movement that started right here. Though I’m not attracted to formalized religion at the moment, the Spirit here is unmistakably powerful- kinda wish I could attend a Sunday service here.

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(In front of Dr. King’s pulpit)
This afternoon I was the star attraction as I gave a scheduled talk for the residents of the retirement community showcasing my recent trip up Denali. Only a few people fell asleep! For the most part everyone was thrilled to see the photos and I had a blast giving the talk. I suspect volunteering to give my slideshow at other retirement communities could fill a charitable niche that my life has been missing lately. We polished off the evening with two rubbers of bridge and helped my grandmother make some new bridge partners. The rules in Dominos might have gotten a little sloppy but there was no nonsense in the bridge playing. I dished it out as well as I took it and had a blast.

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(Average of 60 years of bridge playing each, time to bring the A game)
Safe to say it won’t take me another 10 years to get back here.

Fire.

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I’m a bit behind and am posting this from Montgomery, Alabama. More on that soon.
Monday night I met up at a bar on the north side of Chicago with two friends that reinforce some very important ideas.

In some ways, my social circle is growing smaller- having less time to spend with people has forced me to consider who it is that is most imperative that I spend that time with, and I’ve started to notice a trend in why I chose to spend my time with the people I do.

I spend my time with the people that hold themselves to some account of how they spend their time. They hold me to account for how I spend mine. They are passionate, dedicated, enthusiastic, positive, and engaged. They know what they are doing, and aren’t afraid to chase it all the way. They have a fire in their belly that is familiar to me, and that I esteem above most other traits.

Matt is going to fix healthcare in the United States. From the clarity with which he explains himself and the depth of his experience, I believe him.

Hattie is going to fix our kids relationship with God, whatever they may conceive him to be. From the smile on her face, and the passion in her eyes, I believe her.

And then Matt put the question to me, what are you really going to do with your life Skander? His goal is big and audacious, and he won’t achieve it alone, but I believe it’s possible. I’ve been trying to figure that out all summer- after our conversation, I’m finally able to describe it:

I am going to change the way humanity interacts with natural resources.

I consider myself incredibly lucky to have friends that continue to force me to sharpen the edge of my razor, and that these friendships continue to grow through shared motivations, despite the geographic distance between us. It’s important times here in Chicago.

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