tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68844213097901286082024-03-13T13:45:03.424-07:00Mexico Here I AmNick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-45836651121799773802019-06-26T10:28:00.003-07:002019-06-26T10:28:45.016-07:00Pacific Northwest Trail 2019 After having not used this old blog in years, such an occasion has arisen that warrants a second look. Tomorrow my cousin Josh and I will begin the Pacific Northwest National Scenic Trail. Its a 1200 mile route, stretching from Glacier National Park in Montana to the Olympic National Park on the Washington coast. It's a challenging trail as it is not contiguous. There are sections of bushwacking, road walks, and alternate routes to choose from. We have little to no chance of completing the entire trail in the 51 days our schedule allows, however, eight or nine hundred miles would be a respectable summer.<br />
<br />
The idea of hiking the PNT has been with me for the 10 years since I finished the PCT in '09. When the anniversary drew near, my wife, Emily was more than supportive with the idea. As she is shackled to grad school this summer, she graciously encouraged me to take full advantage of my time off to hike. I am very grateful for this and will miss her a lot this summer. Her replacement and my hiking companion this summer will be my cousin Josh, with whom I'm very excited to spend the summer. Our family is also quite pleased we are going together, as this trail can be quite remote, through grizzly country, with limited options to resupply compared to other national scenic trails.<br />
<br />
The challenge and simplicity are what makes thru-hiking enjoyable. I am very much looking forward to being physically exhausted as opposed to mentally and emotionally drained from my job as a teacher. I agree with Muir, that the wilderness can have a healing and rejuvenating quality to it. He also said, "<i style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks." </i><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> I don't seek much with this trip, and I already receive more than anyone could want or deserve, but who knows what we might encounter along the way. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Special thanks to my wife Emily for being so supportive of this trip. Thanks to my parents for making a trip of driving Josh and me out to Glacier. Thanks to Emily's parents for setting me up with the sweetest satellite messenger I could get. Thanks to Brad and Sheida for an amazing ultralight backpack, and everyone that is interested in keeping tabs on us this summer. I hope everyone has a great summer, and Iook forward to see you in the fall. </span>Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-53316560188412900002011-01-22T15:20:00.001-08:002011-01-22T15:20:29.120-08:00Puerto Escondido<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">True to be said, I am no stranger to the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Seasoned early on with the Washington coast and wind and chill, appropriate attire included jeans, a hoodie and maybe even a stocking cap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But as time has passed, slowly and with the laziest of snowbirds I gradually migrated south, enjoying warmer and warmer shores.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This trip had been planned for a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Every Christmas break the staff tries to do something with the kids that have nowhere to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Most, visit relatives if not their parents, but there are a few who have no one but those at the home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This year there were only three, Pio, Zuriel, and Celina.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Jill, Janelle and Ramona and myself made seven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We headed south on the same road to Huatulco.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The driving was a little more tame this time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We weren’t flexing our stomachs as we did with Habacuc about a month earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Jill drove and drove, deliberate and true and handle the bulk of the distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We were stoked to arrive at the hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was amazing, overlooking the ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The rooms were small but we didn’t plan on spending much time there, though the boys will sit in front of any screen indefinitely unless they are pulled away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The hotel also had its own beach club down a short flight of stairs and trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was another pool down there, with refreshments, and only a step or two from the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The boys swam and swam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The water was warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Puerto Escondido is known for its big surf but it was small while we were there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Even so, I rented a longboard and caught a few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I tried to take Pio out but he wasn’t kean on being in the surf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I tried to encourage him to paddle out past the waves to rest, but he wasn’t cooperating, and I couldn’t tow him without his help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a fairly short lesson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Pio went in and went back out for a few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When I came in to find Zuri to see if he wanted a crack at it, I couldn’t find him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Eventually Pio came up to Janelle and I saying we needed to check Zuri out of the lifeguard’s hut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We couldn’t get a lot of info out of people but apparently Zuri had drifted out a little far on his boogie board.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Janelle talked to the lifeguard who said to be more careful and that if we wanted to buy him a coke or something that would be fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They are “volunteers” and that’s their way of saying to give them money for saving our kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Janelle gave Zuri 40 pesos and said to pay him for your life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we asked Zuri what happened he said he was on his boogie board and not afraid, and I wonder how much saving he really needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That was probably the most excitement of the trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The rest of the time we spent eating out, deciding whether to swim in the pool or the ocean, building sand castles, and a little shopping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I ate a ton of junk food with the boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We did go out on a boat ride one morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>These guys hang out on the beach and wait for tourist to come by and you settle on a price and hop in the boat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They took us out and the highlight was when he jumped off the boat to catch a sea turtle that he roped and hoisted up into the boat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We had a blast and it was over all too fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We got back and had a day or two before everyone returned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When they did it was nice to have everyone back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The vast majority of the kids were thrilled to return.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some seemed to have had a pretty tough break, but after a few days it was business as usual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-40024761804030027812010-12-27T21:19:00.000-08:002010-12-28T06:41:09.130-08:00Christmas Eve in the Zocalo<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxBvym4nKkAgvK27kqZIZ5kmQUCSDLJ0pLVfvCYShiXhOIgRdOG3v0HKQZXHivMsFL6vLrOKwsfiqRIFwx8iQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><div>Hey Everyone, I hope you had a great time over the holidays. Here's a little taste of what we did to celebrate. </div>Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-65812162680417852992010-12-22T10:47:00.000-08:002010-12-22T14:09:43.902-08:00A Night in Tlacolula<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 21px; ">I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> couldn't believe it. The church, which is still lacking in minor detail, was packed. A ton of people had shown up. The crowd had plenty of time to grow. The pageant was advertised to begin at six, but in true Mexican form it didn't. In fact, we weren't even at the church at six. I had been at the church all day laying more of the brick floor, but as the hour drew near last minute preparations were being carried out and we didn't leave to get cleaned up until after 5. Then, we had to eat of course. So we stopped for tacos on the way home. </span></span><!--StartFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium; ">When we did get home at about a quarter till, Denise asked if I could be ready in five minutes. I assured her that I could, and I did. I waited a while for the others, and as the clock struck six I began to worry. Everyone else had gone to the church while we were eating tacos. Aside from Habacuc and Denise and myself, we only had David and Pedro in our group. I checked to see that I hadn't been left somehow, and David told me to relax as he continued to get ready. Denis and Habacuc finally immerged from their house and had a new and uncharacteristic urgency about them. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I jumped into the truck, ready to go and they hit the horn for David. They hit it again, holding a little longer this time. Still David was nowhere to be found. Their frustration surprised me, as our tardiness leading up to this moment had been of no concern, now all of a sudden not one precious second could be spared. Also surprisingly, the decision was made to leave David, who had a significant role in the play and was set to be the entertainment afterwards. We pulled away, but only a few hundred yards or so to the visitor’s center, where we had to grab a couple odds and ends. Luckily David used to the extra time to run down the drive with Pedro and jump in the back of the truck. Finally we were on our way to the church. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We arrived only a half hour behind schedule. Everyone was changing into their costumes. One of the girls painted a beard on my face. Everyone had been pretty upset with me for a while, when I shaved and cut my hair. Apparently I hadn't been chosen for my role based on my Christ likeness, but rather my ragged appearance. I was also interested to observe that the entire stage had been set up opposite of how we had practiced. Stage left was on the right and I tucked that bit of knowledge away for later. The last of my costume was being finished and given to me. Unfortunately for me, this whole thing was going to happen after all. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I wasn't too nervous. I had a bit of time to kill, as I was playing the role of adult Jesus in the Christmas pageant, so I didn't appear for a while. I came to find out that Mexican pageants are quite thorough, taking the audience all the way from the birth through the Crucifixion. Fortunately we didn't also have devils and demons, as I've been told some of the school pageants have been known to squeeze into their programs. At any rate, I pondered my lines, which I didn't actually have to say. They had been recorded, as had all the lines and the performers were simply moving their mouths. Everyone but me had recorded their own lines. Luis' voice stood in for mine as my Spanish is still not up to par with theater standards apparently. I'm not sure why he was chosen, because he had a part of his own, and his voice is rather high and scratchy, which became a highlight for the staff to poke fun of later. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Finally, the lights were struck. The music was cued. We were ready to go, and only about an hour and half late. I think it went well for the most. My favorite part was when Chucho plays the angel that appears to the Sheppard’s. Then his multitude of heavenly hosts joins him, which consisted of the little cuna boys, Tavo, Julio, and Luis (not the same Luis who recorded my lines). It was a pretty good event, kind of blur for me, but I have been assured of a video that exists if I ever care to refresh my memory. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">There was a ton of food and piñatas. The kids had a pretty good time, and I think their parents enjoyed it too. Many of the kids are set to leave with different relatives on Friday. The small group of us that stays behind is excited to be heading to the beach the day after Christmas. Just like home, there are those that are finishing last minute shopping, decorations and cooking. I have been able to take a couple days off from working at the church now that the deadline has pasted and Habacuc and Denise are taking some much needed time off. We are all very excited to celebrate together. Merry Christmas. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-8498049286059167862010-12-17T05:59:00.000-08:002010-12-17T06:00:16.802-08:00The Spirit of Christmas<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s been a whole month since my last post and, having been derelict of my writing for so long, some will remain aloof to the reader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hope that it does not stray from memory when I find myself separated by both time and space from this place and these people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As so much has come and gone in the time we’ve been apart, I’ll try to fill in the pieces with some highlights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">His arrival was much anticipated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Proper research was exercised via facebook though we were still divided on who exactly would show up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Jeff assertively declared it would be the grizzled fly fisherman, while Janelle confidently predicted it would be whoever had dressed their golden retriever in a Canuck’s jersey for their profile pic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Both sides were so sure that a wager was established and we, without TV, local hangout spot, sports, or our normal leisure activities, had some entertainment for which to look forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The guy was driving his motorcycle down from Smythers BC (8 hrs north of Vancouver).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Jeff and I were working at the church and when Habacuc arrived with Dan at the job, he brought Jeff’s fifty pesos from Janelle too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Apparently he had pulled in on his bike greeted by a less than enthusiastic Janelle who immediately new she had lost the wager.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He arrives just in time too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Being a big strong farm boy from BC’s interior, he was perfect for helping us install the final and biggest beam in the church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was to stretch across under the now sagging roof, almost perpendicular to the other beams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Hoisted by measures of rope and awkwardly thrust overhead to hands reaching down, we shimmied one end onto a concrete overhang that would support that side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The other side was rigged with a pulley, yet that did not simplify things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Struggling and straining to move the massive beam, our hands grew limp with exhaustions from holding the line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After many failed attempts the side was finally in position to be jacked into place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We had a three-ton car jack that was fitted with a measure of a wood plank and then cranked up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As I imagine, the total weight of the roof must have drawn near to the max bulk of the jack, yet it slowly and steadily lifted the droopy lid straight and flush.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It felt to be quite the accomplishment when the roof was finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yet the church would prove to be much more work still.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was fun having Dan around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He gave rides to all the kids and taught Jeff and I how to drive the moto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a ton of fun though I nearly laid it down in some loose sand when the neighbor’s dogs ran out in front of me and chased me down the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We got a lot done at the church in the days that he was here, and then he was off to Cancun to catch a flight to Haiti.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sounds like things are pretty rough there, and we all pray for his safety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Dan wasn’t he only surprise visitor to the church, though the other was much less helpful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I didn’t personally see him so I can only repeat the story as I have heard it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Pablo, one of the gentlemen that work at the casa hogar laying the brick wall, will also help us in the evenings at the church tiling the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He’s super nice and a very, very hard worker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At any rate, he was working away in the bathroom after dark when there was a very loud banging coming from the other side of the church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When he lifted his eyes from his work, he saw a massive figure hammering away at the beam we had just hung.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was about three meters off the ground, yet the figure could reach standing on the ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He was very dark and seemed to be content to beat away at the beam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When Jeff and I heard the story, Jeff suggested that it could have been a good spirit that came to help us with construction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When Habacuc translated that to Pablo, all he did was shake his head slowly from side to side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m not sure what it means that there is a nine or ten foot, dark, hammering spirit in the church, but construction to this point has been blessed with safety and accomplishment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hope that it continues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I get a short rest this weekend from working at the church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We are going up to the mountains since most all the kids are going on a youth event with Habacuc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then we’ll return for our Christmas pageant, which I will fulfill my role of our lord and savior, Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can’t believe I agreed to this but there is no backing out at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I hope everyone is having a very merry Christmas season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It would be fun to be home celebrating with everyone, but we are looking forward to taking some of the kids to the ocean soon and celebrating here at the home as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-7502334840415440772010-11-13T21:34:00.000-08:002010-11-17T19:15:24.214-08:00Its a boy!<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I'm sure many, if not all, have heard the news by now. Thankfully other avenues of communication exist besides my scattered postings and those that keep a keen ear to the grapevine have done much to inform me of every new development.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Really, things had settled into place nicely after the Huatulco trip. Jeff and I were working regularly with Santiago about the grounds of the Casa Hogar, the demands of fruit trees, hedges, shrubs and flowers keeping us busy. Andrea and Ricardo were preparing for a much needed and deserved vacation, and the group from the Chapel had arrived. Upon Habacuc's return from the Baja we were once again making progress on the new church building. All was good and ticking along according to plan.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Then Janelle asked me a peculiar question the next morning at breakfast. I told her that, yes I had checked my email last night. I was a bit confused as to why she was sending emails only about forty feet across the courtyard from her house to mine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"No, this morning, did you check your email this morning?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"No."<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Well, Andrea had her baby last night." Of course I was more than a little bewildered over the statement. Andrea was to go on vacation, return, and have the kid months later, but as it turns out, she barely made it to the hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The email I was to read assured me of everyone's good health and that little Micah had, in fact, insisted on arriving almost eleven weeks early. The nature of such an unforeseen event raised a thick cloud of worry and concern, as well as speculation and theories as to the reasons behind happy surprise. Staff discussed, what they thought may have been peculiar events leading up to their departure. Members of the visiting group were eager to share snippets of information discovered from facebook pages or correspondence from other church members back home. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But as many fussed over pictures and posts only minutes old some could do nothing more than wait in anxious apprehension. Some of the boys were most concerned with the matter. The baby was supposed to born in Mexico, born a Mexican. One even asked, "how will we be brothers if he is American and I am not?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The question struck me sharply. It dramatically testifies to the work of Ricardo and Andrea in the life of these boys and to the unintelligible segregation of national economies. I fumbled to respond and finally stumbled across, "porque hermanos tienen lo mismo padres." "Because brothers have the same parents."<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We don't really say brother or sister in church in the states, but here in Mexico hermano Enrique visits the prisons. Hermana Chave shares in devotions. We pray "Our Father", so it makes sense to pray with our brothers and sisters. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I'm continually reminding some of the boys how much Andrea and Ricardo want to return and as soon as they are able. They are eager to see pictures and join in on Skype calls. It will be good for brothers to be united whenever it may happen. </span></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-11882708180686611602010-10-29T06:45:00.001-07:002010-10-31T13:33:30.295-07:00California Dreaming?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUT0-TlXI/AAAAAAAAALk/AJxf8AGvJeg/s1600/PA250016.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUT0-TlXI/AAAAAAAAALk/AJxf8AGvJeg/s400/PA250016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533468529280652658" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUTvLEojI/AAAAAAAAALc/AMYh2SXkWfo/s1600/PA240007.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUTvLEojI/AAAAAAAAALc/AMYh2SXkWfo/s400/PA240007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533468527723586098" /></a>1. Barra De La Cruz<div>2. San Augustin</div><div>3. Grass Hut Chruch at San Augustin</div><div>4. From inside the church</div><div>5. Bayside of San Augustin<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUTcisDpI/AAAAAAAAALU/2Uh_kecpmt4/s1600/PA240004.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUTcisDpI/AAAAAAAAALU/2Uh_kecpmt4/s400/PA240004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533468522722365074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUTGvwHUI/AAAAAAAAALM/z_HegbOAp78/s1600/PA240003.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUTGvwHUI/AAAAAAAAALM/z_HegbOAp78/s400/PA240003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533468516871576898" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUS-FBNEI/AAAAAAAAALE/bVwU6CZtIr0/s1600/PA240002.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 135px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TMrUS-FBNEI/AAAAAAAAALE/bVwU6CZtIr0/s400/PA240002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533468514544858178" /></a><br /></div>Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-22347183656733887092010-10-28T20:32:00.000-07:002010-10-31T13:31:08.976-07:00Barra De La Cruz<div><div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So it has been a few weeks and the last couple blogs have been fairly heavy. There have been so many wonderfully carefree days and delightful fun with kids and staff. It isn't 24/7 drama. Sure sometimes it can be draining, but among whatever it is that may deplete or tire, there is also that which inspires and empowers. There is rest in this place. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The rest has come in days off or time to recover when feeling sick. Even being unexpectedly stranded in the city has broken up the routine. But if there were ever a place to get away from it all and completely relax, that place would be called Huatulco. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">For anyone else Huatulco is about a 6 or 7 hours drive south from the mission sitting on the southern Pacific coast of the state. Luckily we had Habacuc who can complete it in a little over 5 hours including a stop for food. An impressive feat on such a winding mountain road in a 4 cylinder 12 passengers van. The man is a machine, using the entire lane and more to hold turns and keep momentum. Drafting close off the bumper of other vehicles, he sets up the pass. We snaked for hours through the southern mountains at double the posted speed limit. Scared at first, I soon gained courage after observing yet another precise and perfectly executed hairpin. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The entire point of the trip was to bring two of the young adults from our church down to help at church in Huatulco for a week or two. Arriving safely in the little beach town we dropped the kids at the church and hung out for the duration of the evening service. Haba talked with the other pastor at length, about what I'm not sure. Then, though late in the evening and dark as it was, we headed for the beach. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Walking across white sand in the heat of the night under moonlight was almost surreal. Not only that but there was an amazingly interesting hippie drum circle in full force. Beats raging complete with strung out, high on life and other things, hippie dancers. Seemed to be an eclectic group of Americans and Europeans. Not a local in the bunch that I could see. After a short walk and some time just gazing out at the watery expanse, we grab our sleeping bags and threw them out on the sand for the night. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Rising early the next morning we headed back to the pastor's house for breakfast. It was fantastic and bellies full we headed to their shed to borrow some surfboards. They had a bunch of old and busted, faded awesome boards. They handed us some of the beginner foam-tops and we were on our way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We headed to a spot called San Augustin. There is actually a grass hut that serves as the church there on the ocean side of the point. On the cove side there is a string of grass hut restaurants and snorkel shops that are very busy at key points in the year but when we took to the beach there were only four other people. On the ocean side there were about eight or nine-foot waves crashing directly into a 45-degree beach so we took to the cove that was peaceful and quiet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After taking a swim and then a long nap we ate some seviche and hung out and read for a bit. We were headed for another evening swim when I noticed some small waves were slipping past all the rocks and breaking over the choral in the bay. I grabbed one of the foam-tops and paddled out. A local kid joined me on a boogie board and we chatted and caught small short waves for about an hour. Then, as the tide slowly went out, the waves became a little faster and a little steeper and I went over the nose of the board and cut my hand a bit on the choral below. It was a sharp ending to my surf sesh, but I loved every second of it. We walked back over to the grass hut church and slept on the beach beside it for the night. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The next morning came early as Jeff and I were getting eaten alive by some unknown bug that came out of the sand to make us miserable. Haba opted for a room that some of the church members had offered to us, which was good because he was going to drive us back later. We were about to leave the wonderful San Augustin when some of the church members invited us to have breakfast at their little tienda. It was fresh fried fish with tomatoes and avocados and Coca Cola, of course. The breakfast of champions. We stayed and chatted with them for a while. Habacuc is never at a loss for keeping the conversation rolling. But we eventually left and Haba wanted to take us to a spot he said would be good for surfing. He wasn't kidding around. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We drove for about 45 mins and then it was down another bumpy dirt road to the beach. We had to stop and pay for access and we asked the guy how it was breaking today. "Mas o menos." "More or less," was the reply. I can't imagine what more would look like. We parked and walked past a grungy, skinny, sun beaten rabble hanging out by the lone tienda on the edge of the beach. I immediately felt like an outsider. They looked us up and down, eyebrows raised, and I knew, at least on some level, that I wouldn't be sharing any waves with these guys. I quickly found out why. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A few more steps and we had cleared a sandy knoll to a complete view of the best surf I had ever laid eyes upon. It was shocking. I immediately remembered pictures and footage of Jeffery’s Bay in South Africa and Honalua Bay in Maui. It was truly world class. A perfect right to left point break over a sandy bottom, it pealed beautifully for a few hundred yards into the bottom of the cove. Not only that but it was holding sets that were three and four meters high. A light offshore breeze held the wave for an extra second and the crew that was out caught wave after wave seemingly without effort. Catching the peak, they'd scream down the face and hook a huge bottom turn, powering back up to kick spray off the top. At that point they could make a full turn back into the wave or setup for the barrel only half way through the ride. Their rides were, in fact, so long that many of them rode it all the way into the sand and walked back to the end of the point and paddle in from there. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As much as I wanted to try my hand at perfection, I was truly out classed. Even if I had the skill and mustered enough courage to join the guild, I didn't have the proper stick. The beginner foam-tops we had wouldn't be able to hold a rail or carry enough speed to keep me in the blue on a wave like that. It would be like entering your broken down riding-lawnmower at the brickyard. We took some pictures, saw some iguanas and then headed for the car and home. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The last two days have been like many that have come to pass at the Casa Hogar. I woke early to drive kids to school and then returned to do some dishes. Jeff and I were again unsure as to what we would be doing but we were quickly given jobs about the grounds or going to town to run errands or sorting veggies. It was good to be back. The three of us had a ton of fun and now Haba is taking a group of kids to do worship music at the church down there and hang at the beach for a couple days. I know they will have a lot of fun. We are planning to go again around Christmas with some of the kids. Hopefully some day I'll be able to return to that perfect spot.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-22466805983397491692010-10-09T19:28:00.000-07:002010-10-11T05:59:19.250-07:00VisitationBy now there has been an overall shift from general impressions to relationships. The subtlies of eighty some people's emotions mingle and colide in the prisom of the Casa Hogar. This space that is your home, your work place, and house of worship. There is little room to linger between professionalisms and personalities, an idea that kids don't understand and the staff have most likely forgotten. And if only that were all one had to worry about harmony could prevail but forces from outside easily upset all that is worked for in a monthly prescribe disaster we call visitation. <div><br /></div><div>My relationship with the younger boys remains the same as it was when I first arived. I am a true to life, walking, talking jungle gym. We have a lot of fun in the yard just in front of our rooms. Before meals we'll often begin a game of soccer which soon deteriorates into chasing, tackling, and throwing until I literally couldn't lift the smallest of them anymore. </div><div><br /></div><div>The older boys are great. I love our house. Its amazing to get to know their personalities and interests. We'll play soccer into the night with the older kids. They'll bring out lights and extension chords. Its pretty competitive. I usually get stuck at gollie because I'm not very good. We'll play music in the chapel. I'll drive them to school or town. We'll work on projects around the grounds and always eat as a family in the comador. </div><div><br /></div><div>Its amazing to know the staff better and understand on some level. They only thing I could say about them all is that they are characters. Among the most captivating is Edgar the pastor. He is a jolly middle aged man that will do anything at any time for anyone if they ask. They only thing more interesting that being around him is other poeple telling stories of his many exploits. As the saying goes, "its not the year, its the mileage." Edgar has lived. Growing up in a gang and all that means, he has reformed to minister to the mountain poeple of the area. The violence didn't end with his gang membership. He has been threatend with a pointed gun, drawn knife and fists and other weapons. But if God be for him who can be against him. Those that hated his ministry in the mountains would lament that he would not die. Triggers have been pulled without firing, threats have been made but his family is safe and together and vibrant. I ate dinner with them tonight. </div><div><br /></div><div>I work with Habacuc as I've mentioned who is the young new pastor of the church. Him and his wife Dennis live at the Casa Hogar with their daughter and they are the sweetest family. He's a busy boy. He's on the leadership team and supervises the university students as well as his pastoral duties. Even still they will invite me and Jeff over for dinner and bring us food and drink while we work at the church. His abilities are astounding. On top of being a studied and well spoken minister, he is an incredible musician. Drums, bass, guitar, even cello, he can play them all and very very well; technically and with style. At the construction of the new church, he welds and wires. When the welding machine broke he pulled it apart and fixed it. We make due with the materials we have. Its going to be an impressive building. </div><div><br /></div><div>The wemon of the mission are equally impressive. Some are in the middle of the heart renching adoption process. Some fell into responsibilities without yet mastering the language. Others are the reason the mission exists in the first place. Niche has been caring for some of these kids before Foundation for His Ministry began funding her. She has seen them grown and come and go. I do not envey the bredth of human experience she has wittnessed and lived. Maybe standing 5ft off the ground she has been provider, protector and love for these kids. And even in such small stature she is the last stop on the discipline heirarchy. "Do we need to talk to Niche about this?" If that doesn't work, whatever she says to them does. </div><div><br /></div><div>Even so, not all the care and best efforts of these remarkable people can erase the reason the kids are here in the first place. The staff wait in silent aprehension for the coming monthly reminder of this fact. Parent visitation happens once a month. Kids wait to see their parents. Some reunions are good and testify to reform, change or blessing that are happening in the lives of the parent and flood over into the life of the child. But many are disapointed when parents do not come. Some know that no one is on their way to visit, but the others that do arrive remind them of that. And even those whose parents come, they can't stay and the parent leaves once again. The cluster of emotional baggages spills over the afternoon. Its not uncommen to have kids acting out and differently around this percarious day. </div><div><br /></div><div>Its tough for the staff to watch the kids they care for to be hurt by people that in some cases have never cared or come and go from there lives on no particular basis. If not for this mysterious biological connection it seems some kids would be better off. I've been told that some of the kids that never knew their parents are the most well-adjusted kids at the mission. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of course it would be best for the parents to achieve a place where they could once again or for the first time provide a healthy and loving place for the child to be with them. But until that happens, the best place for them to be is here with these people I've mentioned and so many more. Its a privilage and an education to be here with them. </div>Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-63136973872419491552010-10-08T20:17:00.000-07:002010-10-08T20:32:59.858-07:00Photos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hQpz0b_I/AAAAAAAAAK8/j8KTQaURUss/s1600/PA070004.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hQpz0b_I/AAAAAAAAAK8/j8KTQaURUss/s400/PA070004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525882944024244210" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hQIT_faI/AAAAAAAAAK0/_WkH01M9ZUo/s1600/PA060013.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hQIT_faI/AAAAAAAAAK0/_WkH01M9ZUo/s400/PA060013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525882935032380834" /></a>1. Ninos playing soccer in the yard<div>2. Boys I drive to kinder</div><div>3. Celina, 2 year old we've been watching for a little bit</div><div>4. Dinner: toast and Jello</div><div>5. Celina and Vicky<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hP9BqUhI/AAAAAAAAAKs/W4h7WtZh61A/s1600/PA010009.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hP9BqUhI/AAAAAAAAAKs/W4h7WtZh61A/s400/PA010009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525882932002705938" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hPYFCK2I/AAAAAAAAAKk/BeaiKwDaxLI/s1600/P9300008.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hPYFCK2I/AAAAAAAAAKk/BeaiKwDaxLI/s400/P9300008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525882922084739938" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hPCd8q-I/AAAAAAAAAKc/9V1Hx_RRjg0/s1600/P9230002.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TK_hPCd8q-I/AAAAAAAAAKc/9V1Hx_RRjg0/s400/P9230002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525882916283657186" /></a><br /></div>Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-23999078456952059922010-09-26T21:16:00.000-07:002010-09-30T13:54:10.658-07:00A Bridge in Troubled Waters<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">As days have come and gone, one thing we don’t need them to bring is more rain!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Work has continued to be sporadic for me around the mission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When I don’t go into town to the church, I’ve been able to help out with other projects and needs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve been driving the kinder to school three days a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After devotions I’ll grab the Ur Van and bring it round where the kids are waiting in their uniforms and there house parents heard them onboard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ll work with the boys on the weekends or when they have days off from school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have cleared weeds, sanded furniture, moved cement and helped Ricardo with the vehicles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There is always something to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The work doesn’t just stop at the mission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The other day Ricardo asked if I would help “mow” at the kid’s school on a Saturday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We had no mower available to bring but we were going anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was surprised to see that there was a huge group of volunteers there already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All the parents come a couple times a year to handle the grounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was even more surprised when the school’s gate locked behind me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The school collects so many volunteers by taking role of who shows up and fining the parents that don’t show. Then, if you don’t pay, they’ll suspend your kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Once you’re there, they lock you in for as long as they need you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Feel free to suggest that to your local PTA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The mowing was actually sharp shovels and machetes hacking through the tall grass and weeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not the most efficient, but it got the job done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After a few hours they workers were gathered for announcements and arguing and then the gate was finally unlocked when everyone was sufficiently agitated and we were released.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Free at last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Between jobs, it has rained and rained a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The mountains around the valley are very steep and it doesn’t take long for the water to accumulate and start causing problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The drive to the mission is constantly flooded but we can usually get vehicles through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I accompanied Jill and Janelle and little Celina to Oaxaca to get things for the house and help carry things on a Sam’s Club run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a successful trip and we were on our way home when Ricardo called and asked if we were going to be able to get back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sure, sure, I’m sure we’ll have no problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We did have problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Shortly before Tlocelula traffic was backed up on account of bridge being party washed away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was an option of a three or four hour drive around through other mountain roads that have the potential for the same problem, so we decided to stay in town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We had hundreds of dollars of stuff from the store so we found a place that we could park inside and settled into an impromptu vacation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everyone was worried about us but we were living it up on the town, though the girls were stressing because they were afraid they wouldn’t be able to leave on their long planned trip back to the states for a visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> But t</span>he Holiday Inn was more than comfortable and I had my first worm shower since I arrived in Oaxaca.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Luckily we awoke to sunny skies and the bridge had been stabilized enough to let light traffic through on one lane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were on our way home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The traffic was backed up but it really didn’t take too long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Hopefully the rain holds off for now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If we get another squall like we’ve had the bridge might be completely wiped out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I seem to enjoy unforeseen hiccups like these that create a little adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was fun to get to know Jill and Janelle better, spend some time in town, and play with Celina who is two and will be staying with us while the girls are in Chicago, which they had no problem getting to their flight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Unfortunately, a little adventure for me was disaster for many people in the valley and the mountain villages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Towns are cut off, mudslides have knocked out homes and many fields and homes are flooded all over Oaxaca.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Hopefully, the weather continues to dry out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s easy to see a ripple effect of poverty when things like this happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The country and state don’t have the money to build decent infrastructure, which is easily upset, which hampers commerce leaving less money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The people can’t have nice houses in nice places which flood or crumble, taking up more resources to build again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some have said that it is unfair for these things to happen to poor people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It seems like they are poor because these things happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Of course that is an overly simple explanation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It just boggles my mind that I have lived such a prosperous and privileged life that I am unaffected by things like rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve created an environment so artificial that even the most basic natural processes bare little, if any, impact on my daily life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, but it seems significant, though I’m not quite sure how.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Maybe I’ll find out one day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-29762135633150658112010-09-20T22:18:00.000-07:002010-09-22T21:00:36.780-07:00Embrace the Dysfunction<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">So I’ve seemed to settle myself into life at the mission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve got my own room, which hasn’t happened since I’ve lived at home, but the boys come in and say hi and meander about scrounging food and hassling one another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At first glance they appear to be typical teenagers and are expected to be a somewhat responsible member of the family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The dynamic of which is an interesting production around here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Given their stories, I’d have imagined bundling so many broken hearts under one roof would spell disaster, but what I’ve found is a family of sorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Hard to see at first, it becomes easier if one applies the brilliant wisdom of my father, “Embrace the dysfunction.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To prove my father’s theory of happiness and stress-free living we’ll take another hike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I arrived the boys were on a break from school because of the independence holiday on the 16<sup>th</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One of the days they were off Pio, Jose and I went on a hike up the Sleeping Lady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>La Muchacha Duermio is a small mountain behind the mission that looks like a lady lying on her back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We headed across the grounds till we were into a neighboring cornfield, beyond a small creak and on the way up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We scrambled up some rocks then into a little gully where we followed a stream, hopping from rock to rock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was a path but we kept meandering from it, making things a little more difficult for ourselves than it had to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Each time we deviated from the path I thought we would be moving on from the trajectory only to return a couple steps later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then it dawned on me that Pio was leading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Pio is virtually blind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>His eyesight is like looking through waxed paper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He plays computer games with eyes inches from the screen and reads with his nose literally in the pages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was the blind leading the sighted, but even so we made it up to a beautiful waterfall and then eventually back safe and sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For my official duties I go into town with Habakuk, the new pastor to build the new church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So far we have been digging through concrete to sink new posts that will suspend the roof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The first day with sledge and crowbar in hand we cracked and smashed, swung and scraped some puny wholes that we would come back to finish the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I weakly suggested how much easier this would be with a jack hammer, to which Habakuk responded, “Yeah, we have one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We’ll bring it tomorrow.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>His response puzzled me, as I’m sure the look on my face puzzled him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It did seem odd and that we would spend time and energy doing what was going to be completed in another manner anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I told this story to my sister later that afternoon to which she said, “Welcome to Mexico Nick.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No further explanation was needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Wheedling the jackhammer was no walk in the park either, as it turned out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m sure our job is not to code.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I didn’t bother to ask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Tasks are accomplished not with speed or procedure but simply accomplished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Our operation doesn’t possess the means, manpower, or resources to worry about such luxuries, and I think they are just that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There is also dysfunction that can be embraced, but will not be tolerated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not surprisingly, cleanliness, or lack there of, is one such catalysis for punishment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My sister, on more than one occasion during my short stay to this point, has foolishly complained to me, her brother who is not very clean either, of her kids messy closets and dirty rooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Of course I’m shocked to hear that all ten teenage boys are not perfect housekeepers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After she vents to me there is a silent anticipation until the poor guilty child returns or is hunted down, conditions permitting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Worse than general filthiness, is malicious messiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On more than one occasion, one of the boys has booby-trapped another’s bed or shoes with dirty dishes, old food, or other readily available munitions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The culprit is easily weeded out by punishing the entire group for the offense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Nothing like a little social Darwinism to strengthen the bonds of brotherhood, but it works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The offender was given the choice of eating the festering food that was planted or relieving the victim of their chores for two weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The food must not have been this morning’s breakfast because the chores were more appealing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Finally, seeing as how there are ten boys and only two sets of eyes to watch them, they are expected to be where they know they should be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Case and point? Pio.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I went to the market after church with Ricardo, Pio, Fide, and Jose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The market was wonderful, beautiful sights and smells everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were interesting people and crafts, clothes, and wares.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We walked to the end and then bought what we needed on our way back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At one point, Pio was missing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Apparently partial blindness is no excuse, because he got a talking to when he was found.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finally we were finishing up and Pio was gone again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Hopefully he would be at the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He wasn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We left. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Its about 4 kilometers back to the mission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was assured he would be able to make his way back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To embrace the dysfunction is to cope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Embracing the dysfunction takes care of ten boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It feeds some sixty orphans three meals a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It triumphs over tantrums, injuries, disputes, and bad days, but at some point this wise and sound philosophy crumbles under its own inadequacies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is for profound and fundamentally dysfunctional homes and families that many of the kids are here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Many will carry it along with them for a lifetime, and its not that they have chosen to embrace it either. It was always there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Another adventure for me in another land with more interesting people is a struggle for these kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Every day is a new story of another kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to turn this post around, and it’s getting pretty late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We’ll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Oh, if you’re worried about Pio, he’s fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He walked cross-town to join up with his friends from the mission and the youth group where they were selling hamburgers to raise money for an event they are going to put on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When Ricardo and I picked them up the other boys sang songs in the van on the way home of how he would be in trouble when he got back to Andrea. </p> <!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-17743420993045267812010-09-15T21:56:00.000-07:002010-09-16T07:49:26.277-07:00Mexico City Photos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnDxuMHnI/AAAAAAAAAJs/GgboFnFZtXs/s1600/P9130011.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnDxuMHnI/AAAAAAAAAJs/GgboFnFZtXs/s400/P9130011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517374701834083954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnCXVTAJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/5Rv5Ko3KCdc/s1600/P9130009.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnCXVTAJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/5Rv5Ko3KCdc/s400/P9130009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517374677570486418" /></a>1. Inside Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral<div>2. Outside Cathedral in the Zocalo</div><div>3. Church in Tepoztlan</div><div>4. Aztec Pyramid</div><div>5. Happy Hiker<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnCIwWw1I/AAAAAAAAAJc/GCddWcYnoP0/s1600/P9110009.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnCIwWw1I/AAAAAAAAAJc/GCddWcYnoP0/s400/P9110009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517374673657447250" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnBYmzgeI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Q3tFQbL1zBQ/s1600/P9110004.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnBYmzgeI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Q3tFQbL1zBQ/s400/P9110004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517374660732486114" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnAWooAyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/sDwJAVqgbFc/s1600/P9110003.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/TJGnAWooAyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/sDwJAVqgbFc/s400/P9110003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517374643023381282" /></a></div>Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-74402589181548980502010-09-13T18:06:00.000-07:002010-09-15T21:56:19.509-07:00The Liturgy of Living in Tension<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">If you’ve kept up with the blog, then you know I’m not a city boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The romance of wilderness is far too appealing without the rapid pace and complication of business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yet I’m captivated by Mexico City.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The wonder of her architecture bears witness to the tangled web of culture that has exploded a massive population.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Built on the ruins of one of the largest indigenous settlements in the Americas, it is the center for religion, commerce, and politics in a country struggling to keep up with contemporary western powers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To walk her streets is to be enfolded into her story, but first; a hike!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Saturday I awoke to a bustling house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The baby awake, mom and dad were gathering different things they needed for a successful outing with a three-month-old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were all headed south of the city to the small town of Tepoztlan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a beautiful pueblo with a Saturday market and cobblestone streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We walked the market and grabbed a snack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then we moved through to the end of the town for a short hike into the surrounding mountains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It began with a series of stone steps lined with merchants peddling food and souvenirs, as this seemed to be a popular weekend hotspot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The trail was steep and we gained altitude rapidly shaded under heavy canopy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were all breathing heavily and taking lots of breaks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think the trail starts at about 5500 ft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was very muggy and the sweat ran freely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It felt like old times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>James had the baby and she seemed to like the hike or was asleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I felt honored to accompany the Kitchins on Isa’s first hike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We made it to the top where sat an Aztec pyramid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was very impressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A plaque said that some of the carvings dated to the 16<sup>th</sup> Century but the structure could very well be older.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We snapped pictures of the pyramid and the valley below then headed down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The baby fussed a bit but then slept most the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then we headed to the cantina for dinner and ordered a two-person entre that three of us could not finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What a wonderful hike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunday was church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We went to a house church in the city that the Kitchins attend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We all sat in a small yard and sang songs after just hanging for a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then, James, the missionary whose house we were at, gave a sermon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everything being in Spanish I struggle to follow along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was encouraged that I understood enough to turn to the 5<sup>th</sup> chapter of Matthew, and he spoke of all the different types of people that attended the Sermon on the Mount.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yet the message they received was a peace in which they could all participate despite their differences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And knowing the peace, they live in the tension of imperfection and redemption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We prayed and formally finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then the party started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The small church was celebrating a birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We ate very well and some danced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a blessed way to be in church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today I struck out on my own while the Kitchins were at work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I headed for the Zocalo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is the main town square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After successfully navigating the metro and one train change, I walked up from the subway into the square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You pop out directly in front of the Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is astounding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Taking up one whole side of the square, it’s intimidating in both size and grandeur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Its construction lingered for centuries from the small church immediately after the conquest of Tenochtitlan in the 16<sup>th</sup> century until after 1800.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some of the stones of the conquered Aztec temples were used in the construction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The rapid influx of Catholicism through violence to the area brings new meaning to the idea of baptism by fire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The building seems to encapsulate the reverence and majesty of its tradition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I can’t help but liken it, in my mind, to a head stone honoring the turbulent transition of the land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I do not envy the work of the Franciscan Monks whose task it was to reconcile the European force to the message of the Gospel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yet somehow they did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They orchestrated aqueducts from the mountains to native villages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Learned hundreds of native tongues and navigated a rugged mountain wilderness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The shear number of devout Catholics today testifies of their work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I walked in, removing my cap, as daily mass was in progress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The sound of raised voices echo in the massive chapel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I sat in wonder at the process until the priest administered the sacrament of communion and offered the benediction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All the while other tourists meandered and gazed, snapping pictures and whispering quietly to each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The parishioners filed out into the square, where, in a matter of days, the president would address the country for its 200<sup>th</sup> anniversary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Viva Mexico.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>From just across the square the nation’s leader pays tribute to the revolution from another country that brought them their faith from across the sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I arrived at the mission last night and spent today learning names and getting shone round the grounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My sister rapidly educated me on the boy’s different and compelling backgrounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Suddenly the tension of empire and conquest, religion and commerce, and history’s entire dramatic epic in Mexico now had a face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Their stories are beyond intimidating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What can I do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fortunately there are wonderful people who have already begun the work and stand by and bend and strain under the tension that pulls on these kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Hopefully I can learn their delicate and beautiful dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-38729464386394337122010-09-09T21:38:00.000-07:002010-09-13T18:06:07.244-07:00Now Turned and Facing Southern Skies<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It’s been almost one year to date from the time I lived afoot and free on the Pacific Crest Trail. Yet the memories of those days offer little satisfaction. Rather they have since stirred a need to be on the move once more. And so again I'll tempt fate for fortune to sing a new song, in a new place, with new friends, and find family in far off lands. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Trading in my boots for jet fuel, I've already more than doubled the distance of last summer's travels in the course of a couple weeks. If the trail had been an exercise in simplicity, modern international travel can be anything but. It begins, not with a single step, but with a series of web pages, ticket prices, invoices and emails only to be followed by buses, shuttles, boarder guards, airports and immigration officers. The excitement of what’s to come propels me beyond my frustrations and disdain for logistics, and somehow with broken Spanish, though by providence, I arrive via yet another shuttle in Mexico City. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">James picks me up at the shuttle station. He and his wife Lauren have lived in the city almost two years, teaching and going to school as well. The three of us attended Point Loma in San Diego. James and I lived in the dorm together and also for a time after graduation. It’s wonderful to be with them. Not only that, but the two of them have become three and I've eagerly anticipated meeting their baby girl. But first thing first, the shuttle station was near the north end of the city and James and Lauren live on the southern side. A simple cross-town cruise is out of the question in a city more than twice the size of New York. Furthermore, it’s dark and raining. The streets are not well lit or clearly marked, and two years is hardly enough time to memorize a grid that size. James and I had plenty of time to catch up. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The city is incredible. It’s not as bright as other big cities but the dim glow seems to stretch endlessly. As we pass here and there James speaks of sights and history that could keep you busy indefinitely. Ruins outside the city in all directions, mountain towns, cathedrals, and castles too. Eventually we made it to the Periferico, a freeway that surrounds the city. We took the upper deck, giving new meaning to the term "highway"; because it’s a four-lane parkway directly on top another. It was getting later. The traffic wasn't too bad and we made it home safe and sound. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I'm so excited to spend time with my friends this afternoon. They are working so I took some time to sit and write, walk around the neighborhood, and grab some coffee. Certainly there will be much more to come. I can't explain the excitement of traveling again. Hopefully everyone will enjoy coming along for the ride once more. Though this trip will be immeasurably different than the last, I go in the same spirit and love that has blessed my previous comings and goings. </span></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-84477752915756289722009-10-04T22:59:00.000-07:002009-10-07T22:02:16.587-07:00Its Always Sunny On Rainy Pass<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Stehekin was a wonderful stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wish I had more time to spend there but Canada beckoned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We set to leave on the early bus in the morning, and Kick, Annie (little jerry), and Buck all strategized to squeeze the maximum amount of sleep from the night, deciding to wake at the last possible moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They had become accustomed to operating in the final seconds of deadline and schedule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It made things exciting, but difficult at times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was no longer a problem however, because Canada seemed inevitable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were no longer any intimidating barriers or problem spots or major concerns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That which had been so far was now closer than ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I woke earlier than the others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wanted to enjoy a bit of the morning on the lake so I headed over to the lodge around six.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I took a booth in the restaurant with a view of the lake and ordered some breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was mind boggling to think that it would end soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I turned my mind to new projects and adventures that I could plan when I got home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I worried about being able to find a job and readjusting to a mainstream existence. Sleeping in a bed and eating whatever I wanted should not be a tough adjustment, yet I worried anyways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The bus ride back to the trailhead was filled with excitement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All of the other riders congratulated us on our having come so far and for being in a position to finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We stopped at the bakery again on the way out and we loaded up on muffins and cinnamon rolls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Our final breakfasts would be the most delicious of the trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Having caught the bus in a rush of activity, getting their boxes from the PO and then heading straight to the departing bus, the guys had to sort their food at the ranger station where the bus route ended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Once everything was in order we were on our way. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I took off a little faster than the others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wanted to get to Highway 20 as soon as possible because Mom and Dad were meeting me there with my final resupply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The trail meandered up a river canyon for almost the entire way and I took a short break at a cascading stream to eat my lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was warm and dry, a condition fairly unique to this section.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I noticed that the trail was at such a point on the Cascade divide that traveling on the eastern side of one mountain yielded dryer thorny shrub and long-needled pines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Traveling on the western side of the very next mountain would reveal dug firs and mushrooms, moss and greener vegetation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So excited I was to see my family, I had arrived over an hour early to Rainy Pass in record time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I had average just over three miles per hour including my breaks along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I eagerly awaited the arrival of my family and snacked on what I had left of the wonderful bakery stop earlier that morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As I went to walk around the parking lot of the trailhead and check for my folks Denise, Pamela and Brianna arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was wonderful to see them but I think I tainted the new-car-smell of Denise’s new ride by throwing my rucksack in the back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mom and Dad, Grandma and Uncle Tony followed a bit later and we all had a wonderful dinner in the Rainy Pass picnic area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kickstep, Little Jerry, and Buck followed a bit later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They still couldn’t believe, even after all the other family filled Washington stops, that my family kept coming out to the trail with wonderful goodies for us all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Buck felt like he was on a fully supported thru-hike now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then it started to get dark and family and friends departed so we retired to the other side of the highway to camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some rangers warned us about an aggressive bear that frequented the picnic area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So we pitched our tents close to one another for safety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Rangers were always good for some unwarranted worry or concern.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No bear ever bothered us. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the morning we all set out together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a pretty uneventful day of hiking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Of course, the scenery was amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We passed quite a few weekend warriors out for a good time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were a couple stops to explain our curious commitment to high mileage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The mountains here were steep and gravelly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were these wonderful trees that I forget the name of now, but Kick and Annie were excited about them because they also grew in Montana.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They are the only conifer to loose their needles and before doing so they turn a bright yellowy golden color.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We eventually made it to a lovely spring high in a bowl of one of the peaks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The water was ice cold and delicious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were to camp fairly early for this bunch so we took the opportunity to make a campfire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a lot of fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We rarely had time to relax in the evening so this was a treat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We all made dinner together then bedded down for the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A deer persisted to eat up all the grass I had peed on before going to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It kept me up for a while but I eventually found rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Next was the last full day of hiking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We wanted to put in a thirty so we would be in close position to hit the border the next day early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were some wonderful views that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We passed some long mule trains bringing supplies in for the coming deer-hunting season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They looked very pretty and rugged from a distant but very smelly up close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We also ran into Burney and Stacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was good to see them again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They were headed back to Harts Pass to get picked up by family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They had just hit the boarder then turned around to hike back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was excited for Stacy to be getting some much-needed rest soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They are both super nice and it was wonderful to share in the success of a common victory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Soon after our little reunion there was the final climb of the whole tail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It took us up to an unnamed mountaintop over 7000 ft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>From there it would be all down hill to the border.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were stopping however, at a small lake to camp for the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a wonderfully small lake and there was one other camper there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We said hi and then set camp a little ways away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He was an older gentleman and was content to sit on a rock and gaze upon the lake for the entire time we made camp and dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was weird to think this was the last time I would use my tent for some time, and I’m glad I put it up because we received a light sprinkle from some passing clouds during the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Buck had to put his shelter up quickly in the dark when it started to fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Kick and Annie never caught up to us that night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We assumed they stopped on the ridge and camped there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We rose a bit later in the morning than we had previously planned knowing they would take a bit to catch us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We all wanted to make it to Canada together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Shortly after packing up we heard a voice up the trail yelling, “Canada! Canada!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was Kick and Annie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Annie was so excited to being finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She was also excited because Kickstep had used their last evening on the trail to propose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a happy day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They had had such a trying hike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was definitely challenged on my journey but not like they were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sickness, injuries, and deadlines had made the trail very difficult on them both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But they had made it just the same, and now they had even happier things to look forward to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We closed the final seven miles quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The anticipation building and building until we ultimately laid eyes on the monument.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was rather meager, I thought, for such a grand trip, but it would certainly do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We took pictures and then signed the register.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then who would show up but Fred Laun?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He had hiked the eight or so miles in from Manning Park to see us finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not only that but he brought some chocolate and pretzels and a six-pack of beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’d imagine that no one else had ever had such a celebration at the border as we were having.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There we were, nine in the morning, toasting our success with a cold one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Eventually we had to reconcile ourselves to another 8 miles and a thousand foot climb just to top things off before reaching civilization.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we arrived at the trailhead Grandpa and Uncle Tony were waiting for us and shuttled us to the park for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Grandma and Mom were there in the store getting some food for everyone and missed our triumphant entry but it was just exciting to be done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I got a shower at the lodge and then we had another toast in the parking lot with the family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was sad to leave my friends but we had to get going back to the states.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And just like that the Pct was over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was almost startling how the end or even a goal can sneak up on you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Of course it was wonderful to be home and have a bed, good food, time to relax a bit, but the trail had provided a different kind of comfort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was almost a sense of security in its simplicity, in its community, in the lifestyle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>To some extent I found identity in what I was doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I found likeminded people and minds unlike I have ever encountered before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was relief in daily progress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was purpose in the challenges that the trail presents and shared experience endeared the other hikers to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The trail was special to me because of the people I met.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Well, I hope everyone enjoyed the blog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Thanks for taking an interest in my little trek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sorry for taking so long to wrap things up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think maybe I didn’t quite want it to end so I left the last page open as long as I could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All good things come to and end they say, but there will surely be other trips, other adventures and new people to meet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In the meantime I’m fortunate to have wonderful people around me now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’d encourage everyone to go adventure for their self, either for just the day or for the duration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Let no reservation anchor a restless spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">God bless.</p> <!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-80001364383566941362009-09-21T13:26:00.000-07:002009-09-25T11:19:01.735-07:00The Suiattle Scoot<span style="font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-USfont-family:";font-size:12.0pt;"> We woke up in Skykomish to a cloudy blustery day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>With the rain coming down none were excited about waiting around in the weather to hitch a ride so we put a call into the Dinsmores that live up the way and gave rides to hikers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was a little confusion about where and when to get picked up but it was eventually sorted and we made it to the trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It would be a long four-day trek to Stehekin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span> <p class="MsoNormal">We hit the trail, quickly becoming soaked as the rain began to fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Shortly along our way we ran into a south-bounding equestrian who’s treacherous adventure had preceded her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The story she confirmed to us was that she was taking her two horses around the washed-out section in the Glacier Mount Wilderness on the forest service detour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She had only been off her horse for less than a hundred yards when the trail gave way and her horses took a thousand foot fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She fell about 50 ft but was more or less okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her horses did not fair as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They choppered her out of there and retrieved her gear but the horses stayed as they were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I couldn’t believe she wanted to continue after something like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was the saddest story I’d heard on the trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were all concerned for her thinking of all the treacherous spots that we had just passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We spent the rest of the day hiking through the rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>The morning brought still more wet weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was colder too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We made it about six miles before we had had enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We all decided to pull up early by a small creek to wait out Mother Nature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a long and miserable day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was completely soaked; wet tent, wet sleeping bag and clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a cold soggy day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All in all, we would spend over twenty hours in our little shelters waiting for morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think I would have been warmer and generally happier if we had just hiked through it but I wanted to stay with the group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was encouraging to know that better weather was forecasted for the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All there was to do was to make a warm meal and curl up to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>When we got moving the next day we were all feeling the pressure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A short six-mile-day had left us far behind schedule and to make Stehekin at a decent hour we would have to move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Aside from being a little behind we had perhaps the most beautiful day of the trip to enjoy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The rain that had fallen on us the previous day and night had no chance to melt a thousand feet higher and when the clouds cleared from the rising sun we enjoyed a plethora of wonderful sights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As far as we could tell it was the first snow of the season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was only a light dusting but it was enough to brighten the surrounding peaks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Just beneath the snow level the foliage was changing color.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were breath-taking shades of reds, yellows and browns below the crystal clean white snow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were most excited for the blue sky and eagerly waited for the day to warm so we could dry our things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>Later in the day we decided to hike late, which I absolutely loath, so that we would be in better position to get in earlier to Stehekin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I had only hiked the one night out of Hikertown before meeting up with Kickstep, Annie and Buck 30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I always liked hiking early, getting my miles in, and then relaxing in camp for the evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But there I was, hiking into the darkness after nine pm, desperately searching for a suitable campsite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kickstep Annie and I lost heart early and settled for a mediocre spot and made camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Buck went only about 10 more minutes and found a very nice spot but we didn’t know that until morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was just glad to finally be going to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The next day had quite exciting potential.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>There was a certain potential for disaster the following day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We had to cover over 25 miles in order for the 3 0’clock Stehekin bus to be possible and it would be a 5000 + ft day of climbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On top of that we would also be crossing the infamous Suiattle River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is a long log crossing over a lot of fast moving glacial melt, impossible to climb out should some poor soul fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Many have advised not to walk but to scoot across the log for stability.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Annie was especially nervous, but she had made it this far and it was hard to think any of us could be stopped at this point in the journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>Before I continue I should probably tell a bit about Kick and Annie’s trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It differed greatly from my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They had started 3 weeks after I did on May 1<sup>st</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I suppose they had enjoyed half of the zero days of which I indulged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Annie had foot problems for most of the trail it sounded, and she had contracted Guardia at one point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They had been under the gun to finish so they could make it to her brothers wedding in Omaha the third week of September.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a tough way to thru-hike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There wasn’t much room for error.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>In any event, after a navigation error between some old, new and incomplete trails below Glacier Peak we were now dropping toward the mighty Suattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The error had cost us some time and we were meeting the river at the worst time, late in the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The glacier has had all day in the sun and the river would be running at its strongest when we arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Closing in on the sound of rushing water, we had to navigate an enormous wash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was obvious that the river would not be crossed at certain times of the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The entire valley floor had be uprooted by the river and countless logs had been scattered throughout the gravel wash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fortunately, like most things it seems, the river was all hype.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It could have been forded, but wanting to stay dry Buck 30 and I eventually found the right log and walked across without incident.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kick and Annie caught us while we were trying to locate the trail on the other side of the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Annie made an executive decision that they would both be scooting across the log on their butts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kick told us later that the conversation went like this, “I think we could walk across.”</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Annie replied calmly I’m sure, “If you walk across that log I’m breaking up with you!“ They both scooted to safety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The evening ended with more night hiking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Two nights in a row was rough but I really wanted to stay with the group so I bit the bullet and hiked into the night for the last time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We had not seen anyone outside of our little group through the whole wilderness area and then happened on some other backpackers in the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was very strange.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He was quite nice though, offering a flat spot right next to his tent, but not wanting to disturb more than we already had we chose another site near by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>In the morning we took off at a break-neck pace to catch the 3’oclock bus into Stehekin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kick and Annie were going to shoot for the 6pm bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Buck and I wanted to make it in time to hit the bakery we had been hearing so much about and have time to clean up in town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Stehekin was amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>High mountains shot right up out of the lake and it was littered with wonderfully old log homesteads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Because of the rain delay earlier in the week we were getting to the bus with little food and huge appetites.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All we could think about was the Bakery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After confirming its hours and that it was still opened we eagerly climbed aboard the bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We quickly grew frustrated when the bus did not leave immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were a number of other on the bus and Buck was becoming outraged when everyone wanted to stop at the waterfall for pictures, the old school house for a look, dropping people off at the Ranch Resort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were pulling our hair out by the time we got to that bakery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>WE finally arrived and they had everything we needed; pizza, cinnamon rolls, muffins and cookies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The bus finally made it down to the lodge and we went over to the public bath for showers and laundry while we waited for Kick and Annie to come in on the next bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As if the bakery were not enough we had dinner at the Lodge before retiring to the campground down the street for the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>It was hard to fathom that there was only one section left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a mixed emotional paradox.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was an excitement to finish such a lofty goal but at the same time it was sad to think that such adventure could end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were all pleased to hear that the weather should not be a problem through to Canada.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Canada, I don’t think I had ever considered the possibility of actually getting there until it was the only objective left to reach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My thoughts quickly turned to other adventures that would come along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I thought Stehekin would be a really nice place to bring a canoe or if I could find other places further away that would be like it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I thought about the friends I had made and wondered how much we would stay in touch or what their next adventure would be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Still there was another section to complete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No need to get all sappy just yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I guess there is an appropriate time for such things but it would have to wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For now I would just concentrate on savoring the last days. </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </span><!--EndFragment-->Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-20252187453898509832009-09-05T22:17:00.000-07:002009-09-05T22:49:05.657-07:00Back in the BackyardWe left I-90 in the afternoon. There were wildfires burning in the next section so we were taking an alternate route that would take us around the hot spots. Starting from the Alpental trailhead, we started up a sharp but short climb to Snow Lake. It was a pretty popular spot, and as it was a beautiful day, there were plenty of poeple out. The nicely groomed trail quickly gave way a few miles beyond the lake to a rugged steep brush covered path. The alternate was to shave a few miles but the nature of the trail probably evened things out timing wise. Our goal was about 10 miles and when we arive we made camp. It would be a long night.<br /><br />I fell asleep after a quick dinner and slept for a few hours. I was awakened by a strong rain against the tent and if that hadn't rousted the others the following thunder certainly did. It was quite the storm. What it lacked in wind it made up for in sheer volume. I could feel the thunder in my chest. It was rather startling. After a sky splitting explosion, I thought it was the very loudest thunder I had ever heard, only to be proven wrong by the following blast. When I opened my eyes the tent repeatedly lit up with the flash of lightning. They were so close together it was impossible to count the seconds between the flash and the thunder, but it was aparent that the storm couldn't get any closer. <br /><br />The morning finally came and the rain subsided. We packed up our soggy tents and complained of the extra weight we had to carry now that things were saturated. We put in about 24 miles and made it back to the PCT. We all were thankful to be back on good tread. It was pretty uneventful hiking. It was raining most of the morning and we were rather soaked. Luckily when we joined the PCT some other hikers had stopped for the day and had a fire going. It was a lovely surprise and a nice little break before moving on. Near the end of the day we found ourselves in the middle of a climb and couldn't camp exactly when we wanted to. I've been hiking later into the evening with Buck, Kickstep and Annie so I get a little cranky when camping cannot be found and the day stretches toward 8. <br /><br />We wanted to wake early and get a good start, but it was a rather cold morning and we all lingered in our tents before making our move to the trail. It was a nicer day from the start and we dried our things at lunch. There were some nice climbs. 2000 ft took us over a ridge and we came out with a nice view of Glacier Peak. We'd camp within 8 miles of the pass at a lake. It would be another rainy night.<br /><br />In the morning it was not raining while I ate breakfast but when I went to get out of the tent of course the drops started to fall. That made packing up a very quick operation and we were soon on our way. More climbing and Buck 30 and I had broken away from the couple. Dad was at the pass with the BBQ so we didn't take any breaks on our way to the trailhead. It was funny being back at Stevens Pass. The trail follows the chairlifts up the backside of the resort and everything was familiar to me. I told buck about a bunch of trips up to the resort and where we would go; the cat tracks and shoots and diamond runs as if he cared. Up and over the last ridge, right next to the Tye Mill chairlift, we quickly made our way down and ran into Uncle Tony as he was coming up the trail to meet us. Then my cousin Josh came around the corner and we all walked down together. There were a bunch of people there to great us. Dad had the BBQ going just like he said and we ate to our hearts content. <br /><br />It was fun to see everyone. After all the festivities we made our way into Skykomish and found a hostel type place to relax and dry out. I can't believe this is our second to last town stop. We'll get to Stihekan in about 4 days and then its only another four into the boarder. Somehow, even after the whole summer and all the miles, I'm quite surprised to be this close. I don't know how a goal that I've had my eye one for more than a year could sneak up on me, but it did. I'm sure it will be all over all too soon. I'm taking every opportunity to enjoy the time I have left and I'm glad I've made some good friends in Buck 30, Kickstep, and Annie to share it with.Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-90346082081160521372009-09-02T09:43:00.000-07:002009-09-02T10:51:17.764-07:00The Dude AbidesFinally into the final state, my spirits lifted and I hiked with a new confidence that I might actually, truly reach the Canadian boarder. The beginning of the WA trail was a slow and steady climb through some clear cuts and under power lines. The only real scenery was a look back down the Columbia River Gorge behind. <br /><br />I soon caught Steve and Bethany, a couple whom had past Uncle Tony and me a couple days ago. They are both teachers and have taught across the country at different intervals which allow them to travel and participate in a number of trip and adventures between teaching gigs. Steve is a tall slender dude with a billowing low baritone voice. He grew up in South America and has wonderful stories of the people and culture of his youth. Bethany is a soft faced young women with dark hair and a warm personable presence. She's from Seattle and it sounds as if they will end up there after the hike. I really enjoyed hiking with these two. The seem to have a wonderful passion for living well and with an intention and purpose. The are both vegan so it is always interesting to see what they have for dinner. Their main staple is an Andean grain called quinwa that is high in calorie and a good source of protein. We eventually linked up with I Spy and Booty, and it became for me, a first rate education in relationships on the trail. Both couples worked wonderfully together. By now there was a system and procedure in place for cooking meals and setting up camp. Would be nice to have someone to share the work and help motivate a hiker out here. They sure brought a unique perspective to the idea of dating or marriage. It really doesn't seem too bad if you can get out and go places like these couples were doing. <br /><br />So close to the end now, we all talked of other trips and hikes we would like to do. There are marathons to be attempted and triathlons to train for. Much research is needed in the areas of the Idaho Centennial Trail, paddling the Inside Passage, or trekking abroad in other countries. I exchanged contact info with Steve and Bethany in hopes of doing some cycling and running together in Seattle after the trail. They are getting off at I-90 to attend Bumper Shoot so I'll be finishing a few days before they'll get done. <br /><br />We all hiked together through the Goat Rock Wilderness south of White Pass. We also saw Buck 30 and Kickstep and Annie as well. It was a challenging section with wonderful views of Rainier in the distance. We saw mountain goats and elk. The great weather and beautiful sunsets made it the most scenic area yet, I think. There was a great section, trekking on the top of a "knife blade", that is the top of a very slender ridge. It was near the end of the day and we were all trying to get off of it before dark. Booty, I Spy and I made it a little more difficult by taking the stock trail around a steep section. It only added a bit of distance and about 800 ft of climbing but we had amazing views atop of Old Snowy Mountain. Anyhow, we all made it safely off and then took off for White Pass in the morning. <br /><br />I tried to be up and moving early but I never caught Buck 30. He is a wild man on town days, trying to get in as early as possible. I made it to the small store and gas station around 12:30, a good hour after Buck. Dad was there waiting for me with the resupply. Its so much fun to see family on the trail. Eventually all the couples made it into the store and we hung out eating the fried deli food in the gas station for the afternoon. There was laundry there too so that was a plus, but the only shower was a hose behind the station. I made it work. Unfortunately I Spy and Booty didn't receive their resupply box so when dad was leaving he gave them a ride to I-5 and they were going to hitch back to Cascade Locks for a trail days weekend. I was bummed to not be hiking with them anymore but we vowed to stay in touch. We all left the store around 6 and hiked in 3 miles to camp at a lake. Since it was a short trek to camp Kickstep packed in a 6-pack and we all enjoyed a cold one at dinner. <br /><br />In the morning I was up and going early. I wanted to get thirty in so it would be a short hike to the cabin the next day. I was again saddened to leave Steve and Bethany behind because they were drawing out their hike to Snoqualmie, getting picked up on Wednesday the day after we would be getting, so they could get to Bumper Shoot. I saw a ton of elk that morning but it was impossible to get a picture through all the underbrush. I hope I can eventually get a good picture of the massive beasts. I hiked most of the day alone and got my thirty in. The next day I took my time making miles as I was only trying for 20. There was a cabin built by a snowmobile club that we wanted to stay at. It was on the edge a the very beautiful Government Meadows, called Camp Urich. I got in at about 4:30 and waited for my friends. Avo showed up. I thought he was ahead of us but he had taken a zero and was now catching up. Buck, Kickstep and Annie followed shortly and we all had a nice evening in the cabin with some dinner and hot chocolate. <br /><br />First to get going in the morning again I spooked yet another heard of elk just beyond the meadow. Still, in the dim lighting and with all the brush I could not get a decent picture. They are quite stealthy as they move slowly through the forest grazing on branch and limb but when they are spooked they move through the undergrowth with all the grace and silence of a boulder crashing through the trees. Its quite startling when they decide to up and go. I ended up hiking a few miles extra that day on account of not finding suitable camping. I was able to get a cell signal and catch the folks to let them know what time I would be into Snoqualmie the next day. Then finally I made camp just before dark at Stirrup Creek. Town in the morning.<br /><br />Up even earlier with the excitement of family and town, I set off to close the 13 mile gap. I hiked quickly through a foggy and damp forest. Clouds moved through the trees as I went up and down over the ridges. It was very muggy for how cool it was and the moisture just clung to my cloths and pack. About halfway there I spotted a wonderful sight. It one of the prettiest features that nature cannot produce, a small white styrofoam cooler. It had a trail register with it so I signed in and looked inside. There were a few sodas. I took a 5 and drank one down before continuing. Coming over the last rise to the ski resort I looked down to the highway below and left the trail to make a B-line for the Summit Inn where we all decided we would stay. Buck caught me right at the bottom of the slope and we made haste to check in. Shortly after getting showered I got a call from Grandma and Grandpa who had come to visit. After that the welcoming committee continued to pull in through the last of the morning. Mom and Dad were there. My friend Mike and Carol and Cousin Dana came. Grandma and Grandpa Rogers came and even Uncle Tony had recovered to come and visit again. Even our friend Kelly came from the Stanwood/ Camano paper to ask me questions for an article. <em>Yeah, I'm gonna be famous</em>. It was quite the party. <br /><br />We all went down the road to a little picnic area to have lunch and hang out. It was so much fun to see everyone and they all brought wonderful food to enjoy. Its already so nice to be close to family again. We spent the rest of the afternoon together but eventually everyone had to make the drive home. After goodbyes I headed back to the room to start relaxing. <br /><br />I really enjoy hiking with Buck and Kickstep and Annie. We are trying to make plans that will finish out the trail together. I'm getting excited to be finishing up soon. I have been nervous about reentering society and looking for work, but with the folks I have met on trail I've gained a confidence that I know things will work out. Whatever happens or whatever I end up doing I know I'll be happy. However you what to say it, "come what may", "thou mayst", or " the Dude abides", the details in life don't matter but the people they associate with do. Plus its more fun not knowing whats around the corner all the time.Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-54652376402503529902009-09-01T22:37:00.000-07:002009-09-01T23:20:54.533-07:00Oregon I Bearly Knew YouAfter breakfast I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">yogied</span> a hitch out of Sister after a bit of doing. No one was stopping after a fun weekend in the mountains, so I headed across the street to just ask for a ride at the gas station. There was a prime candidate fueling up. It was an SUV with a kayaks on tops. When I ask if he was headed over the pass to the PCT, he pointed out his two boys in the back seat and said there was no room. I told him briefly I was just trying to continue my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">thru</span>-hike of the PCT and then I went back across the street to spring my trap. To leave the gas station they would have to pull up to the intersection facing me and then turn left across traffic to pass directly in front of me, so I waited. When they pulled out I put on my most desperate and pathetic, needy face but all while managing a meager smile and hoped. Sure enough, after turning they pulled onto the shoulder and said, " Ah we can make room." I was very grateful and we enjoyed a delightful round of Q and A regarding my trip during the ride up the pass. <br /><br />Happily on my way again, I made great time passing many a day-hiker and the weekend warriors making their way back to the trail head after their weekend wilderness adventure. I was sad to be leaving Hop Skip but I knew I would be catching I Spy and Booty soon. At the end of the day I met Doug, a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">thru</span>-hiker from the east coast and an AT vet. He kept a brisk pace and we made it to camp early. We hiked together for a few days and made good time. We constantly quoted Monte Python to entertain ourselves and fantasized about the glorious breakfast that awaited us at our next stop, Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood. I was particularly excited to get to the lodge because my grandma and grandpa were dropping off my Uncle Tony who would be hiking with me to the WA boarder. The section was mostly uneventful. The only excitement were three black bear encounters. One I didn't exactly see, but he was close. I could hear him moving through the brush away from me. The other two times the bears were also quick to run away. <br /><br />The day before we were to get to Timberline, Doug and I were determined to get as close to the lodge as possible before making camp. We ended up hiking my longest day yet of 39 miles. I was exhausted but we were only 5 miles out. The next morning we were up and at it early. There was a steep climb up the south slope of Mount Hood and it would have been even shorter to the lodge but there was a huge ravine that had to be hiked up and around and then back down to the lodge. We were there before breakfast was even being served and we were first in line to get some. It was quite a feast. There was fresh squeezed orange juice, waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, the works. We sat and ate several helpings a piece and finished by the time the family drove up. <br /><br />After the long day before, I was looking forward to hiking with my uncle and scaling back the mileage for a bit. The trail just skirts around Mount Hood with great views of Mount Jefferson from which I had just hiked. We put in about 10 miles after breakfast and made camp. The next two days were a cool 15 miles a piece and we took a recommended alternate route to the Columbia down Eagle Creek. It was a gorgeous trail. It followed the creek as it winds toward the mighty Columbia but it was on a ledge for a bit of the time, high above the running water below. There were wonderful waterfalls, even one you could walk behind. When we got to the trail head <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wolfman</span> was waiting there for some hikers. He was hoping another <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">thru</span>-hiker could take him up to a trail and then slack his car back to the trail head. Tony wasn't to excited about the final 3 miles into the town of Cascade Locks so he drove him up there and then when the folks got into town, they were able to grab him from the trail head after the car was back. Then we were finally at the Bridge of the Gods. <br /><br />The Bridge of the Gods is the bridge from Cascade Locks into Stevenson, crossing into the last state of the trip. It was a huge milestone, but there were other reasons to be happy to be so far. My friends Zach and Rachel that live in Gresham were able to come out to visit and Marc and Nicole even made the drive down from Seattle. Its been amazing to make new friends on the trail but it is very special to have old friends come out to visit. We had a great time in town. We swam in the Columbia and then had dinner at the Walking Man brewery in Stevenson. We spent the night back across the river in Cascade Locks. I couldn't believe that after spending three months in California, Oregon was over in a matter of weeks. The next morning we had breakfast and then in was back to the trail. Dad slacked my pack across the bridge and we walked together back into the home state.Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-49577926763665527482009-08-15T20:09:00.001-07:002009-08-16T07:04:29.664-07:00Oh the PossibilitiesSo Mom, Dad and Andrea dropped me off at Mazama Campground where I had left off and started the long drive home. I missed them immediately. As I've said before, its the miles just following a visit from a loved one that can be the toughest. Being so close to the finish does make it a little easier. Even though its been a bit colder in Oregon I feel a little more comfortable now that I'm back in the Northwest.<br /><br />That afternoon I made the quick climb from the campground to Crater Lake's south rim. As I made my way through the trees, I noticed a rather large deer grazing in a small meadow. Just as it was noticed, its head snapped to attention upon my arrival. It quickly turned and sped up the slope through the underbrush and as it did I realized it was not a deer at all. It was quite obviously a cow elk. Furthermore, as it retreated, though they were not seen through the thick forest foliage, the sound of many more of its friends could be herd charging up the same hill. Hard to tell just how many there were, but I would guess it to be about a dozen from the mighty rumble the stampede made.<br /><br />We had just completed a full drive around the lake with the family but to walk up over the rim into plain view of such a massive watery expanse was incredible. I'm not sure if its allowed but I made a nice camp on the crux of the rim. I made an effort to hide myself in the shelter of a few trees just in case some overzealous rangers were working late. After a few pictures I bedded down for the night, sure to be up in time for sunrise the next morning.<br /><br />Camped on the southwestern side of the rim the sun rose directly across the Lake to me. Sleeping a bit through my alarm, I awoke to the sky already bright with an orange horizon, slowly dulling as the sphere rose higher from the dawn. The far rim of the lake hung silhouetted against the oncoming glow and its waters below a deep and chilly blue. I took my time breaking camp and didn't get hiking until the last of the morning's performance was over.<br /><br />The miles went quickly as I dropped elevation from the tall rim. Though the next section to Willamette Pass was quite level, as far as PCT miles are concerned, they would prove to be rather treacherous in their own right. The trail to highway 58 connects countless small lakes and ponds. Mosquitoes by the swarms stalked one's every move. The miles accumulated quickly because breaks were cut rather short on account of being so molested by the tiny vampires. It was easiest to just keep moving. On my own again, I set my own pace and schedule. I found that I enjoyed waking early and hiking in three hour increments. Most three hour stints took me just shy of ten miles and with one morning break I could have as many as 17 or 18 mile in by the time I broke for lunch. A somewhat arduous morning pace was rewarded by a leisurely evening with time even for a bit of reading. I'm embarrassed to say that I've been carrying the same novel since Kennedy meadows, some two months ago. With the miles flying by, I quickly found myself near Willamette Pass where I put into Shelter Cove Resort for some food and showers that came at a resort price but I got something even better for free; Friends!<br /><br />Shelter Cove was a nice little resting spot. It was right on the west shore of the grand Odell Lake near the top of the pass. As I sat sorting my newly washed clothes and stuffing my rucksack with food another hiker strolled into the resort. The kid had style. Sporting an oil slicked felt hat with a few feathers in the band, bandanna around the neck but falling to the side over the shoulder, he had custom wooden trekking polls with leather handle straps and wore his sheet of bug netting around his waist like a sash to pull his pack tight against his back. His name was Cody and he had put on to the trail at Crater Lake and was section hiking up to Portland where he is from. Cody impressed me and inspired me. I came to find out that along with his custom trekking polls he also sewed and stitched the pack he carried along with his tarp tent that doubles as a poncho. I wish I could be that handy and have resolved myself to becoming so. I was delighted that we would be hiking on together for the next few days.<br /><br />We left the resort late that afternoon and made it about 7 miles beyond the pass to a cabin shelter maintained by the forest service. We took up camp there for the night and shared it with some other Oregon section hikers. There was Mace, Gwen Bug, and Wildman all of whom were delightful company. Later just before we were turning in I Spy and Booty came in to join us. They are a young couple from Colorado and are hiking on through to Canada as well. I've had a ton of fun hiking with these three. Great conversation, joking, and new lives and personalities to learn about make for really pleasant miles. After the cabin we were spread out along the trail the next day and camped in various spots. I was up early the next day and being a little low on food, I put into Elks Lake Resort for a meal and a few snacks. I made the 8 miles by a little after 8 a.m. The only problem was that the restaurant didn't open until ten. It started to rain so I wasn't going anywhere and I took up refuge on their deck under canopy. With my rarely read novel in hand, I was ready to wait them out.<br /><br />I didn't get too far into the pages before Billy Goat sauntered up to the Deck. He had just beat the heaviest of the rain. I had run into Billy Goat a number of times on my trip. He jumps from section to section and, as I learned, hikes pretty much year round. At 70 years of age he bookends the age spectrum and is quite the trail celebrity. An article about him was front page of the LA Times at one point and every hiker knows him. I reintroduced myself to him and we chatted until the diner finally opened. As it did and we took our seats Cody, I Spy and Booty arrived and we all enjoyed a delicious meal out of the rain. With a gloomy day in progress we took our time leaving and only made 15 or so more miles that day. We all camped together at a small lake and took off at different intervals in the morning. I made my way out to the front of the pack but it wouldn't be that last time I would see them.<br /><br />That day I was headed for Big Lake Youth Camp on the other side of highway 242. It was about 28 miles away and I wanted to get there for dinner so I wasn't wasting any time. Even at a brisk pace I had to stop frequently to take pictures of such a unique and impressive landscape. We were passing the Three Sisters mountain peaks. We couldn't exactly see the peaks for they were obscured by clouds but beneath them lay a vast and treacherous volcanic landscape. Huge fields of volcanic rock stretch down toward the valleys below. They reach for miles until the forest finally bleeds onto the rocky soil. Uphill from the trail not a single shrub rises from the rugged and solid formations. I couldn't help but think of the massive forces lurking below that could have created such an amazing scene. Though the volcanic mountains of the Cascade Range are barely half the height of the mighty Sierra Nevada, they posses a power, an intimidation that the Sierra lack. Walking over the sharp pumice and obsidian rock I wondered what manor of plant or animal lies berried beneath and how many times such violence has come to pass in the lifetime of these mountains. It is very much a beautiful danger but a danger none the less.<br /><br />Through the ever present geological danger, I managed to navigate the lava fields and arrive at the youth camp safely before dinner was served. The staff set me up with a visitors pass and I was able to get showered and wash my clothes. Unfortunately my resupply box did not arrive so I arranged for it to be intercepted in the Town of Sisters and I would pick it up there the next day. Cody, I Spy and Booty never caught me that day. They had either pulled up early or hitched to Sisters from the closer highway. I had dinner amidst a mass of campers in a very loud and very crowded mess hall. There were a couple other hikers there too. Donuts, a young man just out of college from Puyallup as well as Easy Rider and Snow Berry, two section hikers from Oregon finishing their home state.<br /><br />The next morning I was up early again and closed the 6 mile gap to Highway 20 by 7:15 am. The cars were moving rather quickly, probably on their morning commute to Bend, but I did manage a hitch without much of a wait. Dan was on his way into Sisters to see about a pair of kayaks he was looking to buy and stopped to help me into town. He was super nice and very impressed with my hike. The excitement people have for the trip is very different in the Northwest than in California. Californians seemed to be amazed at the entire feat in general, while Northwesterners seem to be excited at the prospect of one day doing it themselves. It was fun to talk about outdoorsy exploits. He is a transplant to Oregon from Vermont if I remember right. He had hiked some of the AT but enjoyed the west coast much more. He dropped me in town at the best breakfast spot where I was reunited to Cody who was now Hop Skip for he sometimes jovially skips and bounces on some of the downhills. Sure enough the three of them had hitched into town from the 242 where I had had lunch the day before. Cody was staying in town another night so decided to stay too after my box did not arrive in town either. I spent the day resupplying at the super market and filling my body with calories; pizza, soda, hot fudge sundae. I Spy and Booty left around noon and Easy Rider and Snow Berry arrived and share the room with us because the place was booked up otherwise.<br /><br />I'll make tracks in the morning after breakfast. The next stop is Timberline Lodge where I'll be meeting my uncle who is hiking to Cascade Locks with me. I can't wait to see him and I'm so excited to be so close to the final state of the trip. Oregon has been wonderful. The trail has been great. The people have been amazing and the weather has held off for the most part. Its a little scary because my mind has been wandering lately, thinking of other trips that may be exciting and skills that I would like to learn. The trip has become an exercises in possibility. But possibilities are nothing really, neither possible or impossible until they are reached for with bold attempts. Whether these will bring success or failure is not known but hardly important. For they will inevitably bring stories, experience or better yet; relationship.Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-20224267486391879112009-08-09T12:39:00.000-07:002009-08-09T17:32:47.431-07:00Into Oregon<span style="font-size:100%;">We had a bit of trouble leaving Etna. Ther isn't a large commuter pool in a town of 700, but we were finally saved by the Mayor of Etna himself. He was just on his way up to the summit to get away from all the stresses of civil administration, and after a very winding and steep twelve mile drive we were back on the trail in the heat of the afternoon.</span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Wild Child and I quickly left Atlas behind.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> He hikes at a slower pace do to his unique walking stick.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> A gymnast in real life, he ducked taped two four foot sticks of rebar to keep his arms in shape, but the stick must weigh 15 lbs.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> The two of us pulled up at a lake about 12 mil</span>es along.<span style=""> </span>We made dinner and then Atlas caught us in time to go for a swim before bed.<span style=""> </span>It’s always nice to go for a dip before crawling into your sleeping bag.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">The next day we passed a number of people on horseback with pack mules.<span style=""> </span>They’re always interesting to see but the animals take a toll on the trail.<span style=""> </span>One man, by the name of Bronze, had a pack mule and was using only equipment available to backcountry travelers in the 1800s.<span style=""> </span>He had wool blanket bedding, buckskin trousers, wooden framed stock saddle, and only moccasins to protect his feet from the trail.<span style=""> </span>He said it is a trough way to travel as anyone could imagine but he was enjoying the experience and he was only going from the Oregon border to Big Bear.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></p> The following day was spent losing a lot of altitude and a gaining a lot of heat.<span style=""> </span>It was a long decent down to the Klamath River just a bit over 1000 ft and well over 100 degrees.<span style=""> </span>There was a long road walk to the store and the post office once the trail came to the bottom of the valley.<span style=""> </span>I passed a few old country houses with barn and garden out front.<span style=""> </span>The property around one such house retained a strong and interesting fragrance about their vegetable garden that seems to be very prevalent in some of the rural mountain communities the trail passes through.<span style=""> </span>Along the highway there were countless black berry bushes growing into the lanes and other hikers reported seeing a black bear enjoying them right from the road.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t see any bears but I did see the largest four point buck I’d ever seen on the walk into town.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9MhT6l0LI/AAAAAAAAAHo/n_Nby2VlpKs/s1600-h/PCT+O9+089.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9MhT6l0LI/AAAAAAAAAHo/n_Nby2VlpKs/s320/PCT+O9+089.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368093416014336178" border="0" /></a>Beautiful Mt. Shasta<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The town of Seiad Valley consists of only a few houses and a café, small store, and post office all in the same building.<span style=""> </span>Seiad is home to the famed pancake challenge.<span style=""> </span>I knew I had made the right decision not to partake when I saw Atlas attempt the feat.<span style=""> </span>It is five one pound pancakes, and most thru-hikers can barely eat half the stack.<span style=""> </span>It was terribly hot and we all took refuge from the heat at the RV park next door that let us use their showers and sit inside their office with our ice-cream from the store.<span style=""> </span>We decided to not start the 5000 ft climb out of the valley until 7pm.<span style=""> </span>Unfortunately it was still almost 100 degrees when we left but as we gained in altitude we reached a light breeze and conditions quickly became manageable at the very least.<span style=""> </span>I had left Seiad with Too Obtuse and Buck Thirty.<span style=""> </span>We had a good time giving each other a hard time about just about everything.<span style=""> </span>Obtuse is a veteran of the AT from New Hampshire and had hiked the PCT in 04 with $1.30.<span style=""> </span>I quickly became familiar with personalities of the 04 hike from the many stories they reminisced over.<span style=""> </span>$1.30 grew up in Rochester but was now living Pacific Beach just a few minutes’ drive from where I had been living in Ocean beach.<span style=""> </span>We spent hours talking of all the places we missed around San Diego and, I think, drove Obtuse to a desperate boredom of our conversation.<span style=""> </span>It was a relatively short hike into Ashland from there.<span style=""> </span>The second day out of Seiad we finally left the confines of the great state of California.<span style=""> </span>The trail had stretched and meandered for almost 1700 miles in this, the first state on the trip and the cross into Oregon was a great relief, making us feel as if we could very well make it into Canada after all.<span style=""> </span>Our high spirits were quickly tested however, as a violent thunder and lightning storm welcomed us to Oregon on our first night in the state.<span style=""> </span>Just as we had made camp and climbed in our tents it began to rain.<span style=""> </span>The thunder grew louder and louder and at a point there were lightning flashes every few seconds.<span style=""> </span>The rain turned to hail that quickly grew to the size of marbles.<span style=""> </span>Luckily the tent held its ground and I stayed warm and dry, but I didn’t sleep particularly well.</div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9Mg90JRPI/AAAAAAAAAHg/-y069W3I8Y0/s1600-h/PCT+O9+125.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9Mg90JRPI/AAAAAAAAAHg/-y069W3I8Y0/s320/PCT+O9+125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368093410081719538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: center;">Headed toward Oregon and then on to Washington.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9lcP25s5I/AAAAAAAAAHw/pjQYIvnavQg/s1600-h/101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9lcP25s5I/AAAAAAAAAHw/pjQYIvnavQg/s320/101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368120816816468882" border="0" /></a>Nick and Too Obtuse<br /><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">It was a pleasant and uneventful trek into Ashland.<span style=""> </span>We were fortunate to get a hitch right away.<span style=""> </span>Thomas picked us up in his Toyota pickup and was more than helpful with explaining the layout of his fine town.<span style=""> </span>He was a free spirit in transition, moving from the large metropolises of downtown Ashland a few miles away to the house he had just completed in the hills surrounding the town.<span style=""> </span>Ashland did feel like a larger city after the last two town stops could not muster more than 1000 residence in the both of them combined.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>We ate lots of food and watched Blazing Saddles on cable in the motel.<span style=""> </span>At the library we met Chuck Norris and Tigger, two PCT hikers that were taking turns hiking the trail this year and giving rides and help to other hikers in town.<span style=""> </span>We got a ride to the trailhead from them the following day.<span style=""> </span>Every hikers they meet signs their van, so we all made our mark and then made our way up the trail. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I was anxious to make miles, because my parents would be meeting me at Crater Lake so the family could go to a wedding in Salem.<span style=""> </span>Dad had been able to make the drive all the way to Lone Pine for a short visit but the fam had not been together for a long time and I had been missing my mom and sister quite a bit, plus weddings are always good for some tasty chow and dancing.<span style=""> </span>The day we left Ashland we pushed it to Hyatt Lake 25 miles away and took advantage of good camping and showers before turning in.<span style=""> </span>The next day we were up early and I put in the longest day yet.<span style=""> </span>Trying to get in as early as possible in the day that I was meeting mom and dad, I put in 35 miles.<span style=""> </span>The plan was to make another 35 the following day but I was ready to shut things down after 30 which left 15 to Crater Lake the following day.<span style=""> </span>I made it to Crater a little after noon and met the folks.<span style=""> </span>It was so nice to see them and after getting cleaned up and a bite to eat we headed for the wedding.<span style=""> </span>It was nice to see Andrea, my sister up from Mexico to fulfill her duties as Maid of Honor.<span style=""> </span>It was weird putting on some nice slacks and a clean shirt for the wedding.<span style=""> </span>I even shaved my dirty facial hair off to complete the look of a normal person who might live in an actual house or have a job.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9lcha5pqI/AAAAAAAAAH4/i1WxXHI6InI/s1600-h/128.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9lcha5pqI/AAAAAAAAAH4/i1WxXHI6InI/s320/128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368120821530863266" border="0" /></a>Hanging Out at the Wedding.<br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I had a lot of fun at the wedding and driving around Oregon with the family.<span style=""> </span>I’m excited to keep hiking now that I’m on through to the second state in the trip.<span style=""> </span>I know I still have about 900 mile left but it really feels like I’m getting close.<span style=""> </span>I’ve had a couple days off so I’m curious to see who will be hiking around me this time and if I can catch up to my friends.<span style=""> </span>I’ll be so excited to continue some high mileage and get into the home state.<span style=""> </span>Hopefully the weather will hold for us and we won’t hit too much rain.<span style=""> </span>The towns start getting a little more spread out from here.<span style=""> </span>Just a few more stops till WA and then there are only five more resupply stops till Manning Park BC.<span style=""> </span>The end is slowly approaching, but its just a reminder to enjoy what I have while I have it.<span style=""> </span>I’m still eager to see what each day will bring with each challenge and blessing.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9ldQOEQuI/AAAAAAAAAII/YNal2zpAmaw/s1600-h/159.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9ldQOEQuI/AAAAAAAAAII/YNal2zpAmaw/s320/159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368120834093499106" border="0" /></a>Dropping Nick back off at Crater Lake</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9lcziBXpI/AAAAAAAAAIA/Aya8PWg3AHU/s1600-h/180.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HVl9ho_E8BE/Sn9lcziBXpI/AAAAAAAAAIA/Aya8PWg3AHU/s320/180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368120826392567442" border="0" /></a> Crater Lake<br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><o:p></o:p></p>Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-48105811776311941332009-07-27T23:26:00.000-07:002009-07-28T01:08:03.070-07:00Etna, the Mecca of Culture and ThoughtIt was suggested in the last post that my next stop was to be Seiad Valley. It wasn't. I'll be honest. The hike into Dunsmuir, with its solitude, poor trail maintenance, and clear cuts, left me feeling a little down. Fortunately, this section proved to be a moral buster. After hearing from a few southbounders and hiking with two new friends, I decided to follow them into Etna for a one-night layover. It was a wonderful decision.<br /><br />I left Dunsmuir in the middle of a hot afternoon, and I was feeling a little down, as I have said. I even read the letter my friend Mike gave me at the beginning of the trip that I was not to read unless seriously considering quiting the trail or feeling terribly lonely. It was funny and encouraging and got me going again. Thanks Mike. I still have it in case I should have another bad day. As I got moving again I passed under the impressive Castle Crags. These enormous pillars of granite stretch almost completely vertical into the sky and are very reminiscent of the Sierra country. The next few days to Etna would contain more Sierra-like granite, minus about 4000 ft of it. <br /><br />It was uncertain that moral would improve right away, because shortly after leaving town I encountered my first black bear. It was so small however, that I thought it to be a black German Shepard at first glance. I easily scared it away with some aggressive shouting and after waiting a few moments to let it create distance between itself and the trail, I continued on. To make matters worse, I encountered yet another rattlesnake before making camp. This being about the sixth encounter I am getting better at controlling my fear and heart rate. I made camp near a small stream and was joined shortly thereafter by another thru-hiker. Fox Trot was probably in his early thirties and is a commercial fisherman in the winter. Having ample time for hiking, he has amassed over 30,000 miles of trail over the last fifteen-some-odd years on every trail you can think of. <br /><br />I hike alone the entire next day. It was almost thirty miles exactly when I came to Highway 3 at Scott's Summit. Upon arrival, I noticed a small handwritten note on the trail head to make my way 1/2 mile down the highway to Camp Independence for some refreshments. I figured it was a YMCA camp or something of the like, but it was just a dad and his son enjoying their own little getaway property in the mountains. I made it just in time to catch dinner. The dad's name was Cub and he told me to hit the barbecue for some chicken and Chet, his son, brought me over a beer. They said I could role my sleeping bag out where I'd like and I was welcome to whatever I wanted. Still pretty full of three BBQ chicken breasts, I managed to have a few peanut butter cookies too. We then move the cooler over near the fire pit and continued talking fireside. Cub had hiked the trail back in '78. He graduated high school a year early because he wanted to go hiking so bad. Back then it was mostly logging and forest service roads but he made it the whole way in just over six months. His memory of every detail of the trip impressed me after so many years. He really got me excited about making it all the way to Canada again. Cub and Chet were so generous. They woke up with me the next morning and cooked breakfast and gave me a ride back to the trail. My luck was perfect because they were only there for that night and it turned out to be some of the best trail magic of the trip. <br /><br />I eventually made some more friends with some hikers I could actually keep up with the following day. At lunch by a nice spring, Ice Ax and Heaps came hiking by. Ice Ax is forty and finishing the hike after one failed attempted 18 years ago. He hikes a brisk pace, but if you get winded you need not worry about an awkward silence, because one will never come. He is never at a loss for things to keep the conversation rolling. Heaps is about 22 and came to the trail from Sidney, though he was born and raised in New Zealand. We had a lot of fun chatting down the trail that afternoon. It was nice to talk with new personalities and make new friends. We all camped at different miles for the night but regrouped in the morning for the hike to the highway, and boy was it a great morning. <br /><br />The fourteen miles we hiked to the highway was filled with interesting people. It started out simply enough with a couple of over-nighters but quickly got interesting. Coming around one corner, we are all surprised to see a number of goats in the trail. Scanning the area we find a woman who could have been Mother Nature herself standing among the trees. She greets us and the questions begin. Soon her friend hikes up to the trail from below where more goats were grazing. He had a wide brimmed hat on and some high water trousers held up by suspenders well clear of his sandals. They told us that they had just hit the trail a few days ago. They lived completely off the land and their goats. They had 18 goats all together and would get as much as 4 gallons of milk a day. They offered us some milk and it was quite taste. They said they also make cheese and yogurt and always have more than enough to eat. They told us they even slaughtered one disagreeable goat when some friends of their's came out to visit. They said that they would stay out until the weather turned cold. Then it would be back to the abandoned hippy commune for the winter. As he put it, they live completely off the grid and they seemed to like it that way. The three of us were quite impressed with their lifestyle. It was so simple and organic; just natural. We ended up talking with them for just shy of an hour, but town was calling. <br /><br />The next group we met was about 6 guys, all over sixty. They said they had been hiking in the summer together for 40 years. They were super nice and we all agreed how wonderful the hiking community and lifestyle was. There was quite an aroma about the group. I'm sure they had just been enhancing their hiking experience before we met them. You could tell they were familiar with the Haight/ Ashbury scene and wished it were still around. Again, it was unfortunate, but we eventually had to moved on.<br /><br />It was a tough hitch into town. The third car we saw picked us up but that took over an hour. When we got into town we found ourselves at the local drugstore which had an old fashion soda fountain and ice-cream bar. We all had milkshakes and then went to the cafe for lunch. We heard about this school that hosts hikers for free so we made our way over. There were some hikers already there that gave us the rundown of the place. The school is a sort of alternative college that focuses on intercultural studies and humanitarian projects. There are a number of students from South Korea, Germany, Brazil and the US. After grabbing dinner we came back to the school because Tim, the German student, was leading a discussion on patriotism for his peers. We were welcomed into the discussion and what a blessing it was. <br /><br />Boy was it refreshing to exercise the brain instead of the body. It was such a wonderful platform as well. The opinions encompassed a wide scope and it was beautiful to learn how each felt about his or her country. The conversation was, understandably, clouded with semantics, as most were using their second language, but all managed to convey passionate ideas about boarders, government, and environment. Tim mediated the conversation beautifully, always ready with another question or example when silence approached. The discussion continued well after its formal conclusion. I began to think about the ironies of my own trip. The two boarders I would be crossing greatly differ. One is a fifteen foot fence with barbed wire and armed guards. The other is a row of trees that have been cut down without so much as a single customs agent. It was interesting to think of all the many complications reported by the news from around the world when this group of a dozen students from its every corner sat together in loving conversation with one another. Its almost as if the lines that were drawn in the sand so long ago have failed to serve their purpose. I'm not even sure what that purpose was. To the couple we met that herds goats in the mountains, these lines that, in most cases, exist only on paper maps are senseless markings by a child with a crayon. They have no bearing on the way one lives when herding goats. They need nothing from a government or union or state. They have no income so they are nothing to the government, but the government can't provide them with land or goats or each other, so the government is nothing to them. <br /><br />Don't be too worried about me though. I have plenty to keep me tied to a mainstream American lifestyle. I'll be to Seiad Valley in a couple of days and then Ashland shortly after. I'm so thankful for my unplanned stop in Etna. I'll never forget the people I've met today. They've certainly given me plenty to think about on the trail for the coming miles. Its nice to know where I'm hiking from day to day and now I have to figure it out for the coming years. I'm sad to say that I may lack the courage to be a wondering mountain goat herder but "off the grid" does sound like a very interesting place.Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-6332399618152238912009-07-23T13:39:00.000-07:002009-07-23T14:12:19.397-07:00Hop Skip and a JumpI left Burney Falls early Monday morning. Skivvies and I had a great time together. The day before we were able to chat about a lot of things, driving hikers here and there. Then, when everyone was where they wanted to go we headed for the falls not too far from Homeschool's house. Its a beautifully unique waterfall. Like any water fall, the stream billows over the edge, falling over a hundred feet to the pool below. What makes it truely unique is that water flows directly out of the cliff wall from underground aquifers, and the stream doubles in size as it leaves the pool. Skivvies and I decided we had to jump in for a dip. Well, I jumped in, but Skivvies, after his accident jumping into Tahoe, decided it would be safer to just wade into the cold water. Because the water comes straight out of the ground it hasn't had a chance to be warmed by the sun and its about 45 degrees; quite refreshing. We weren't able to stay in and swim very long, but the warm day quickly heated our chilled bodies as soon as we were out. Skivvies was uncertain what the rest of the summer would hold for him but things seem to work out for Team Sweetwater. Hopefully I'll see him again soon after the hike. <br /><br />The trail from Burney to Dunsmuir was hot. It was a hundred degrees all three days, but there were enough stream crossings to cool off. Luckily it was shaded by thick forests most of the way. I passed but one southbound hiker during the three days. I'm sure my friends are just ahead, but thats how it works out sometimes. You could be no more than a mile away from another hiker but if you never catch him it feels like your the only one on the whole trail. I passed a couple of fly fisherman. That seemed like a wonderful weekend trip; find a good spot and wait for the fish to come to you. There was also a large family that had made the short day-hike up the Squaw Valley trail for a nice refreshing swim. By one of the creeks I found a pair of expensive smartwool socks that I have been packing, hoping to find the owner. So far I've not had any luck with that. <br /><br />Getting on top of the ridges in this section give quite amazing views of Mnt. Shasta. Its amazingly impressive. John Muir wrote once that his first sight of Shasta made his blood turn into wine. Although, I did not become intoxicated at its sight, it was quite a sight to behold. It must be five or six thousand feet taller than any other mountain around and its volcanic origins give it quite a different character than the granite peeks of the Sierra. I'm sure we'll be seeing its peek well into Oregon as it dominates the landscape. <br /><br />I made it into town late last evening. I had missed the postal hours so I set about the town in search of pizza. At the local pizzaria I met a section hiker, Bigfoot, who was staying in town. We hung out for a bit and then it was off to the motel to shower and down my extra large BBQ chicken pizza. I figured it would be for breakfast too, but when it was completely devoured before bedtime I ran over to the grocery store to buy some cereal for in the morning. Since I was already there I also baught and ate a half gallon of ice cream to boot. Sometimes the hiker hunger takes over in town and there is nothing you can do to stop it. <br /><br />Thismorning I slep in and got my box at the post office. My parents have been wonderful to send a parcel to almost all of my town stops. Sometimes these little mountain towns can get a little pricey. I also recieve a wonderful box from our friend, Sharon. We were hoping to meet up on her drive up north to Washington but she was kind enough to leave me a treat even though it didn't work out. Between that and the box from Mom and Dad I will be eating quite well on this next leg. I sorted things in my room before checkout then went about my other town duties. There was laundery, visit to the hardware store for fuel, and then to the library where I am now. I'll grab a bite to eat soon and hitch back to the trail this afternoon. It'll be hot but I'll hike till dark when its at least cooling a little bit. The next stop will be in Seiad Valley. I don't think its more than a PO, resturaunt, and small store all in the same building. Shortly after that, its a short leg to Ashland. California you've been quite a hike.Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6884421309790128608.post-20336380023785437042009-07-18T18:40:00.000-07:002009-07-19T07:17:16.196-07:0030s 30s 30sAfter an amazing 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span></span> of July in Tahoe it was time to get serious about this hiking thing. Team <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Sweetwater</span></span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Homeschooler</span></span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Skivies</span></span>, told me they would be taking a few days off in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Burney</span></span> and said it would be fun to hang out again. I foolishly agreed to see them in ten days. It is over 300 miles between Tahoe and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Burney</span></span>, and I would have the opportunity and motivation to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">acquaint</span> myself with the then <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">allusive</span> 30 mile day. What a way to hike.<br /><br /><br /><br />I was ushered to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">trailhead</span></span> by Tom and the boys amidst a flood of other vehicles fleeing Tahoe after the holiday. Hiking by 1 p.m. or so, I quickly came upon the Echo Lake general store and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">acquired</span> my resupply box and started sorting. I had plenty of food but I had gotten rid of my stove <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">during</span> my time off. I had been making small fires to cook dinner to that point but the Desolation Wilderness <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">prohibits</span> any open flame in the park. I was about to by a box of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Sterno</span> when I met some section hikers that herd of my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">dilemma</span> and quickly solved it with an extra <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">alcohal</span></span> stove they had been carrying. Trail magic never ceases to come through in a time of need. I broke out of the store at a brisk pace but only made it 12 or13 miles as it was already late in the day. The Desolation Wilderness is gorgeous. Hundreds of lakes and remarkably green forest, it draws quite a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">crowd</span> and I passed a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">plethora</span> of hikers before they began to thin in the evening. I made camp by a small lake and, having had dinner a couple hours earlier, quickly got into bed. The next day would be a landmark day in my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">trek</span>.<br /><br /><br /><br />The key to the thirty mile day, in my opinion, is in the first three hours of hiking. I would wake up <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">fairly</span> early, have breakfast, and then hike for ten or twelve miles straight before I'd take a break. Sometimes I would have as many as 14 or 15 miles in the bag by noon. Then in the afternoon when fatigue would <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">sneak</span> in there was plenty of time to take a few rests. Sometimes I would stop at at five or six to make dinner and then I would be free to hike till dark before making camp. The entire day needs to be utilized, but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">just</span> like the body adapted to 20s it adapts to 30s also.<br /><br /><br /><br />The day before I went into Sierra City I met a real high mileage hiker. Scott Williamson is somewhat of a trail legend. He had done the trail many times and has completed a successful <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">yoyo</span></span> as well. This year he is attempting to break the unsupported speed record of 70-some-odd days, and complete the entire trail in 65 days. When we met I was taking a break with some day hikers I had met. I recognized him as he approached from past years <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">slide shows</span>. Plus he is not easy to miss. Standing about 6'4'', wearing just some running shorts and his trail runners, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">caring</span> a tiny pack the size any small child could take to school, he moves. Having heard of his hike already I said, "Good luck on the record Scott."<br /><br /><br /><br />He said, "Whats your name hiker? Are you through hiking?" I told him my name and that I was and he said, "Enjoy your hike. Its a beautiful trail." The whole time he was moving down the trail and he was quickly out of sight. I knew we would not meet again. He must be averaging somewhere between 40 and 50 miles a day, but it was fun to at least meet someone that is such an icon on the trail and had done so much for promoting its conservation.<br /><br /><br /><br />The following day I hiked into Sierra City through some campgrounds. The campers in the park must far out number the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">permanent</span> residents of the small town. I had <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">barely</span> made it onto the "downtown" street when a woman called to me from a balcony over a small cafe. She said to come up through the door with the PCT logo on it and I made my way up. She and a friend had rented out this apartment for the week with the sole purpose of hosting <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">thru</span></span>-hikers. It seems I had caught them on the day they were due to check out but it was still early so I was able to get a shower and sort my resupply box before it was time to go. There were a bunch of hikers hanging out. Some were waiting at the mercy of the US postal service for their resupply boxes and some were just taking advantage of a couch to sit on when they had the chance. At the apartment was Spec' and Maggie, Lucky Larry, The Skipper, Super Dave, and Batman among others. I didn't know it at the time but I would be seeing a lot more of these folks in the days to come.<br /><br /><br /><br />There was a few thousand feet to climb out of town but it was steep and went fast. Once on top, the 30s continued to the next stop which was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Belden</span></span>. Between it was a nice hike. Mellow grades and plenty of water around made for an easy go for a bit but then there was a long drop into river bed just before <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Burney</span></span>. I wanted to make it to the water so I could make my dinner and breakfast in the morning. I must have miscalculated a bit because I thought I should have been there well before I arrived and I had to hike into the dark before I made it to the bridge and a couple of nice campsites on the shore. There was a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">hiccup</span> on the decent. I was hustling to beat the coming darkness when I heard the last thing I wanted to hear. The rattling tail of a rattlesnake is such a sharp and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">piercing</span> warning it definitely <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">accomplishes</span> its objective. I thought my arms have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">slowly</span> atrophied to near uselessness, but it seems they have a bit of strength left in them. Upon hearing the dreaded sound my feet <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">immediately</span> lifted from the ground and I vaulted myself forward beyond the snake with a desperate thrust of my trekking poles. Safely in camp I asked a hiker if I could share his spot till morning. His name was Christoph the Explorer and he fittingly looked the part. Clothes a little ragged, he wore a stylishly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Victorian</span> felt hat and had much of his tarps and blankets hanging from his pack down to his knees. He was a super nice guy, just doing some solo hiking on the the Tahoe Rim Trail and the PCT. I left him in camp in the morning and headed for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Belden</span></span>.<br /><br /><br /><br />It was an over four thousand foot drop into the river's valley and the town resort of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Belden</span></span>. The decent was made more interesting by the growing sound of techno music coming from below. As I approached the resort I asked some campers where things were and where to go. I was interested to find that each person I talked to was European and each subscribed to a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">neo</span></span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">hippy</span></span>, kind of bohemian style of dress; very ragged and nick-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">nacky</span></span>. There was a dance floor that was crowded with people, jumping and moving to the beat. I came to find out that the resort hosts a number of raves throughout the summer weekends. It was quite entertaining to watch.<br /><br /><br /><br />I made my way through the wild party and down the road a mile to the local trail angel's, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Braatens</span></span>. They were not home when I arrived but the note said to come on in and be at home. It was a lot of fun to stay there. They were quite sweet and many hikers arrived. We had a good time and after breakfast the next day, I made the 4000 ft climb out of town. The next stop was mountain resort <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Drakesbad</span></span>. We were about 14 miles away when we camped but having heard about a wonderful breakfast buffet, I decided to awake early and try to arrive before 10am. Up at 4:30, trekking as fast as I could, I arrived on property at 9:30 only to hear that breakfast ends at 8:30. I quickly was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">consoled</span> by the fact that they would do my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">laundry</span> for free and I could wait for lunch by their <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">hot spring</span> fed pool and have a shower. Maggie and Spec' caught me there and we enjoyed a few hours of relaxing through the mid-day heat.<br /><br /><br /><br />Leaving the resort the trail follows a series of creeks. Water was not a problem but the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">mosquito's</span> that live in it was. They were <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">awful</span>. Swarms <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">harassed</span> me for hours. They would land on my arms in such numbers that a single slap would kill four or five. When I sped up to leave them behind, many rode on my pack and waited for my pace to slow. I would agitate my pack by shaking it or hitting it with my trekking poles only to see swarms rise over each shoulder. They bit through my shirt and pants. They would land on my head and crawl through my hair to bite my scalp. I had bites all over my arms and legs and finally found relief when the trail left the creeks. I need to get some more bug spray.<br /><br /><br /><br />I made it into Old Station the next day. I took the afternoon off because I had heard from Skivvies that he had hurt his foot so there is no rush to get to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Burney</span></span> anymore, and I was also tired. Even with the stops I had mentioned, I was still hiking 25 to 32 miles a day, and Old Station is home to a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">renown</span> trail angel, Firefly. She is a sweet old lady and her and her husband Denny run their place, the Hideaway. Lucky Larry, Batman and I took up spots in their <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">tree house</span> while others took some of the tents. We had dinner and everyone pitched in to help. There was electricity in the tree house so we watched a couple of movies, The African Queen and 2001 Space <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">Odyssey</span>. It was fun to relax and in the morning it took us a while to get going, helping with dishes and waiting for rides to the trail. We got going so late, in fact, that I decided to take the road into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Burney</span></span> instead of the trail so I could make it to the post office before it closed the next day.<br /><br /><br /><br />The road walk up the 89 was actually quite beautiful. It was mostly a series of old ranch houses and large <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">spreads</span> with cattle grazing and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Mnt</span></span>. Shasta in the background. I made it in close to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Burney</span></span> by nightfall and called Skivvies who came to pick me up. It was great to see my friends again, although I was sad the injuries had taken them <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">off trail</span> I was glad to be able to catch them. The night I got in a family friend of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Homeschool</span></span> had us over for dinner. There was great conversation. The family was delightful. Les, the father, who had come with Skivvies and picked me up, told us of a town BBQ that we checked out the following day. It was a lot fun and the food was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">excellent</span>. We spent the afternoon giving rides to some other hikers that were passing through town. We'll plan to go to church in the morning and then its back to the trail for me. I'm not sure when I'll see Team <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Sweetwater</span></span> again. Its unfortunate that they are no longer hiking. They have become wonderful friends.<br /><br />My next resupply is in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Dunsmire</span></span> and then its really not to far to Oregon. I can't wait. We just recently passed the half way point, but will feel so close when I'm able to cross the Oregon boarder out of California. It will be nice to be back in the NW, closer to family and in more <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61">familiar</span> mountains. The trail is getting long and I'm looking forward to completing it but I know I still have a long way to go.Nick Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07161682941773887189noreply@blogger.com2