Amy Adventures On: Rock Climbs, Road Trips & Snow Storms

Posted on October 27, 2012 by Amy

Prequel: Ashy & Amy’s Great Adventure: Arcata, San Francisco & Yosemite

All living, of the eating and sleeping variety at least, was done out of Camp 4 in the Yosemite Valley.

Camp 4 is hot bed, if you will, for international climbers. These hills ain’t no joke. Hundreds were gathered from far & wide to have a shot at the challenges of the mammoth rocks that surround them. Dozens more were gathered in line at the check-in station at 6:30 in the morning hoping to get a site at the infamous Camp 4.

Ashy & Amy, however, were not quite prepared for that kind of adventure. They didn’t have a single rope or harness between them. And they definitely didn’t have a reservation at the coveted Camp 4. They did, however, have a carload of fresh farm stand vegetables and a bottle of peach champagne, they were sure to make friends.

Luckily, they didn’t have to go too far. Amy’s laugh can be heard from a distance, and they were soon reunited with Petr & Jake whom Amy had met during her stay in Arcata. Petr, a Czech with a travel addiction and Jake, an American with a work addiction made for a perfect pair. They were ideal guides for the environment.

They had all the gear…

… and were able to take them on some good climbs. They led,

…and Ashy & Amy followed. That was it. Amy, in particular, was hooked. The climbing bug, as they call it. She got it. It wasn’t lettting go.

But the duo didn’t just drop everything and join the international climbing circuit. They had to do some more exploring…

….and marveling, before their stay in the Yosemite Valley was through.

Amy, as we recall, was conflicted. She could continue on the super fun road trip extravanganza with Ashy girl extraordinaire…

…or do the responsible thing and head back to Arcata for a big garden workshop party that we’ve been planning for all month.

Well, dear reader, Amy chose the later and hopped in a rugged Toyota truck with two handsome young men and headed back north to the Garden Collective.

OK, the handsome young men were Petr & Jake, and they were planning on going on a tiny adventure before they made it back to Arcata. First there was the Tuolumne Meadows in Northern part of Yosemite National Park.

But there was a snow storm coming and they were planning on closing the road out of the park. So the newly formed adventure trio decided to head North through Nevada, which inevitably ended up in the casinos…

…mostly to eat giant cheap burgers. After these boys’ two week stay in Yosemite Valley, this was quite a treat. Petr is a particular fan of the American fare. He was always complaining about how he didn’t have enough bread or potatoe in his diet.

By now the snow storm that was bent on blanketing the mountains with that first snowfall was right behind them. Jake and Petr, best friends for life, were set on conquering the oncoming storm with only their wits and their tents. Amy on the otherhand, was hoping for a hotel in Reno. The boys, bent on adventure, insisted they trek on. They settled on a charming little campsite next to a stream in Lassen Volcanic National Park. Amy, still having her wits about her, decided to sleep in the cab of the truck, while the boys chose the bed of the truck & a bevy sack on the ground outside, by the time they awoke they were covered in 6 inches of snow. Amy, however, was safe inside…

Our adventure duo perked up with excitement. It was time to use the rugged truck to make fresh tracks on the snow.

However, as soon the trio made its ways down the mountain and out of the snow, they realized, the food box was still at the campsite. The morning rush had missed just one thing…

They had to go back, but not before Jake gets some coffee & Petr rescue rangers someone from the snow. It took them many hours to make it to Redding, California where a friend awaited with hot showers, laundry facilities and a fireplace to play Mancala next to.

They mountain biked & visited waterfalls before they made their way back to Arcata, California…

Just in time for Amy to prepare for the big garden party and have a visioning/planning session for a new garden space in McKinnleyville. So that is where we leave off, dear reader, Arcata, California for another fun filled session of gardening & volunteering. Until we meet again…

Blast From The Past: The Great Escape

Posted on October 12, 2012 by Amy

I know what its like to need to travel. That’s why I’m here. I needed to “travel.” Not everyone needs nor wants the same thing, and I don’t blame them in the least. The comforts of home are incredibly alluring. For example, I am currently missing very much my golden cross country running shoes. I mean, honestly, they were gold, and they made me run like the wind. Also, I had a kimono thing that I could really appreciate every once and a while around here. However, the fact of the matter is, I wouldn’t really be missing those things if I hadn’t been in the same place long enough to notice that they were missing. It takes a bit of settling to recall the luxuries of a silk robe and golden running shoes. Ya hear me?

So that’s where I am right now. Stationary enough to miss things, but mobile enough not to acquire new ones. It’s fulfilling, yet lacking — effective for my purposes, but not quite traveling. But after this weekend, the subtle nagging ennui that inevitably creeps over me in times of repetition shall be quelched. I am embarking on a road trip adventure! One of my favorite friends, Ashley is swinging through in her station wagon o’ fun to tourista our way through even more of California. You guys, I’m going to get to see Yosemite! and I don’t have to bike there!

So, in searching for the inspiration to speak to ya’ll despite my non-traveling state, I looked to that dusty old secret blog from five years ago when I lived in the mountains in an abandoned miner’s cabin with no running water or electricity. Um, yeah more on that here: Blast from the Past: 20 Things I Learned Living in the Woods.

It was with nearly the same amount of stationariness that I wrote the following bit about my great escape from a very different small town USA.

The Great Escape (Friday, August 27th 2007)

We had to get out. Living in a little box canyon 45 minutes from the next tiny town can really get to your head.

So last Sunday….we escaped.

We rented a car and made a big ol’ carbon footprint on Mother Earth. I don’t regret it either. My sanity was coming into question and I think Jeremiah would have stabbed someone with his homemade trident if they so much as uttered the namesake of this village.

We have been bobbing up and down as to whether to stay here. We were offered a cheap rent-controlled apartment, end of season bonuses, free ski passes and easy livin’. The possibility danced around in our heads like children wondering whether or not to go run in that warm summer lightening storm. The town is practically begging for us to stay, “please stay here. work for me. we promise were not that crazy.”

Needless to say, we needed to escape.

We have been living in the woods for over two months now, and it really starts to get to you after a while. There isn’t nearly as much to distract you from your own wandering thoughts, and unless you are content at being oblivious… the end of the world doesn’t seem so far off.

We contemplate compulsive consumerism, global warming, resource wars, peak oil, Hummer driving mother fuckers, apathetic TV watchers, the failure of the media or the crisis concerning the coral reefs.

It can really bring ya down.

On top of that, once we come out of our off-grid wonderland, we enter this new surreal bubble. This tiny tiny rich town where people are so wrapped up in their cocaine, PBR and real estate that they forgot what its like to be a human.

So, needless to say, we escaped.

With only my purse in hand we headed off onto the open road. We went to a hot spring… no swimsuit… where I bravely bared my naked body to the world.

We slept in the car. When we woke up from out uncomfortable sleep we couldn’t bear the idea of returning to our teeny box canyon. So we threw caution (and our bank accounts) to the the wind and rented the car for one more night and got the cheapest hotel room in a nearby corporate town.

I laid in bed for hours and watched television. I learned about something amazing, which I wouldn’t doubt if a similar idea appeared in my near future.

We numbed ourselves for two days straight. We ate at an eerily quiet Chinese buffet. Cheap Chinese food is our mutual guilty pleasure. We went to a dollar store and bought stuff made in China, and even entered a Wal-Mart staffed and stocked by China.

It felt so god damn American.

But now I’m back. Working the night shift at my fancy hotel. I’m thinking about stealing a condo tonight. No one will ever know. This is why you can’t trust the homeless to work at hotels.

It doesn’t matter though. I’m leaving in a week. Shhhh…don’t tell my work. They’ll figure it out when I pull the ol’ “no call, no show.”

I can’t wait.

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So, it sounds like right after that I was going to get on a plane and fly from Denver to Madison to surprise my mother before my trip to Guatemala. It should be noted that despite hating on “Hummer driving mother fuckers” in this entry that very next week, on my way out of that tiny town a Hummer driving mother fucker ended up giving us a ride and eventually a Mazda 3 with a full tank of gas so that I could make my flight home. It’s a great story really, but perhaps for another time.

As for now? Now, I prepare for yet another great escape. Isn’t it funny how history tends to repeat itself?

Volunteer Project: Voluntourista

Posted on August 31, 2012 by Amy

I’m not Julia Roberts, people!

When I tell people–usually middle aged women–what I am doing with my life their eyes get all wide, their hand immediately goes to their chest as if to catch the small gasp that follows, and they exclaim “Oh my! Like Eat, Pray, Love!” They then look at me with bated breath as though some profound snip bits of wisdom are about fall from lips. Instead, I usually say something like, “Um, sure, like Eat, Pray, Love.”

I have never read or seen Eat, Pray, Love. I admit it. I’m sorry. Sue me. But it comes up so often that I found it quite odd when Elizabeth Gilbert (the woman that wrote Eat, Pray, Love) came up on the random TED Radio podcast I downloaded for myself for my many moments of solitude in the woods.

Just another beautiful coincidence.

So I listened to Elizabeth’s TED talk, yes we are on first name basis, whatevs. The talk is about the creative process and where ideas come from. Relevant, indeed. She kicked it off by reflecting on the way ancient Greeks & Romans thought of genius and creativity. They didn’t necessarily look at genius or creativity as something that came from within a creative individual, but instead as a little spirit or fairy that came into a mortals life. She posited that this was actually a better way to think about the creative process than our current tortured genius model. That is, if creativity comes from outside the individual then we can relieve the creative person from the invitable emotional and social implications of being the vessel for producing these creative works.

Sitting alone in the woods with my tiny computer & solar charger I listened very intently to everything she had to say. I dropped what I was doing. She may as well have been speaking to me. I definitely understood where she was coming from when she talked about the pressure of delivering on the sequel to her wild success. I too feel and understand this pressure, you know, without the whole wild success part.

I appreciate that she chooses to look at creativity and writing as a creature/being/fairy that exists outside of herself. I like this imagery. She has resigned herself to the position of an hourly worker at the will of this seemingly fictional externality. She just has to show up to work and write everyday, and if that little genius fairy did not come to work that day, than it wasn’t her fault, because she had showed up to do her part.

My Tiny Fairy Creature

With that in mind, I thought I’d talk about this project that I am doing, Voluntourista. It means a lot of different things to a lot of different people, already, and I’ve just started. It’s just an idea. Its something I’m doing, but it does feel like something supernatural, something outside myself, is pulling me in this direction. If you know me, you know what I’m talking about. I’ve written about it. This idea of following the signs and listening to the universe, I’ve always been into that, but now it seems as though the universe is speaking to me on overdrive.

Being here and everything that has happened to me thus far, I can’t help but feel like this project has been pulled from me. When I explain this to people it is frequently accompanied by my right hand pulling an imaginary rope from my chest until it causes my whole body to stumble forward. I fell as though that is more descriptive than anything I could ever say. Its like the path has been unfolding before me and I was only to say, yes, and do it.

I asked for this. I planned. I worked very hard to get to this point, but then? Then, I just took the opportunity was that was presented to me.

I want to volunteer and travel and work doing this blog thing. No, scratch that. I want to travel to voluteer, because volunteering is one of the best things in the world you can do for yourself and others. I’ve watched it transform hundreds of people over the years, and I’m not just talking about the good works that volunteers do. I’m talking about the self. What you gain from giving on a regular basis. I’m doing this project to show others that this exists. Lots of people know it. Volunteers already know it. It’s the rest of us that need to know it.

But, but I’m a Naysayer, and you suck…

People tell me all the time, “Yeah, but you know, there is so much fucked up shit in the world that I don’t even know where to start! Why bother?” And yes, I hear ya. There is so much fucked up shit in the world, and you’re not gonna change any of it. I mean, that’s why people don’t vote or floss, right? There’s a sense of futility wrapped up in it all. Can on little person really change anything?

So, yes, I understand where you’re coming from, but here’s my take on it. There are already hundreds upons thousands of projects locally and around the world that are making incremental changes for the betterment of society. We just gotta jump on that bandwagon. It’s that simple.

So, my whole project, Voluntourista, this idea, can best be described as this little creativity fairy creature that has come into my life. The one that has been telling me what I need to do. The one that has forced me to beome a writer, a blogger even. That wicked little genius of inspiration and creativity that has me knee deep in the Redwoods of California with a tiny laptop, two days worth of food and a mission.

If you know me, you’d know that this is not what my personality type should be doing. I like math and stuff. I’m learning to be creative and open, because… well, because there is something pulling me and you need to know about it!

The funny thing is, I tell people in my real life this all the time. This whole schpeel about how volunteering changes you and how we all can make incremental changes. I talk about meeting new people and learning new things. I talk about all the good that volunteering does all the time. I’m sure my friends are tired of hearing about it.

I, however, am not done talking about it. I must now sit in random coffee shops and campgrounds and wait paitently hoping for my little gaurdian genius to show up every once and a while so that I can convey to you, and anyone willing to listen why I am doing this for myself and the world. NBD. I’m not crazy. I’m not tortured. I’m just possessed.

Thanks for listening.

Biking the Pacific Coast Trail: Crescent City, CA to Arcata, CA

Posted on June 27, 2012 by Amy

Harris Beach State Park to Crescent City, CA (27.3 miles)

Some in the bike touring world may think its cheating to stop at both the last city in Oregon and the first city in California, but I am of the slow travel variety, and I felt like this little city was worth exploring as well.

The ride was a lesiurely. There weren’t even any hills. The only difference was that I was now in Calfornia not Oregon and following signs that said “Pacific Coast Trail” instead of “Oregon Coast Trail.”

Crescent City was a whole lot of town. The beach was pleasant and even had a little bike path, which I generally appreciate. There’s a lighthouse and a long dock for walking and such.

I got the cheapest hotel room I could find, and charged up and wrote for two nights. I wish I could recommend this place, and I do, since they gave me the second night at quite a deal, but in reality, it smelled of bleach and there were all kinds of characters up at all hours of the night. It’s cool. I locked my doors and left the TV on when I left.

There is camping around Crescent City, Jedediah Smith Redwood State Park, but it is about 5 miles off route, and I wasn’t up for the challenge before night fall. I met an European cyclist duo at the next camp down that said it wasn’t worth the hills or the dangerous roads that it took to get them there. I’m sure it was a wonderful place to be, but I decided to stop at a park just South of Crescent City instead.

Crescent City to Mill Creek Campground (8.8 miles)

Basically, I just biked up a giant hill and then rolled deep (2.2 miles) into the Redwoods valley. The entire way down the hill into the campsite, I was cursing that I was going to have to climb that the next day.

California Parks are a bit different than Oregon parks. They have bear boxes at every site, the showers cost money, and there are a lot more rules and protections concerning the environment. Nothing too major, just asking people to be more conscious of their prescense in this very rare and protected nature. Definitely a bit more rusitc. No cell phone service or soap in the bathroom, this was some real camping. I enjoyed the simplicity.

I stayed an extra night.

Mill Creek Campground to Elk Prarie Creek (27 miles)

After climbing out of that mini canyon, I had to conquer and yet another hill before arriving at the next campsite, but the hills weren’t the only battle. I had eaten almost all my food stash and there was only one town to get food along the way. Kalamath.

I was able to get breakfast at an overpriced under-tasty cafe at the Trees of Mystery, but I found the whole place a bit disheartening and weird. (see right) Then, I made the mistake of skipping one gas station/food store, and wasn’t able to collect any more fuel for the day.

This landed me in Elk Prarie Creek with only oatmeal and unripe avocadoes for both dinner and breakfast. Awesome Amy, just awesome.

Therefore, I couldn’t stay for long.

It was, however, a pretty amazing park. There was a large open hiker/biker camp that was filled with cyclists from around the world. This park is one of the stops suggested by almost every Biking The Pacific Coast type book so there were lots of people there to hang out with.

They had an area that warned you of Wild Elk. At first I didn’t really believe there would be wild elk there, but lo and behold, there were wild elk, lots of them. The males hung out right by the campsite…

…and the ladies just down the road.

Elk Prarie Creek State Park to Arcata, CA (44.6 miles)

While California has been pretty good so far about having wide enough shoulders and space for cyclists, this particular chunk had a lot of construction, and difficult turns. The morning fog of the Redwoods and a the large trucks were a dangerous combination.

I was getting the hunger and losing steam by the time I approached Orick. All the closed up food joints and an excess of Redwoods souvenir shops upon entering town was extremely discouraging. I was worried that Orick would prolong my food drought when I stumbled on Palms Restaurant. I was able to eat three plates of breakfast deliciousness and even get internet for a couple hours. Allelujiah!

Orick was followed by many rolling hills and more construction. I rounded at least three beautiful lagoons and quite a bit of breathtaking scenery beforestopping again. There were a lot of places I wished I could have stopped and stayed at for a while, but sometimes you just need to keep pressing on. I had set up a couchsurfing host in Arcata, CA for the night and was able to meet him in the square for dinner.

Arcata has everything a cycle tourist could ask for: fresh food, laundromats, bike shops, outdoor stores, and an active social calendar. The people are friendly and the view is nice.

Since I arrived I’ve gone hiking in the Redwoods, visited sand dunes and the beach, gone to the farmers market, a Soul Night, a Pirate Radio show, a fundraiser for an at home birth, a rooftop party, a lobster feast and concerts galore. I even showed up in time for the annual Oyster Fest. Who knew?

As you can probably tell, I’ve been enjoying myself in Arcata (though I’m currently not there). I’m happy to report that I am alive & well fed and will be returning to finish up this project on community food security (suprise, suprise) by weeks end. I plan to be biking my way to San Francisco come first week of July.

Other places I biked…

… Portland, OR to Pacific City, OR (106 miles)

… Pacific City, OR to Coos Bay, OR (142 miles)

… Coos Bay, OR to Harris Beach State Park (109 miles)

Blast from the Past: 20 Things I’ve Learned Living in the Woods

Posted on March 20, 2012 by Amy

This may come as a surprise, but this is not my first time as a blogger or even my first time as a quit-your-whatever-and-go-do-something-crazy-type person. Believe it or not, I’m a serial non-conformist. Last time around, however, it was a bit different. I blogged, but I didn’t show anyone. I was also doing something crazy, but that wasn’t quite the same either.

I was writing in the time before extreme social networking. In the time before you could Google every person you met. I didn’t have nearly the same amount of skills or resources or know how or whatever as I do now. I had just graduated from college and was living in the woods with three dudes. Yup. I’m serious. This is all part of my resume to become A Voluntourista. Seems relevant, doesn’t it?

Anyhow, I recently stumbled across the old blog that I was writing during that time. I thought it might be interesting to resurrect it for the modern eye. I’m really not sure if that’s a good idea, but I guess you all can be the judge. The following was written at the end of a 3 month stay in an uber-rich mountain town living among the woodsies (i.e. people without homes that live in woods). It was quite an experiment, to say the least

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Friday, August 31st 2007: 20 Things I’ve Learned Living in the Woods

Tonight is my last night in this here small town. We will be attempting to hitch hike to Denver in the morning. I will be skipping out on my job, and leaving my home in the woods. In honor of my last night in this village I wanted to compile a list of what I have learned will living in the woods. So here it is:

20 Things I’ve Learned Living in the Woods

Water is precious. There will probably be wars about it one day.
You don’t need a gym to get in shape, just start walking your ass everywhere.
People will always try to help you out.
Be honest. It sucks to have to lie all the time.
Being homeless really isn’t so bad, in fact it could be a choice…so quit judging people about it.
But being homeless is really bad when it is raining.
Take care of your feet.
Befriend your public library. The knowledge there is free.
Don’t do coke. It will only trap you, and when you are depressed and wondering why you are trapped…it doesn’t help you figure it out. (addendum: not from experience, just an observation)
Pooping in the woods is gross. No one should have to be that intimate with their shit.
Not every sound you hear at night is a cougar or a bear or an ax murderer.
You don’t need to shower THAT much.
Cigarettes make it hard to hike up a mountain.
Appreciate your kitchen.
Its way better to pee standing up.
Bears can smell your mac and cheese.
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
Get your sleeping schedule from the sun. You’ll feel way better!
Drinking too much makes you sick.And the final things that I’ve learned while living in the woods is…
Running water and electricity are sooooo overrated.

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While it was not an easy time in my life, I have to admit that many of the wisdoms I gathered as a woods dweller will be helpful as a set out on this journey. Also, I’m coming up on another two week bout of houselessness. Last time, I wasn’t nearly as prepared as I could have been. I will need to harness the power of previously Vagabond Expert Amy to help the current Four Years Soft Amy as she makes her way into this wild n’ crazy world.

This is where in real life I would yell something like, “Feats of strength!” or growl “bring it on!” to the nearest listener. I can be a trash talker, ya know. However, right now, I don’t really have much room to talk. Oh well.

Here’s a picture of happy me in those same woods five years ago.

FEATS OF STRENGTH!!

Introduction to Houselessness

Posted on February 6, 2012 by Amy

These past five days or so, I’ve been…”floating.” I don’t really want to call it “homeless,” because I feel like I have many homes in lieu of the traditional one. I don’t, however, have a place that is all mine and that houses all my stuff– now, I’m saying “stuff” like someone punched me in the stomach, stuuuuff. Oooof.

Well, I don’t have one of these places. I don’t have a place that isn’t occupied by the man that actually owns the the place. You see, the guy whose room I’m currently subletting is back from tour, and needs a place to rest his weary head while he is in our beautiful city of roses. Therefore, I needed to do my best to disappear.

my homeless house circa 2007

I’ve been houseless before. About a five years ago, I ended up in the woods of Colorado. Its a long story, but essentially I was squatting in an abandoned miner’s cabin without electricity or running water, 10,000 feet above sea level for several months after college. I even held a job in fancy hotel a mere two mile hike away.

Unfortunately, this time I wasn’t quite as prepared. Here are some things I’ve learned during this initial bout of houselessness.

A portable bag of toiletries is extremely beneficial. Be sure to include shampoo.
If you’re staying with friends, cook them dinner. And while you’re at it…do the dishes,.
If you’re sleeping in a car, make sure you go to the bathroom before you settle in.
If you’re staying with men in their twenties remember that they may or may not have clean towels and/or toilet paper. Be self-sufficient.
Always carry a change of underwear. Always.

My expert traveler homeless vagabond self of several years ago would be ashamed that I hadn’t already learned these lessons. However, at this point in my life, I feel no shame admitting my shortcomings and feel even more compelled to write them down, because hell, my memory could go at any moment.

Bear with me.