No matter how much I try to hold onto the present it always seems to slip off into the future. It’s hard to imagine that it’s been three months since my last update. I suppose when I decided to take a break from working on my book all other writing got left behind as well. Even my journal has been void of thoughts lately. Lots of things have happened in these past three months – let me catch you up.

I left Canada and headed south back into the continental United States. My first stop of note was Mt. Rainier National Park and its snow capped peak rising majestically out of the misty forests of the Pacific Northwest. This was my first visit to Rainier and when I came around a bend in the road and saw the mountain for the first time I was awe struck. I pulled over and sat awhile picking over its rocky crags and flowing glaciers with my eyes and allowing its form to settle into my mind like the face of a new friend. With the dog banned from the trails, I explored as much as I could from the road; the visit was well worth it but it only whetted my appetite for more.

Moving south through the Cascade Range I encountered Rainer’s fiery sister Mt. St. Helens which has since been capturing headlines by once again turning grumpy. But while I was there the sun was shining and all was calm as the wild flowers bloomed amongst withering stumps of blown down trees. I remember clearly all the photos and videos taken of the mountain when it erupted in 1980. But none of it had prepared me for the immensity and scale of the eruption that became apparent when looking upon the mountain in the flesh. Seeing that gaping massive hole and measuring the slopes with my eyes to create an imaginary peak, I understood the full power of the explosion that had reshaped the mountain. I was humbled by the massive destructive power of nature, but in all that devastation the mother also planted the seeds of life. Forming new lakes which at first stunk of sulfur and other noxious chemicals released from the ground, but after only three short years were able to support life, and after five were indistinguishable from lakes that had existed for thousands of years. The healing power of the earth is amazing, and when humans leave it to its own devices it has the power to right even the most devastating of wrongs. That gives me hope for the future of the planet.

A few more hours in the van brought me to yet another example of volcanism in the Cascade Range driving home the point of how alive this mountain range really is. Crater >Lake is what remains of Mount Mazama, a 12,000 foot volcano that erupted over 7,000 years ago spewing ash over eight states and three Canadian provinces in an eruption 150 times as large as the one at Mount St. Helens in 1980. Framed by two thousand foot cliffs and five miles wide the lake is an impressive site. At 1,943 feet deep Crater Lake is the deepest fresh waster lake in the United States. Due to the depth it shines the most vivid blue making it indistinguishable from the color of the sky and creating for me, an odd vertigo so that when I looked down into the water it felt as if I was looking up into the sky – not a great feeling to have while standing at the edge of a two-thousand foot cliff.

From Crater Lake I headed back to San Francisco where I reconnected with my friends and set about preparing for my annual pilgrimage to Burning Man. This year’s art project was a lighted Shinto Gate that I built together with my friends Jeff and Elizabeth in the weeks leading up to the event. It was great fun but the weather did turn a little nasty this year with sixty mile-an-hour winds that blew over the Shinto Gate and pretty much destroyed a large portion of our camp. I took a fall from about ten feet up when one of our structures tipped over, I landed on my head and went into a roll banging my ribs in the process. I was a little shaken up but the fall didn’t stop me from going out every night and dancing the night away. We had over thirty people in our group this year and it was great to see all my friends and make a few new ones. My side still hurt when I got home so I went to the doctor and was surprised to learn I had two broken ribs. Oh well, they didn’t do anyway other then give me a fist full of pain killers and send me on my way.

Arriving back in the Bay Area after Burning Man, I set about trying to find a place to live. Traveling in the van has been good fun, but I am ready to be stationary for a little while. I want to reconnect with friends and have people in my life that are there for more than a day. I found an apartment in San Francisco with a kitchen, living room, dining room, bedroom and bathroom – it’s also on the ground floor with a garden out back which is great for doggie pee breaks. It’s smaller then my townhouse and I have to go through all my stuff once again and shed a few more things – a good process, but one that is consuming a lot of time. I feel like it’s easy to get lost in the world of places and things and I am working hard to guard against delusion and keep the freedom of the road in my mind even while I relax into my new home.

I just came back from Utah where I met up with a group of guys for a three day hundred mile mountain bike adventure through Canyonlands National Park. We rode the white-rim trail which meanders along the edge of a deep canyon, framed by towering red rock spires which rise above the Green River near it’s confluence with the Colorado River. The natural beauty of this area was amazing and the weather perfect – dry and in the eighties during the day and growing colder at night as we camped out under a star filled sky. It was a tough ride with twenty miles on the first and third day and sixty miles on the second. I didn’t have much time to train due to the broken ribs, but I managed to ride all hundred miles in a respectable amount of time. It felt good to work my body and be out in nature after dealing with the minutia of the apartment.

Lots of people are asking me if I plan to get a job now that I am back; for now the answer is no. I want to take some time to finish my book – probably through the end of the year and then try to sell it. After that – who knows? I will just have to play it by ear. I wouldn’t mind having a job for a little while, but I want one that is on my terms, not someone else’s. I fear that I have grown accustomed to this flexible lifestyle and shiver at the thought of going back to the old nine-to-five grind. I am just going to take things as they come and be open to whatever the world sets in front of me.

Until the next update – peace to all…

Leaving Denali I headed north to the city of Fairbanks. An eclectic town that feels young thanks to the proximity of the University of Alaska. I hung out here for a few days preparing for my trek up north. I went to a great folk music festival that went all day at a local park and featured many talented local musicians. Best of all, dogs were welcome and Coho made lots of doggie friends. It was a nice high for him, contrasted with the low of being neutered two days later. He came through it fine, and doesn’t seem to have any adverse effects.

From Fairbanks I journeyed up the Dalton Highway. Known simply as the ‘haul road’, it’s a winding strip of dirt and rock that leads 400 miles into the northern oblivion. It parallels the Alaskan Pipeline that runs south from the northern oil fields on the Arctic Ocean and the town of Deadhorse. One of the most beautiful stretches of roadway I have ever traveled. Massive granite mountains squat on the northern tundra, trees quickly give way to shrubs, and then the shrubs to moss and lichen. I hit the arctic circle and kept going, relentlessly rolling northward through towns with names like Wiseman and Coldfoot, lonely outposts carved out of the arctic landscape. I made it to Galbraith Lake, about 130 miles from Deadhorse. At this northern latitude on the eve of the summer solstice, the sun never sets. It was a profoundly beautiful spot, peaceful and serene; it was in this isolated location that I found the end of my book. Conventional wisdom says that after having traveled well over 5,000 miles from California that I would have pushed the final few to Deadhorse, but keeping true to my character, I bucked the typical and turned south instead making it back to Fairbanks with only one flat tire.

I worked my way back south, watching the forests burn and trying not to get burned myself. Hot and dry weather mixed with a few lightning strikes was all it took to ignite over 450 fires across Alaska and the Yukon Territories. Several times, I came across fires burning along the road, the smoke making my eyes water and impairing sight worse then any fog. By luck, I was never cut off from where I wanted to go. Roads were closed behind me, and ahead, but things magically cleared when I needed to move through a specific area. I made it to Dease Lake, a small town whose claims to fame are an RV Park, a gas station and a grocery store, and oh yes, the lake. It was here that I met up with my parents as they headed north on their Alaskan RV vacation. We sat around for a few days and talked. I was happy for the company after so many months in solitude. I backtracked with them for a day to Watson Lake where we split company and I resumed my journey south. It was a nice visit.

From there I threaded through the mountains to Laird Hot Springs – A Provincial Park in British Columbia. One of the nicest semi-developed hot springs I have ever been to, and better yet, it was free! At the lower end of the pool, the water is a balmy 104°, but as you move up toward the source of spring, it approaches scalding 130°. The game is to slowly work your way up there and set a stone on a small pile created by the few brave & burned souls. I did it, but it felt like the skin on my stomach was going to peal off my body as I neared the small pile of stones.

Continuing my journey south, I entered Jasper National Park, which is part of gaggle of national parks that all border one another including, Jasper, Banff, Kootenay, Glacier, and Yoho. The Canadian Rocky Mountains are a land of jagged granite spires, flowing glaciers, tumbling mountain rivers, and turquoise lakes. I saw bear, moose, elk, mule deer, caribou, and a plethora of squirrels that Coho would tirelessly chase; the squirrels seemed to make a game of running round and round the tree with the dog hot on his heals, but then without warning would shoot up to lofty heights leaving Coho dizzy and confused about where the creature had gone. If you ever have the chance to come to this part of the world, do it, you will not regret the trip.

Now, I camped for the night on the shores of Moyie Lake just north of the US – Canadian border, where tomorrow I will come back into the lower 48. It’s been a great trip, but I am ready for a change of pace, I think I will head back to San Francisco and put down a couple of roots for a little while – but not too long. I am happy to report that two days ago I finished the first draft of my book. I am putting it on ice for a month and like a fine wine, I am hoping it will get better with age. Once the month is up, I will read it and figure out what I need to do to turn it into something that is marketable. My humble wish is that I might sell it, for a modest amount of money that will continue to fund the adventurous lifestyle that has proven my lot.

Peace to all!

PS – I finally broke down and bought a replacement digital camera, enjoy the pictures. If you would like to see more pictures of the Canadian leg of my Alaska trip, visit the Adventure Gallery.

]]> http://www.shockstone.com/2004/07/adventure-update-17/feed/ 0 http://www.shockstone.com/2004/06/adventure-update-16/ http://www.shockstone.com/2004/06/adventure-update-16/#comments Mon, 07 Jun 2004 08:00:52 +0000 Matt Smith http://www.shockstone.com/wp/archives/6 Valdez, Seward, Homer, Anchorage, Denali State Park and Coho

Let’s see, where did I last leave off? Oh, yes the belly of the ferry. The ferry spit me out in Haines where I stayed one night and not finding anything that sparked my interest I left and drove to Valdez. A great town set at the terminus of the Alaskan Pipeline and now infamous as the site of the worst oil spill in US history. Visible signs of the spill are mostly gone unless you dig down a few inches, but the long-term effects of the spill are still taking a toll on the local population of sea creatures. The town is ringed by towering peaks and sits on the north side of a protected bay with a narrow entrance. It’s hard not feel overcome with awe at the natural beauty of this spot.

One afternoon I hired a boat to take me out to the Columbia Glacier that calves directly into Prince William Sound. It’s a strange feeling to be on a boat moving slowly through the water as it weaves in and out of small and large icebergs trying to get close to the glacier. I felt as if I was sailing on some primordial sea and was sure I would see some misshapen sea creature among all the crystal blue pieces of ice, but settled for a couple of otters. The face of the glacier is three miles wide and hundreds of feet high and is in rapid retreat, a testament to our warming climate.

From Valdez I took another ferry over to Whittier and the amazing Kenai Peninsula south of Anchorage. Arriving in Whittier I decide to keep moving and head to Seward. Leaving Whittier requires driving through The Tunnel a two-and-a-half mile long single-lane hole through Maynard Mountain. Traffic runs one way for a half hour, then the other way, and every once in awhile they send a train through shutting down traffic in both directions.

Seward, which sits on the southeastern coast of the Kenai Peninsula in Resurrection Bay, was a place I found difficult to leave. The town is eclectic with lots of little shops and few cool bars to check out live bands or watch the Stanley Cup playoffs. I camped right on the bay and would watch sea otters dig clams in the eerie twilight that passes for night here in the north. It was in Seward that I decided after a few weeks of contemplation to adopt a dog.

I had checked out a few animal shelters, but nothing clicked. When I arrived at the Nikiski Extended Life Animal shelter, I knew I had found the right animal – only problem there was two of them. Both four-month old pups’ one male and the other female. I struggled with the decision, but decided to go with the Male based on a hunch that he was the right dog for me. He looks like a black lab, but has a white cross on his chest and four white paws. His mom was a border collie and his dad a lab-husky mix. He has a laid-back temperament and loves the van. He thinks it’s our den (which I guess it is) and guards it with every once of courage he can muster. I named him Coho after the Alaskan salmon and the town where we camped out the first night we were together.

Before I could pick him up, I had to drive back to Anchorage to fly to Seattle for my friend Mike’s wedding. It was a great little break from my trip. I got to see a lot of my friends and hung out for the weekend. I flew back to Anchorage on Sunday, bought dog supplies, picked up Coho and headed to Homer after a night camping out in a state park near the town of Cohoe.

I camped out on Homer Spit, a long stretch of land that extends out into the middle of Kachemak Bay on the southwestern shores of the Kenai Peninsula. I dedicated most of my time to roaming the beaches with Coho getting to know each other and figuring out our daily routine. Since I have gotten the dog, life has become very simple. Long hikes four times a day provide great exercise for us both; we usually cover eight to ten miles a day, which is keeping me fit and trim. I dedicate mornings to my writing, which leaves the rest of the day for eating, reading and a few errands when needed. Simple but good.

Anchorage turned out to be an enigma for me. Since the city is so spread out, I had a hard time getting a sense of the place. After spending so much time in towns that I can walk across in about ten minutes, I wasn’t sure how to approach Anchorage. It seemed like a typical suburban sprawl in the middle of gorgeous mountains and beautiful bays. There were some great parks in the middle of town where Coho loved to frolic, but other then that I had a hard time getting a handle on the place.

From Anchorage, we headed north to Denali State Park where we camped out on Byers Lake. We hike the soft dirt trails that circled the lake and enjoying incredible sunlit views of Denali the highest peak in North America. Coho went for his first swim in a cold mountain stream, earning his name. We were hiking down a trail when he refused to cross a long swinging suspension bridge and dove into the stream in a panic, afraid I was going to leave him behind. Swept along by the swift current, something I don’t think he counted on, he managed to make it to the other bank and claw his way up the ten-foot bank making his way back to me.

Now I am spending a week in Denali National Park, a little constrained by the restrictions on dogs here, but enjoying it none-the-less.

Until next time, Coho says woof.

On April 23^rd I packed my backpack, left the Van in Skagway, and jumped an overnight ferry heading south. I camped out on the floor in my sleeping bag, along with a bunch of other people that didn’t want to spring for a berth, we fell asleep and woke up in Juneau – the Capital of Alaska. It was 5AM and I found someone to share a cab downtown. I arrived at the Alaskan Hotel a classic two hundred year old building with eclectic rooms that make you feel like you stepped back in time to the gold rush days. Showing up at this early hour, I surprised the night manager along with the hookers he was hanging out with in the lobby. He practically fell over himself trying to get me a room and shuffle me upstairs.

Juneau is a beautiful town nestled between the water and snow-capped peaks. I met up with two locals Chris and Dru at a bar one night and we got to talking and they offered to take me out the next day and show me around. We checked out the Mendenhall Glacier an impressive site within spitting distance of Juneau. It has a one-and-a-half mile face that flows twelve miles into a lake where pieced of itself calve into the chilly waters. We drove north to the “end-of-the-road”, where the road, well, ends – Juneau being completely landlocked and all. We also visited the Shrine of St. Terese, a very cool Catholic chapel that sits on a small island connected to land by a small causeway. Large spruce trees cover the island and shelter the natural stone chapel that looks like it grew out of the ground by divine force rather then built by the hands of man. A spiritually harmonic place that leaves an indelible impression long after you’ve left its solitudenous shores. It was great to get the local take on things and hang out with a couple of super cool guys – Alaskans rock.

I jumped another ferry and headed off to Sitka – the spot where Alaska officially traded hands from Russia to America in 1867. There is a lot of old-world charm to Sitka with its interesting mix of Russian heritage, Tlingit Indian culture, and basic Alaskan simplicity; but I had come for a date with Mother Nature. I rented a forest service cabin in the remote wilderness of Kanga Bay about ten miles south of Sitka. The cabin, just a small A-frame, with wood stove, table, loft for sleeping and a pit toilet out back was set amongst spruce trees just off the beach in a sheltered cove. Davey Lubin another great Alaskan local that helped me plan my trip dropped me off in his boat on the beach with my pack and a kayak I had rented for the week. I waved goodbye, as Davey took off promising to come pick me up in a few days.

I kayaked everyday exploring the bays, coves, and inlets around Kanga and Redoubt Bay. Eagles sat in trees overlooking the water, waiting patiently for their chance to swoop down just above the water, talons extending reaching for their dinner. They would touch the water for a brief second, and then ascend confidently, a fish hanging from their golden legs. Curious harbor seals, poking their smooth brown heads up out of the water to studied me, following my kayak for some distance; they would disappear beneath the water only to pop up again a few moments later on the other side of the boat trying to figure out just what I was about. After five days, I got a lift to another cabin along the ocean west of Sitka at the base of Mt Edgecumbe an extinct cinder cone volcano.

The black sand beaches near the cabin where very dramatic, with waves crashing against hardened lava flows, and all manner of logs and things washed up on the beach from all around the world. I felt like a kid climbing over all the logs and poking through piles of natural debris as I combed up and down the beaches. There were always deer walking the beaches near the cabin and more eagles then I could keep track of. The cabin sits at the trailhead for one of the most amazing hiking trails I have ever treaded in all my life. The Mt Edgecumbe Trail, a fourteen-mile sea-to-summit-to-sea round trip, with a 3,200-foot elevation gain- done in a single day was one but kicking hike. The trail has recently gone through a million dollar rebuild project and it’s in pristine condition. The trail winds through large expanses of muskeg, the Alaskan word for bog, but never once does the hiker have to slog through mud up to their knees. In order to accomplish this feat the builders erected miles of boardwalk that sits on top of the muskeg, or laid out tons of gravel paths where more solid footing was available. It’s an amazing engineering achievement, miles from nowhere – with most of the heavy lifting accomplished by helicopter.

I flushed two sand hill cranes out of the muskeg about ten feet away, their large grey bodies nearly the size of a small deer, they moved impossibly slow as their wings worked to lift them airborne, all the while making the strangest whooping sound I ever heard. Saw many eagles circling overhead looking for a meal. I passed a month old bear kill on the way up, and on the way down found a fresh pile of bear scat right in the middle of the boardwalk – something that was definitely not there on my way to the top. I didn’t know whether to get out my camera or pepper spray. Even though bears circled all around me, I didn’t see a one on this trip. Oh well – I’m keeping my eyes open.

There is something about being out in the woods on your own, for an extended period with no distractions, no one to talk to, or talk to you. Your mind settles into a peaceful coexistence with nature, your body relaxes, and new thoughts and impulses come unbidden – a wonderful experience that I hope to repeat again soon. Davey Lubin picked me up after three more days, and I headed back across the bay to Sitka. On the way, we ran into solitary humpback whale that was feeding on the surface and I got some good pictures. We also saw a large raft of fifty or more otters all linked up and floating on their backs in a big line; some kind of otter shindig out in the middle of the bay – it looked like good fun.

I took the ferry back to Skagway, where I hung out for a few days and checked on the status of my missing coat and camera – no luck, and the prime suspect split down. Oh well, I have too much stuff anyway. Now, I’m working on this adventure update, rocking out to Nirvana, sitting in my van, which itself is located in the belly of a ferry getting ready to depart Skagway. This ferry should take off in an hour or so and drop me off in Haines. From there I will head north working my way a little deeper into the wilds of Alaska.

This is Matt signing off…

I crossed the border into Canada on April 13^th, the border officials searched my van for something incriminating, but came up empty; guess I looked like I was up to no good. I pointed the van north from the border and began the long trek through Canada to reach Alaska. It’s an interesting time of year to be in the Great White North. On the downside, most tourist sites and museums have not yet opened for the spring season. Parks, campgrounds and hiking trails are packed-in with deep snow, so unless you have a pair of snowshoes, and I don’t, there isn’t much to do.

On the plus side, the country is incredibly beautiful and I had the place pretty much to myself. Some favorite sights along the way included winding roads through pine-covered valleys, which sit in the shadows of snow-capped granite peaks. Watching Bald Eagles soar over frozen lakes, while I stood by the roadside lost in the immense silence of the place with no other cars within a hundred miles. Roads can be odd places when there isn’t any other traffic on them. They feel forgotten, and I could almost imagine that the world I knew so well has disappeared and I was journeying on some long lost track lost in time.

I stopped a night in Cache Creek and the next day drove through lots of snow to reach Price George. From there I decided to take the more remote route to Alaska, if there can be such a thing. West on highway 16, then north on highway 37, will bring you out once again to the Alaskan Highway, saving about 130 miles. Route 37 proved an interesting drive, just a ribbon of concrete moving through pine forests and along mountain steams where moose would graze a few feet from the road. The road was an interesting mix of pavement and gravel. I would be driving along at a nice clip, come around a corner and hit a gravel section a few hundred yards long and then the road would go back to being paved. These transitions between gravel and pavement were often fraught with large gaping potholes that would easily swallow a tire; I learned quickly that if I didn’t want to bounce my head off the ceiling, I had better slow down for the transitions.

Generally, the traveling was uneventful. I would wake up in the morning, write for three or four hours, eat lunch, and drive in the afternoon for a few hours. By early evening, I was looking for a place to park for the night and cook myself dinner. I spent the evenings reading or hanging out at a local bar or café watching hockey playoff games, if I could find one that was. A simple and easy lifestyle – man it’s great to be on the road.

On April 18^th I crossed the border once more via the Chilkoot Pass and descended from a world of winter with drifts and blowing snow to the town of Skagway, Alaska. Rebuilt to resemble its Klondike gold rush counterpart, the buildings sport wooden facades and plank sidewalks. A kind of Disneyesque world designed primarily for the cruise ship trade. Great thing was the cruise ships are not running yet, so I ended hanging out with all the locals. I had a great time and met many great people. Everyone was super friendly unlike lots of places you go in the States, where everyone is lost in their own world and they don’t have time to meet anyone new.

Woody Harrelson, Holly Hunter, and Robin Williams were regulars around town and in the bars; they were filming a movie up on the pass and were staying in town for the week. Only bad thing that happened was my jacket took a walk out of the bar, the first night I was in town, along with my digital camera and sunglasses that were in the pocket. So far, it hasn’t turned up, but the crack Skagway Police Department is on the case. Thus, no pictures in this update – sorry.

Overall things are going great. My writing is really picking up momentum – I am averaging about seven pages a day, and had two ten page days last week – almost unheard of. I hope to return home with a first draft in my pocket.

Until our paths cross once again…

The journey continues, this time it’s a road trip to Alaska. For those of you out of the immediate loop, I sold my house in California this past January and bought a camper van that has become my home on the road. I circumnavigated the states during the winter months spending time with family and friends back east and Christmas at my parents in North Carolina. In my spare time, I have been writing as much as possible, working on a memoir about my journey through South East Asia. Still lots of writing left to do, but it’s coming along surprisingly well.

I left the Bay Area on April 7^th, crossing the Golden Gate and heading up the coast. My first major stop was Redwood National Park in the northwestern part of California. Walking through the towering spires of ancient redwoods, I found myself humbled by the magnitude of the woods. Near San Francisco, it’s possible to find small groves of old-growth redwoods, but they’re small and easily traversed in a few minutes of hiking. Here in Redwood National Park, there are miles and miles of old-growth forests and it’s possible to hike for hours without discovering their limits. Wonderful. There is a certain reverence and majesty to the redwood forest and as I wondered through their lofty heights, I felt as if I was walking through a great cathedral – surely, this is nature’s church.

Rambling on up the coast I arrived at Oregon’s Siuslaw National Forest where I camped for a few day hiking around the coast and working on my book. I visited Sea Lion Cave – the largest sea cave in the United States – a huge cavern located in the side of a cliff and open to the sea. An elevator lowers you into the cave, where there simultaneous barking of hundreds of sea lions create a haunting chorus. The cavern is immense and the sea lions cajole one another trying to position themselves out of reach of the pounding surf. I hiked to a picturesque lighthouse perched on a cliff and watched on orange red sun sink into the sea – a sight that never fails to inspire me even after hundreds of similar sightings.

Another day of driving brought me to Olympic National Park in northern Washington State. Here I hiked through the primeval Hoh Rain Forest – the temperate version of the tropical rain forest. Large groves of Sitka Spruce, Red Cedar, Hemlock, and Maples stand, their sagging branches draped with long veils of stringy green moss. Rotting logs, moss, and fern cover the forest floor in many layers of green. Herds of Roosevelt Elk feed on low hanging branches their velvety antlers in the early stages of growth. Walking through these forests, I felt carried back in time – a visitor to an alien landscape.

From Olympic National Park I headed east to Port Townsend where I caught a ferry across Puget Sound avoiding the snarled mess of Seattle traffic. Tomorrow I will cross the border into Canada and leave the lower forty-eight behind. Stay tuned for further updates…

If you would like to see more pictures of the Pacific Northwest leg of my Alaska trip, visit the Adventure Gallery.

A few months have fled into history since my last update and in an effort to ward off any illusion or misconception that I am settling into a normal lifestyle I thought it best to get an adventure update out the door and set the record straight. Although I find myself in familiar surroundings it is not an indication that my adventures have come to a close – far from it – the journey continues, a new chapter unfolds, and amazing things can happen even under the veil of the familiar, you just have to be open to it…

I shifted back into life in the US fairly easily – I think it helped that I was not coming back to a job, able to take my time to adjust and relax, intently ease back into the relentless current of life in the States that can so often sweep us up and carry us along though life. It was surprisingly easy to be back at home, more so then I imagined, but there were subtle differences in my actions and attitudes that I noticed. First my diet, both mental and physical has shifted over the last six months. On the mental front television is off my consumption list, it no longer has the ability to hold my attention and after all that I have been through and seen, I find that TV is a thin shadow compared to true life experience and I would rather just head out to experience life rather then watching someone else’s on television. Physically I was surprised to learn that I had lost over 20 pounds on my trip – my diet has shifted more into the vegetarian realm, although I live by no hard and fast rule and still eat meat a few times a week – it’s more about being in tune with your body and figure out what it is asking for. I feel great and have lots of energy to invest in projects that spark my interest.
I find myself compelled to simplify my life – my intention is to strip things down to only the essentials freeing myself from unnecessary ties – from this place new thoughts, ideas and a simpler lifestyle will be free to emerge. Possessions add to the complexity – all this stuff that I have accumulated over the years feels like a heavy weight restricting the freedom of life, I guess there is some truth to the old adage that you don’t own things, they own you. Changes are afoot; I have delivered tons of clothes to Goodwill and am in the process of selling a bunch of stuff on Ebay – I feel like this is a positive endeavor on many fronts – it simplifies my life, eliminating excess things and clearing clutter, I get some money in my pocket, other people get stuff they need at a good price, reducing garbage and saving resources that would have been used if the person had bought the stuff new. Very interesting… I am also planning on selling my house here in San Carlos, buying a camper van and doing some additional traveling over the next few months watching life unfold from behind the windshield. I am headed back East for the holidays and my Niece’s wedding, and am planning on taking a trip to Alaska in the spring. Eventually after a few months of van living, I hope to move into San Francisco to experience the eclectic society that city life has to offer – I have been a suburb dweller for sometime now, and I am ready for a change of pace. Probably by the end of 2004, I will be in need of some income and will have to begin working again, but I have some time to figure out what that is going to look like and hope to return to work under my own terms and not someone else’s…

Since coming home in June my creativity has been in overdrive with most of my spare time over the last two months going to my art project for the 2003 Burning Man festival in the Black Rock Desert of Nevada. If you don’t know much about Burning Man, it is an experiment in temporary community that happens for one week out of every year at the end of August where over 30,000 artists, performers, and partiers get together to create an incredible experience in the most desolate environment you can imagine, Black Rock City as it’s affectionately known is the third largest city in Nevada after Las Vegas and Nevada – for a week, then it all disappears. My project this year is the Temple of Reckless Abandon (TORA) an art car deigned to provide transportation services for the citizens of Black Rock City as well as celebrate and inspire a lifestyle guided by momentary inspirations – where with lack of caution, and no care of consequence, a person surrenders thoroughly to ones own natural impulses. I am not sure how much the latter came across in the execution, but it is definitely an intriguing concept. Imagine discarding your inhibitions, forgetting the past, ignoring the future, and living completely in the moment, enjoying immediate experience as it unfolds in reckless abandon – I enjoy planting these kinds of seeds…

The TORA is built on a flatbed utility trailer and modified to look like a temple, dramatically lit for night adventuring – it is pulled by a 20 year old (read piece of sh*t) three wheeler ATC which I had the pleasure of rebuilding pretty much from scratch to get it to run. It all turned out better then I could have imagined, and I received lots of great comments from many people, but I had times during the construction where I definitely wondered how I would get it all done; it definitely felt great when it all came together. One fulfilling aspect of the project was the many different skills I had a chance to learn or find an “expert” with knowledge to help me get along – architecture, carpentry, fabrication, tie-dying, sewing, upholstery, motorcycle repair, welding, electrical design, project management, sound design, bus driver, just to name a few, I now know a lot more about all of them then when I started. A special thanks to all my friends that pulled through during the creation, setup and tear down phases – it would not have been possible without all their help. How often to you get to spend time with some of your favorite people in the world building something that serves no purpose other then to have fun. Not often enough I think…. When it was complete and lighting up the night, I saw all my friends and all their efforts to help me pull it together – Jeff and Elizabeth in the design, Brian in the benches, Brad in the banners, Cathy and Gretchen in the tie dye, Dan in the pillars, Terry in the paint, Pete and Callum in the assembly, Don in the towing, Mark in the trike, Sakamoto in the generators, Ray in the driving, Kylie and Theresa in the tear down, James, Halvy and LaFontaine in the financing; it was my project, but they made it a reality and they made it fun. You guys rock!

Coming down off the high of Burning Man and the TORA, I am working to get my house ready to sell, getting rid of more stuff and doing some minor repairs as well as looking for a camper van to purchase so that I can get back to the freedom of the open road. In mid September I will meet my brother Phil in Colorado for a two week horse packing trip into the mountains – it will be great to reconnect with him and enjoy the clean pure air of the Rocky Mountains. October will bring me to the start of a ten week online writing class – I am thinking about taking some of my time off over the next year to do some writing – maybe even publish a few things – it will be interesting to see how that develops – if nothing else it’s another new skill I get to learn – how exciting!! Well until next time – hope this finds all of you well…

Peace,

Matt

PS – Click here to see my pictures from Burning Man including the Temple of Reckless Abandon – my art car project for 2003. To learn more about Burning Man check out their web site at www.burningman.com.

Moving west from Phnom Penh by bus and bumpy dirt road I reached the town of Siem Reap and the famed Temples of Angkor. This is one stop on a tour of South East Asia that is not to be missed. Ancient stone temples rising out of the ever-encroaching jungle certainly spark the imagination and bring up visions of a once great culture. Built mainly between the 9th and 14th centuries, the vast complex of temples around Siem Reap cover an area the size of Los Angeles. It is estimated that the city center contained over 150,000 people at its height, if you count the surrounding villages and lesser temple areas the population was an estimated 1.5 million people; all at a time when the population of London was a mere 30,000 people. I spent three full days riding around on the back of a motor bike, roaming from temple to temple. Walking through ancient doorways and corridors, scrambling up steep crumbling steps to platforms and towers that rise above the surrounding jungle, all the time trying to imagine what inspired these people to build such monuments; what life may have been like at that time. Some of my most favorite moments were watching the sunrise over Angkor Wat, and seeing it’s reflection in the ponds built for capturing the structure in their shimmering surface at the dawn of each new day. The temple of Bayon with its imposing 54 towers decorated with over 200 giant carved faces creates a very striking presence. And Thang Prom, a wonderful crumbling temple, which for the most part has been left to the slowly destructive forces of the jungle. Banyon trees grow right out of the tops of walls with roots twisting their way down to find soil, both destroying and hold together the walls all at the same time, a wondrous sight.

After Siem Reap, I braved the bus ride to Bangkok leaving Cambodia Behind. The bus only broke down twice, once with over heating and another with a flat tire – which by many accounts was on the low side of typical. It was nice to come back to Bangkok for a few days – my fifth arrival here, everything is familiar and the town feels more like home for me now then California. Spent a few nights out on the town, having fun and saying good by to some long term friends – Chris and Sabine a German couple that I have been hanging around with ever since Vietnam. Every town I went to, I would always run into them randomly and they have become good friends. Our last night out on the town together, Chris and I drank sufficient quantities of beer to brave a trip to the bug cart. The bug cart serves up various kind fried insects for your culinary pleasures. We started with the crickets – they look least imposing if that makes any sense – you peel off the ends of the legs, kind of like shrimp, and pop the whole sucker in your mouth – chew? – taste? – wow! – they were surprisingly good – we ordered more. It’s hard to compare the taste with anything, but I would have to put them in the category of perfect drinking snack right along side beer nuts. After a few bags of crickets we moved on to sample several different kinds of grubs which were equally tasty, but I drew the line with the water beetles. They were big and you had to pull the shells off of them before you could eat em’ – even with my beer induced bravery it was a little too much for me.
My return to reality date of June 17th was quickly approaching, so I decided to spend one last week on the island resort of Koh Nangyuan soaking up the sun, taking naps in the hammock, and diving the crystal clear waters. Koh Nangyuan is a small island near Koh Tao in the Gulf of Thailand – it is actually three small islands connected to each other by a narrow sand bar and surrounded by blue waters and coral reefs that create a lot of great dive sites. I checked into a cute little bungalow with a front porch overlooking the beach and the sea, the perfect place to wrap up my trip. I spent the days diving in the morning, coming back around noon grabbing a bite to eat, hitting the hammock for a solid nap and then working on my tan in the afternoon. Followed up by dinner under the stars and a few beers with the dive staff who were very cool; it’s amazing how quickly a week can go by like that. I also did my first night dive on the island, and that was a great experience; lot’s of different critters come out at night that you don’t see during the day. Shrimp, crabs, octopus, squid, blue spotted rays swimming around, puffer fish, but the best part is turning off the dive lights and swimming around in the dark with just the light of the moon – weightless, darkness enveloping you, it’s like being in space. At the end of it, the dive staff just about had me talked into pushing back my return and staying on for awhile longer. After some serious thought, I figured out that if I didn’t leave now, I would be there a very, very, long time. Although that thought was not without it’s appeal, I decided it was not what I wanted to have happen, so I packed up my hammock and headed back to Bangkok via ferry and an overnight train.

On my last night in Bangkok, as I sat in one of the street-side bars enjoying a frosty, thinking about how wonderful my trip has been, clouds moved in and it began to rain. It was almost as if the skies of South East Asia were looking down on me and weeping at the very thought of my departure. On Tuesday morning without any fan fare, I took a taxi to the airport and flew home to California. I find it amazing how one day you can be laying in a hammock staring at blue seas and the next your standing at the curb at San Francisco airport wondering how it could be so cold in June. All of it with no more hassle then it took to move from one town to the next one down the road, it really makes one feel like the world is a small place. I have to say that it is strange to be home, the feeling is a little hard to put my finger on, I think I may still be in shock. It’s kind of like a dream, it feels a little unreal, all most right, but just a little off, I keep expecting to wake up and find myself back in that hammock. I have only spent two weeks in my home since the beginning of November; it’s a long time to be away, and it doesn’t really feel like my home anymore. Although I hadn’t thought of it until right now, I am still living out of my backpack in my own home, putting things back in it when I am done with them – funny! I suspect that the normal reaction at this time would be to feel a little bit of sadness that the trip is over, but I really don’t feel that way. I decided on the way home, that the secret to re-entry into the states (aside from not going back to a job right away) was not to think that my adventure was over, but that is was continuing in a new location – not the end, just another stop in the journey…

Peace,

Matt

Leaving Nha Trang behind, I traveled southwest and up into the mountains to the small mountain town of Dalat. Sitting at about 4,500 feet above sea level, I found a welcome relief from the heat – it even got cold enough at night to break out my sweatshirt – a first. I wanted to get out in the woods, so I hooked up with a local adventure tour company and did a few day trips. The first trip was canyoning; a rough and tumble adventure, not your normal tourist fare that I am still sporting a few scrapes and bruises from. We repelled down six different cliffs two of them directly over waterfalls in the middle of the falling water. Another the rope did not reach all the way down, so you had to free-fall the last 20 feet into a crystal clear pool of water below. We hiked down through a canyon located just out of town, wading or floating down the river more often then not, sliding down rocks, floating through water chutes – what a rush!! Because it had been raining the last couple of days the water was really flowing, and that kicked everything up just a notch. Very, very, fun! I went hiking to a nearby mountain top the following day with great views of the town and surrounding county side, although not long after we got to the top, the weather shifted and it started raining like there was no tomorrow. This made getting back down the mountain very tricky as the trail became one big mud slide, soaked, muddy and cold we threaded our way back down the mountain with lightning striking close by and thunder bombing in our ears. I found myself attacked by leaches, one on each foot, didn’t even know it until I looked down and one foot was covered with blood and the other one had a slimy slug attached completely bloated with my blood. Nice! I feel like I really earned those adventures and despite the damage to my body, I had the best time – life in it’s fullest… Yes!

From Dalat I headed to the seaside resort town of Mui Ne – just three hours north of Saigon. Mui Ne consists of a small fishing village along with a long stretch of beach were many resorts and bungalow guesthouses have set up shop. Really low key, there is not much to do here other then sit on the beach and stare out across your navel. Never the less I had a great time relaxing and checking out the local sand dunes. The dunes range from about twenty to two hundred feet high, and are spread out over quite a large area. The local kids hang around and rent out hard plastic sheet that you can sit on and sled-ride down the dunes – very, very fun – and a lot like sled riding in the snow when I was a kid. Nights were very laid back, but one of note had me sitting at a bar right on the beach, looking out over the sand, watching the lightning from thunderstorms out over the ocean, and large cockroaches fighting small crabs on the beach at my feet – nature can put on a good show if you pay attention. All and all – a really nice place to relax for a few days…

I don’t think I was mentally ready for the big city reality of Saigon after my quite days in Mui Ne, but I adjusted quickly after arrival taking it all in stride. Horns from motorbikes threading their way through traffic, neon lights of countless bars welcoming you in for a drink, shops decorated with posters of the latest bands selling pirated CD’s for $.60 each, music coming from restaurants with second floor internet cafes, the cyclo drivers pushing opium and pot, “hey mister, you want something?” the come-on from the working girls hanging out on the corner; “you want go boom, boom?” Ahhh the excitement of the city… Definitely a culture shock, and Pham Ngu Lao the local backpacker ghetto, is quickly becoming another Kao San Road in Bangkok. I really liked Saigon as a city, nice easy feel, not too much air pollution, good sites nearby – the War Crimes Museum is a very emotional place that documents human rights violations that occurred during the Vietnam war, sometimes in graphic detail. I also visited the Chu Chi Tunnels, which were used by the Vietcong so successfully to fight American troops during the war. You can’t help but be amazed by the ingenuity of the people here to fight in this manner, the elaborate network of small tunnels, winding around, sometime doubling back on themselves, loaded with booby traps, with multiple levels and exits some underwater into streams. The tunnels are small, which the smaller in stature Vietnamese could run through them somehow, but larger American troops would struggle to negotiate, as I did; they go on for miles and miles, incredibly fascinating and complex.

From Saigon, I headed south to the Mekong Delta for two days touring around the river and local industries in the area, saw a coconut candy factory where they did everything by hand, from boiling the coconut in iron kettles, forming and cutting, to wrapping the individual pieces of candy and packaging. Visited a local weaving village where women weave sarongs and towels by hand on a loom. Most interesting was a floating fish farm village where the government has a contract to supply an American company with catfish. Each floating house is about 30ft X 60ft and they build a fence under the house to the river bottom 30ft below to the river bottom to contain the catfish. They claim there are 10,000 fish under each of these homes, something I find hard to comprehend and the government funds over 10,000 of these homes on the river that individual Vietnamese families manage as part of the contract. Very interesting…

I continued up the Mekong and into Cambodia – interesting doing this via the river, as it was really impossible to discern any difference when moving between Vietnam and Cambodia, other then the passport stamps at the border; this section of the river is very remote, and the farms look the same in either country. The Mekong has been a constant companion through the whole journey winding it’s way through Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam – interesting to see it’s many personalities – at the border it is nearly a mile wide, before splitting into nine main channels in Vietnam and seeking the Pacific Ocean. On another adventure I would like to visit it’s source in the mountains of Tibet.

I arrived in Phnom Penh via boat, the capitol of Cambodia and found it to be such an interesting place. One can easily imagine a once thriving city that is now working hard at a come back. Situated along a broad stretch of the Mekong River the city has a wonderful river front park with tree lined walkways lit at night by classic styled streetlamps, lined with sidewalk cafes with wicker furniture, serving up a wide range of delicious food and rounding things out with some low key live music. The whole place is very laid back; bars are fun – cool without trying to be. Generally a great place just to settle-in and relax; you can almost feel the city starting to come alive in a rebirth of the culture and economy. But there is a darker side that is not even under the surface, but right there in your face. The former Khmer Rouge government is recent history (late 1970s), but the genocide of two million Cambodians committed by them has not been swept under the rug. A trip to the S21 prison, a former school set in a residential neighborhood – now a museum – is like a raw wound, with many of the cells still containing chains, leg shackles, and various implements used to torture inmates complete with blood stains on the ceiling if you can believe it. There are many graphic photos of victims, some before and after they were tortured and I was struck by the same haunted look in all of their eyes – it’s the stuff nightmares are made from. After torture, most prisoners where taken out of town to the now dubbed “Killing Fields” for execution. Thousands of bodies have been disinterred from mass graves and the monument erected there is a chilling site. A fifteen-foot square tower rises a hundred feet in the air with glass sides and ten or twelve platforms inside which contain thousands of human skulls from the bodies they have recovered so far. Surrounding the monument is twenty or so depressions in the earth – the remnants of the mass graves. Heavy stuff. At first I felt that having the victim’s on display like th

at was disrespectful, but soon realized that it would be even more disrespectful to shield anyone who came here from the brutal reality of what occurred.

After about five days in Phnom Penh, I was ready to move on, so I headed south for the beach town of Sihanoukville where you can find beautiful white sand beaches, warm blue waters, and not much else – including other people. I mostly spent my days hanging out on the beach, catching some rays, and playing tick-tack-toe in the sand with local teenage girls who come around selling fruit. If you loose – you have to buy fruit from them – if you win, you get some free fruit – if you tie which is most often the case, you get some interesting conversation and play again. It’s raining most days now, definitely into the raining season, although it only last about 1-2 hours and does not impact the day too much. I am feeling ready to come home now – it’s hard to put my finger on why, more a feeling then anything else, but I know the time is drawing near, and I am just relaxing and enjoying my last few weeks.

I am back in Phnom Penh now – got some bad food somewhere along the way, the first time the whole trip and have been laid up in my hotel waiting to get better. On the mend now, and will be heading next to the amazing temples of Angkor next. Stay tuned…

Matt

Vientiane, the capital of Laos may well be the lowest key capital city in the world. It feels like a small town even when you are in the heart of the downtown area. My visit happened to coincide with the Laos New Year celebration, also known as the water festival. The whole city – as well as the rest of Laos – shuts down for three days and everyone, young and old get into a big water battle. No one is exempt, I found myself soaking wet for the better part of three days – hit by water balloons, mobbed by roving groups of children armed with super soaker squirt guns, buckets of water thrown from passing cars – it was impossible to escape. The only means of retaliation is to join in the fun and get a good squirt gun.

After the big water war, I moved on to Savannakhet a town right on the Mekong River, which acts as the border with Thailand. Savannakhet is a hub for trade between Thailand and Vietnam as route 9 runs straight through the middle of Laos and into Vietnam. Not lots to write home about regarding Savannakhet, it was mostly a stop over on my journey to Vietnam. I did get a great preview of Vietnamese cuisine at one of the local shops – a very tasty dish called Baw Ban. Made up of rice noodles mixed with chopped, fried spring rolls, barbecued strips of beef, bean sprouts and lettuce, covered in a sweet tangy sauce. Yum, Yum. You must time your arrival at the shop just right because the lady only makes so much everyday and when she sells out, she closes the shop. Typically she opens around 11AM and closes at Noon. Yes! It is that good. I can’t believe it’s already been almost a month since I entered Laos, my visa is running out and I’m bound for Vietnam.

I entered Vietnam by land at the Laos city of Lao Bo. The border crossing was very relaxed – just a couple of stamps on both sides and you are on your way. They were doing screening for SARS – just a simple questionnaire you fill out checking for any symptoms. Hanoi has been the only place in Vietnam with local transmission (and even that is under control now) but I decided to skip the north and only visit southern Vietnam, bypassing Hanoi just to be safe and not worry my Mother too much. Vietnam is more developed then Laos by far, close to Thailand, but not so over-run with tourists – possibly due to the SARS media scare. The drive from the border to Dong Ha was through a very beautiful river valley – with lush vegetation, banana and palm trees growing everywhere – very scenic. Overall the country is very lush and beautiful, much more so then Thailand and Laos – I guess all the best chemists in America’s war department can’t put mother earth down for long. The people are friendly, quick to strike up conversations, but also very aggressive about trying to sell you just about anything they may think you want; I was warned of this by fellow travelers, so no surprises.

Dong Ha is the first reasonable sized town you come to after crossing into Vietnam. Just an overnight stay here, but a good spot from which to explore some of the war sites in central Vietnam – mostly focused around the former Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), the dividing line between north and south Vietnam during the war. I checked out a local day tour of a few former military bases and sites of battles. It’s more a history lesson then anything else, not much to see anymore since most visible traces of the war have been wiped clean, the highlight was the Vinh Moc tunnels just north of the DMZ. The 2km long tunnels have 18 different entrances and three levels (some opening up to the ocean). Farmers built the tunnels for protection after bombs from American B52’s raised their village. Inside they are really cramped, not more then five and a half feet high and a foot and a half wide, with little cubbyholes no bigger then a folding table carved out of the walls where whole families lived. I didn’t spend more then a fifteen minutes in these tunnels before the walls felt like they were closing in, hard to believe the villagers lived in them for six long years – Eighteen babies were born in the tunnels during this time.

From Dong Ha I headed to Hue, a really nice city that used to serve as the capitol of Vietnam for several centuries, prior to the communist era. The inner city sits cradled by a bend in the Perfume River and surrounded by a moat and stone fortifications. It has the feel of a capital city, kind of hard to put your finger on exactly what it is, but still there non-the-less. Tree lined avenues, bridges over the river that are lit at night, museums, and monuments give this city a really nice feel. I visited the Vietnam War museum and the citadel ruins – home to Emperors of the Nguyen Dynasty (1802-1945). Overall a nice stop for a few days; I found it was nice to get back to civilization after my Laos adventure – plenty of traveler-oriented services in Hue along with AC and satellite TV in my hotel – what a luxury!

After a few days in Hue, I beat a path to Hoi An – which by many accounts is the nicest place to visit along the central and southern coasts of Vietnam. The town is spread across a small grid of narrow streets, crammed with excellent restaurants, small bars, art galleries, book stores and more then anything else, tailor shops where they will make any kind of clothes you want, cheep and with a custom fit. The town presents lots of opportunities to spend some money and just linger around for a few days. I really enjoyed the art galleries and met one particular artist, Hoang Trong Tien, who I spent many hours getting to know, talking about art and life in general. I bought a couple of his paintings and they are riding around in a plastic tube in my backpack. Been spending most of my time hanging out with two Canadian guys and three gals from Ireland – you meet such good people out here traveling around, and you’re only alone when you want to be.

Nha Trang, next stop heading south, also my current location, is Vietnam’s quintessential seaside party town. The beaches are really nice here – broad stretches of sand, framed on either side by mountains and a blue sea. For a buck you can rent a wooden lounge on the beach under a grass roof umbrella (excellent for sleeping). Drinks and food will show up when you call for it and you have a great view of the islands off the coast where you can find Vietnam’s best diving. I have been out two days so far and really enjoyed the diving. Not as many fish here as Thailand, but the coral reefs are spectacular – over 300 different kinds of hard and soft coral – really, really nice.

Hard to believe it is May already, starting my fifth month on the road. Things are going well and I am happy, but thoughts of returning home come into my mind more and more these days. Another month or two may bring this adventure to a close, but if I have my way, there will be many others yet to come. Hope this update finds you all well.

Until we meet again!

Matt