Portland #3: Lessons

4 Replies

After an unexpected full week in Montana, I drove back to Portland today. The time in Missoula was just what I was looking for, and it’s exciting to say: I’ve found housing and a new community that seems to welcome me with open arms. This time, the trip to Portland isn’t returning to home, but rather to bring my sense of home to Missoula. Yep, that’s right, I’m moving- now that I’ve published it on the blog, I’m committed.

Typical Missoula sunset. Awesome.

When I decided to come back from South America, I knew I wanted to be in a smaller community. I want to know my neighbors, live close to the outdoors, and try something different. I don’t have a job lined up there, and I only have a few months of savings left, but somehow this simply feels like the right thing to do.

Where else can two adults have a perfectly stellar time riding a carousel without anyone raising an eyebrow? (Thanks for Hannah for a fun outing!)

More than just my belongings, I look forward to bringing many important lessons with me from Portland to Missoula.

Be discerning about the people you spend your time with- your friends an excellent mirror for your character and direction in life.
In business, accountability is all that really matters. Accountability=integrity=success.
Live your life on your terms and no one else’s- you are an adult, and you get to make the call on what that looks like.
Success is looking back with no regrets, and knowing the next thing you do will be the best thing yet.

I arrived tonight feeling very under the weather, so this post is shorter than I’d like. Suffice to say it felt hard and scary to think of moving my stuff out of here, of leaving regular contact with so many wonderful friends behind. This next step feels like the greatest adventure yet, and that doesn’t come without some discomfort. I’ll look forward to seeing many people in my next few visits (I’m making two trips PDX<–>MSO), please be in touch if you are here in PDX. A few photos from the week:

Even better than my beloved New Seasons...

Even Miss Rasa (daughter of my friends Jeremy and Crissie) gets involved with the recycling effort.

Lakeside, Montana

2 Replies

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.

Take the Tools for a Walk

Leave a reply

It’s what we say when we get up at 2am, hike for 8 hours with a pack full of ice climbing gear on our backs, and get back to the car without really climbing anything. My friend Chris called me last Sunday and proposed we climb the North Face route on Mt. Hood this morning. Word on the street was that climbing conditions were good and the weather looked solid. The North Face has been on my climbing ticklist since I started ice climbing 2 years ago, and it seemed like I could just squeeze it in between driving back from San Jose and going to Montana. The route doesn’t come “in” very often, and the chance to do it with one of the most influential climbers in my life was prime. We geared up at Chris’ place last night and drove up to the mountain.

(The alpine toys getting ready to roll)
There is a hut to use at the trailhead and we rolled in to grab a few hours sleep before starting to climb. The plan was to get up at 2am, pound a quick breakfast and make the hike to be at the base of the route just as daylight illuminated the hard parts.

(Awesome sunrise colors)
I hadn’t been in the area around the climb in 2 years, and Chris hadn’t been in 3. I thought I remembered the approach being “straightforwards” and the friends I mentioned our plans to had not asked whether I had the beta or not. I thought the plan was simple: hike the hill, descend onto the glacier, don’t fall in any cravasses, and climb the route with impeccable speed and style.

Instead, we took the tools for a walk. Without daylight or any moonlight at all, we had trouble finding a workable route down to the glacier, and then missed the critical ramp on the left side of the glacier. Instead we climbed the gentle line in the center of the glacier and found ourselves in the middle of the icefall in the dark. Both Chris and I had limited time to do the climb, and we knew when daylight hit we would be racing melting conditions to finish the route ahead of ice and rocks falling down the route. By the time daylight hit and we figured out where we should have gone, we knew we were too late to finish the route.

(So close, yet so far. Not this time my friends.)
We finished the hike up to the base of the route anyway just to scope out the rest of the approach and look at the route. Oddly enough, when we got there it was t clear what we were supposed to climb. The majority of the route looked like great neve, but the first pitch seemed to be missing. To get on the route we were either headed up a thin mixed line (we had no rock pro) of marginal quality, or facing a 100′ overhanging ice cliff. Not that we knew what it was going to look like but neither option seemed appropriate forthe route description. Despite our navigational failure, both of us were curious as to whether the route was actually as “in” as we had heard. It was not inspiring, and being 2 hours behind schedule meant that our fate was sure, we were headed down.

(Bergschrund trouble.)
All that said, it was a beautiful day out with a great friend and climber, I wouldn’t have missed it. We all screw up the approach sometimes, and now I’ve got one more piece of experience. The route will still be there next year, and at least the tools got out for a good walk.

(Still, a great day out.)

(Heading home on a gorgeous fall morning really isn’t so bad.)

Work the Plan

1 Reply

I’m back in Portland for just a few days after a full week in San Jose. This week has included a lot of working and planning for many things, mostly which reminded me of what my manager used to say- “when the scene changes- you work the plan, don’t let the plan work you.”

I love to work, and helping my brother with his house was no different. We gardened:

The median strip definitely needs improvement with native plants.

My brother finally makes an appearance on the blog (in an admittedly terrible photo)!

and we mended the fence (that I had built 5 years ago) after the neighbor backed into one of the posts.

Your pressure treated fence posts aren't supposed to look, or wiggle, like this one.

Putting the finishing "touches" on the split... with the sledge (and yes, the pipe and rope come off later).

As always, we ate a lot of great food, shared many great conversations, and generally took it easy while planning my next move.

I came back from Ecuador with a clear sense of my goals, and what I thought might be a clear path to work towards them, but as is often the case, sometimes the plans change. I had hoped to join a close friend in starting a business together in Alaska which would pursue some of those goals, but upon my return we agreed that the timing wasn’t right, and that the idea should remain for another opportunity later in our lives. Suddenly, what I thought was a clear path to execute became a lot broader. The goal remains the same- participate as a leader in a locally oriented business that affects resource consumption towards sustainable levels. I have a lot of questions to ask, so Thursday afternoon I’m headed to Montana to ask some people who might have more insight on what needs to be done next. Local renewable energy and local organic food? Making it happen requires organization, dedication, and business acumen- which happen to be right up my alley. Down the rabbit hole we go.

North

Leave a reply

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.

Times are a Changin’

Leave a reply

Just a quick note to everyone- there’s lots of change, and lots of adventure in the works. There might even be some change coming up here on the site. Thanks to everyone for all the support- it’s been a relaxed week with my brother and sister-in-law here in San Jose, CA and I’m looking forward to sharing more in this space shortly. Cheers!

Sometimes you gotta change things with a sledge hammer.

Goals

Leave a reply

(major typo now fixed)
I didn’t want to see another museum or walk around another church. Instead I spent the last few hours of my time in Quito in a huge park near the center of the city. This is where the locals hang out. On a beautiful Sunday, hundreds of people- families, couples, singles, friends, lovers, dogs, young, old, everyone- playing vibrantly, perusing craft vendors, eating street food. And no gringos. The scene was idyllic, and exactly how I’d like to remember this place. This is humanity. This is community. This is what we want, and what we need.

(Family, community, outdoor, fun. Glad I didn’t go to the museum)
Sunday morning I had gotten an email from my brother regarding my upcoming plans and he had some important questions, including “do you have a plan B and C for accomplishing your goal?”. My brother has been one of my strongest supporters during this period of unemployment, and if I walk away with nothing else from this time, a stronger relationship with him will have made all of it (7 months and ~$10,000 spent) worth it. Lately, he’s been more privy than most to my plans and his questions about them have been amongst the most useful.
I’ve spent a lot of my time here thinking about my goals. When I met my friend on the plane in August, one of the most enjoyable parts of the conversation was about our goals, both big and small. I shared a few immediate and practical goals for the next year.
-Get a WFR certification.
-Volunteer for a habitat restoration group.
-Learn to play the harmonica.
-Get on a 5.11 trad climb.
Good goals are SMART (specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, timely), and I’m really excited about the ones above, as I believe they are achievable and realistic this year. Sometimes though, it’s useful to have broader goals, and in response to the question from my brother, it was only appropriate to outline the big goal I’m aiming for next. If I put it on a resume- I want to participate in a locally oriented business that affects local resource consumption towards a more sustainable level.
There are several ways this might happen, and I’m not quite ready to talk openly about them, but biking around gave the time to really hone in on that goal, and once I knew what I was aiming for, and in light of the fact that I wasn’t working towards some of the other goals on my list right now, it only seemed obvious that my bike tour had accomplished it’s mission. I’m sharing my goals here because I hope that all of you can support me in pursuing them, and hold me accountable when I do things that don’t work towards them. Thank you in advance, and for enjoying my last post from South America.

(At the top of the Basilica de Voto, and a last look at Quito)

Flow

Leave a reply

It was 2pm and the jungle was getting steamy. I had already ridden about 100km and climbed a gigantic pass over the Cordillera Occidental mountains, and my legs were worked. After topping the pass, I had entered the jungle and it had rained steadily for 60km. I got to the town of San Juan Villalobos sopping wet, but feeling relatively good after the long downhill. I hadn’t been certain when the day started as to whether or not I would push on to Mocoa (making the day over 165km or 102 miles). I had lunch and checked the weather, and then decided to push for it.

As I climbed the hills outside of town however, something was wrong. I reviewed the factors at hand in my head- I knew there were no hotels on my remaining route, my legs were distinctly worked, it was hot and getting hotter, I didn’t have a full load of water, and I was in likely one of the most dangerous areas of my entire trip. I had decided to push ahead based solely on the fact that it was 2pm and I didn’t feel like I should be done for the day. None of the facts about the situation were good, nothing about the plan was solid and yet I was pushing my bike down the road thinking I would “just do it.”. Then I did something unusual, I turned around and went back to stay in the town.

I learned a few things that day- when nothing about the plan looks good, it’s time to change the plan. Sometimes you just simply know what you need to do. Not with dread, not with anxiety, but sometimes just with an imperative momentum. Many times in my life I have set goals and achieved them. I’ve pushed on, finished things out, done what had to be done. I’m very good at making plans and accomplishing them. In my 27th year, I look forward to learning how to be more flexible. Often we make plans on a conscious level, yet our unconscious mind, perhaps called our soul, also has a path that we must follow.

I woke up yesterday morning and realized that my unconscious path does not continue south. I don’t have the energy, the motivation, the purpose. More importantly, I don’t believe it is what I most want to do, which is why the first three elements are missing. I don’t even particularly feel motivated to explore Quito, a place I have never been before. I’ve had an incredible time here, but my soul requires application, and deep down, I feel that it is time. There are many, many factors that logically contribute to this course of action and that I explain logically and carefully. When I consider them, they all seem ancillary to the underlying momentum that I simply feel.

The feeling I’m talking about is reinforced by a number of more logical facts- pieces of the plan per se, that simply don’t look good. Continuing to travel would undermine my financial ability to pursue other opportunities that are rapidly approaching. The logistical elements of bicycle touring have limited both the cultural experience I’ve had here, and the wilderness experience I’ve had (you can’t ever leave your bike, but you also can’t effectively leave the road). To continue traveling south solo, I need to invest in developing (studying) my spoken Spanish. I could continue to list reasons, but the most important one is that I simply no longer feel like this is the right thing to be doing, and I don’t need any more of a reason than that.

I am excited to execute many of the ideas, act on many of the feelings, and move the direction that I seen open before me over the course of the past 7 months. The details are not complete, but the momentum is clear. The adventure continues despite the change in direction. I have no regrets, I feel no real conflict, but rather a sense of excitement about taking advantage of the flexibility that I have, and the opportunities that are now available to me. More plans will be shared as they become clear. Love to you all.

Go with it.
Flow with it.

“It’s called feeling,
and it leads to KNOWING.
and after that, there is less searching.”
(Andrew Given)

The Good Parts

2 Replies

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:

(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.

(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.

(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.

(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…).

(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.

(Ready for another stellar day, this morning)

(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.

Occupation

4 Replies

As I travel people often ask me if I am a student, and I describe (in terrible Spanish) that no, I worked for 4 years as a mechanical engineer- something I still care deeply about and consider to be my profession. While riding, the question of how will I next earn an income often arises, and I’m happy to say that while I’m not sure what it will be yet, I am certain I’m looking forward to it.
At the hotel in Pasto I got into a discussion with a German traveler about the merits of the current “Occupy Wall Street” movement. He and I shared some values, but I realized that I significantly disagree with most of what he had to say, and I think it’s best to be clear on where I stand.
I agree with the German that people need to be aware of how significantly and negatively their lives are controlled by a handful a major multinational corporations. Furthermore I believe these corporations are dinosaurs that undermine the progress of our society. They destroy local communities, directly destroy any chance of social and resource equity for all people around the globe, and facilitate a level of greed and excess that fundamentally precludes a sustainable civilization for anyone. In general, I don’t like multinational companies, is that clear (here’s some great data about why we have a serious problem)? All that said, I don’t think the occupy wall street movement is really actually accomplishing anything. My German friend believes that the occupation is a good thing because it is making people more aware of the issues. I disagree, most people hear about the protest via main stream media (whom have only barely covered it), and have successfully portrayed it as a bunch of hooligan 20somethings out to whine and garner attention. Those who read about it otherwise (alternative websites, etc) are already fairly onboard with the message and this don’t really need the reminder (myself included here). My first objection is that the real message isn’t getting to the people that need to hear it. Want to get the message to the right people? Go door to door in your town with examples of how Wall Street impacts your community. My second objection is that my generation needs to create examples of alternative businesses and commerce mechanisms that offer opportunity for employment and demonstrate how a functional, locally based economy can bring greater prosperity, sustainability, and stability to a larger group of people would make a much larger, and more useful statement. Damn straight that’s hard, but so are the global problems that come with a population of 7 billion.
Be creative, look at your communities, identify what you and the businesses in your community can offer better than the big corporations. Try things, talk to people, network, build and show the alternative and take back the market share for the communities you live in (and make sure your congressperson knows what you are up to, and that you won’t be stopped). Occupy yourself first. I’ll be clear, I am part of the 99% and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I worked hard and have earned the opportunities that I have been fortunate to have. I worked my butt off for a long time and can take some time off to travel (on money that I earned). I’m excited to think about the next best ways for me to apply myself towards creating a more powerful, local, sustainable economy (it’s something I think about every day). A good friend recently posted this on Facebook- and while it may read harshly, the point is not to be missed.

Second thought of late.
Data is awesome, and many of the business thinkers that I respect often talk about to importance of data, it’s quality, quantity, and significance. In the green building work I was doing before I started traveling, data was king. The recent passing of Steve Jobs and the many discussions of his personality and success has instilled an important point. Data isn’t everything. Mr. Jobs often raised eyebrows with statements about not doing market research. He was willing to imagine, to innovate, to take the risk that his ideas represented a market that didn’t yet exist- and therefore a market you couldn’t get accurate data for. So in his passing, I look at my life with the prospective of understanding the value of data, and the inspiration of knowing that data doesn’t really describe what the next best thing is. To the wall street kids- what do you want to change? Imagine it, precisely, then work your tail off to make it happen. Mr. Jobs (one person) had that approach and changed the modern conception of technology, media, and information. I bet that all of us together can change even bigger things- like the economy, community, and government.
“Talent is the ability to hit a target no one else can hit. Genius is the ability to hit a target no one else can see.” (Arthur Schopenhauer)
“All of us are smarter than one of us.”
(Dr. Charles Cole)

stickthefeeling

engineering, adventure, and balance

Portland #3: Lessons

Lakeside, Montana

Take the Tools for a Walk

Work the Plan

North

Times are a Changin’

Goals

Flow

The Good Parts