writing – queer vegan adventures

me and paco ride again

July 11, 2022July 11, 2022Tagged adventure, living wage, minimum wage, queer, quite your job, relationships, running, truck life, vegan, writing1 Comment

i’ve started another adventure with paco.

and i’ve started a different job

before i start this i want to be clear about a few things. i did really enjoy housekeeping (mostly its hard work with little reward other than a job well done), i really enjoyed my manager and her assistant (i would do anything for them…really!), i also enjoyed those i work with. what i didn’t enjoy was the class issues that came with it and the condescending attitudes of others’ when i told them what i did to earn money.

so, ya, i quite my job.

well first i started a 2nd job bartending again. it’s been awhile since i’d done this type of work. at first i just thought i would do it for a day or 2 to help out. but then i remembered what i like about it.

i found myself making more money in less time. i had conversations with people and not just in my head or respond to whatever podcast i was listening to while working. i had actual in person real time conversations.

on top of it all, i wasn’t really getting in the hours i needed to since summer is slower up here and only making $15 bucks an hour (well we did get a 17% cost of living adjustment, which they called an across the board raise for everyone due to inflation, and p.s. its not a raise its a COLA, remember those? people would get them usually at the first of the year as a cost of living adjustment separate from one’s yearly wage based on performance).

[for more on the wage issues, so my latest post at deep thoughts hard feelings]

so after working my ass off at both jobs for awhile, i. quite the housekeeping gig. it wasn’t an easy decision. besides working with great people, my housing was also tied to that job. so quitting also meant being houseless.

housing is tough up here, like everywhere. pricing isn’t as bad as other places, but since there is hardly any inventory, its not just hard to find a place one can afford, but any place at all.

so i moved back into paco, the truck. she is great. last night we slept out on the mesa with all the stars. this morning we woke to an amazing sunrise and the chomping of big horn sheep nearby.

its a good life i get to live.

now, i have the time to write in the morning before work can sap my energy. and i can get in my fitness time and some reading before i’m too tired to think about anything except food and rest.

so here i am. embarking on a new adventure. i don’t know where this one will take me, but i feel good for the first time in a very long time. i don’t have nearly as much stress. i spend more time out doors, which i love. i have a little money in the bank. i work for a nice family. i found an amazing acupuncturist to help me with some injuries. and i am sleeping better than ever.

so yup. life is good. sure there are the usual life stressors, but now i feel all the better available to be present and flexible enough to face them.

sounds of delight

October 8, 2021March 14, 2022Tagged adventure, adventures, biking, connections, delight, kin, queer, queer vegan adventures, queer writers, relationships, silence, sounds of nature, sounds of silence, vegan, writing4 Comments

i woke in the middle of the night with the sound of wind blowing the trees outside my window in every direction. i’m not sure if it was the incoming storm that made me take notice or if it was the absence of silence. it is so quiet up here until a storm comes in. the wind really rolls up this valley, with the hope of bringing snow or moisture of some kind. today, it also blows in reflections of the soundscapes of my life over the past few years.

as i have moved from place to place and activity to activity these past 5 years or so, i’ve been struck by the sounds that i fall asleep to and the ones i wake to, and the ones that were companions through my days. as i begin re-reading undrowned by alexis pauline grumbs, and working through the ideas, the meditations she presents on black feminist lessons from marine mammals, i have also taken up the practice of waking early and listening to the darkness, in the darkness. what am i listening for? it depends. her practice is to listen for/to her ancestors. at the moment my practice is just to listen, to still my mischievous mind. what i have heard is all the thoughts, but when i do manage to get quiet i hear the elk eating the grass and flowers right outside my window. i hear the bull elk calling to whomever they call to. now i can hear the slight changes in their call depending on how separated the herd has become. this practice has also reminded me of the other beings i have heard through the years when i have been in this morning and evening practice that moves as the sun moves. i actually miss many of these beings deeply and have begun thinking of them as ancestors.

the first sound companions that come to mind were in oregon. i use to wake to a bunch of crows. the humans living in our house began to be able to tell a difference in the sounds certain crows made. one crow, in particular, was able to copy the beeping sound of a neighbor’s car as it was locked or unlocked. it had that beep down! i can’t say i miss them, but i remain more fascinated by crows than i previously was.

walking then biking down the pacific coast, the ocean was my constant companion. it was spring then summer and fall. i watched storms roll in and began to know that she was bringing storms or calm by the shifts in the sounds she created, the rhythm adjusting my rhythm. it was the mysterious near silence that often filled me with awe. one morning waking to fog rolling down the mountains of baja towards a smooth and calm ocean; the surfers sitting on boards on a sea as smooth as glass. the silence was thick. as thick as the fog. as thick as the coffee made by a local woman on the side of the road. thick as my head that wanted to keep going, but…well it made for a good day to mark the turnaround point of that venture.

the next big bike adventure, i don’t really remember the sounds of nature. i was in full suffer mode. the voices in my head followed me around the country. heat exhaustion, tick examinations, mental torture fests day in and day out as i wrestled with unprocessed emotions, grief, depression, thoughts and feelings from the past i don’t even know how many years. in retrospect, i can see i hadn’t dealt with a depression that had set in while still living in portland. the sounds i do hold close to me from that trip are all the conversations and visits i got to enjoy with close friends and oh so many strangers. without those moments, i don’t know where or how i would be now. sounds of community come in many tones. but also there were fireflies, lightning bugs, sparkle butts…whatever you want to call them, and as hard as i tried i could never hear the sounds of their flashing beauty that i have since learned is how they communicate. dusk filled with their messages flashing around the grasslands fills my mind and kinda makes me want to dance.

i think it was las cruces where the sounds of beings got me really going and connecting me to place. first, there was the family dog. i’d be awake waiting for the rest of the house to stir, and i would hear the little pitter-patter of the pup running along the tile to go outside. that sound always got my day moving with a smile. and then there were the birds of all kinds. but it was when i started spending every night out on public lands that connections connected.

i can still remember that first night sleeping out and hearing the coyotes as i began to drift off. eventually, i would learn how to hear their call and response across the valley, especially just after i would experience the sunset. then i would wake just as dawn cracked and there they would be again as i greeted the morning and sun. then it wouldn’t be long before i heard the magical amazing sounds of the desert quail. oh how i love hearing them as they moved around. as i learned the contours of the land, i could picture their fun shapes as they run through the sagebrush and up and down the landscape, disappearing into some bush, all in a row as the adults herded the young ones to safety.

these two beings, with their sounds connected me to the movements of the day. first, it was the sun’s movement. which as i paid more attention to how it moved across the sky by day, then, also by season as it made it’s way south and then back north along the ridge of the organ mountains as the seasons swung us in time. then i could feel my body doing much the same. i started to notice when the moon would rise and set and where. i could start to feel these cycles shifting in me. i would rise each day to greet the sun and be sure to watch her move over the western horizon. if i missed one or the other, i felt off. when i was able to catch all of it, the sun and moon rise and fall…well no matter how challenging the day was, i knew, i felt complete in ways i don’t know if i can explain. all of it complete because of the sounds of the other non-human beings around me. naturally mixed in there were the sounds of various birds migrating through as the seasons moved. the more i paid attention, the more that revealed itself: the sounds of lizards on rocks, the wind moving through a canyon, cows on blm land…

as i began the move to the worst job i’ve ever had, the coyote sounds were traded out for wild burros. i was camping for several days in central arizona and i knew that the area i was considering camping in was full of these wild beings. i began to really love waking to their braying in the early morning, and even if i woke in the middle of the night…they pretty much communicate all dang day, and i really enjoyed it. i had to leave when the sounds of atvs drowned out everything, including my random thoughts.

where we lived in arizona for the worst job ever (i know i need to write about this and i will) i rarely heard coyotes. we did see lots of my beloved desert quail, but they were so quiet. connections there with nature were challenging. i guess this is what happens to a landscape that has just been so extracted: mining, tourism, ranching…the sounds of nature that i do remember the most was the wings of the ravens when visiting the grand canyon, also, the one condor i did finally get to see glide across the sky. there was also the sound of wind…so much wind that brought so many dust devils. some of these fleeting vortexes would get so big and powerful they lifted some of the large canvas tents from their foundations or ripped the sides in half like a piece of paper.

next was montana, at the northern entrance to yellowstone, it had been fairly quiet. i walked along the amazing yellowstone river and its confluence with the gardiner river. i began to hear the shift in water levels, or the way the wind moves down the valley and across the water, or the fish jump, the birds’ wings as they fly in to catch a meal. i see and hear wildlife everywhere. but shortly after that first moment in early september, you know that moment that the sun has moved just enough that you witness shifts in light and shadows. this moment marks fall for me every year, not the calendar, but that moment i see that the light shifted. it is one of my favorite times of year. anyway, not long after that moment of movement, the elk, always present, took over the town. and just like that, it is rutting season. the bull elk are with the rest of the herds moving in this area, and they are very talkative. it is now their sounds that fill my days and nights. if i pay attention, i can hear them move around the valley. it is helping me connect with this shift in season. just before i left i was gifted with the sound, finally, of the howl of a yellowstone wolf. my one wish while here was to see or hear a wolf, and i got to experience both. talk about feeling connected!

it is these sounds that pull me in and connect me with the ebbs and flows of life. it is what keeps me from spinning out from the world that has felt in constant chaos. it slows me down and makes me pay attention. these connections fill me with a deeper sense of community. helps me answer my questions on who are my ancestors, and what are they trying to tell me. helps me feel part of something i can not name when i hear the massive cliffs lecture me on all the things. or when i hear the stories whisper in my ear from the wind. or the awe-inspired when i finally got to witness a wolf walk right by me as i prepared to walk the same trails they follow. these are the moments when i know i can greet my aunt, my grandparents, friends and lovers, people i’ve known in this life, and those i’ve never met, the animals who have walked with me, and pals i haven’t talked to for a while. a place that no matter how lost i feel in life, i know i am on a good path full of many who have passed before reminding me what a damn fine life i have.

these are the events that fill me with delight.

they have also filled me with the beginning hints of purpose and voice. these sounds bring to light the times i have been silent. when i have not used my voice, my experiences, my truths. there are many reasons for these silences, even when i shouted “silence = death” during the early days of the AIDS pandemic. even with all the times and ways i have chosen to “come out”. this work i have been doing in the dark silence is becoming my next big adventure and is what will be influencing the changes in the writing you will be finding here in the future. i hope you come along with me, as we are all connected.

sunrise

February 6, 2021Tagged adventure, climate, climate change, desert, fujifilmxt20, meditation, midlife crisis, new mexico, privilege, queer, queer vegan adventures, queer writers, relationships, sunrises, vegan, walking, women who adventure, writing2 Comments

i know it has been awhile since i have written anything here. it is not for the lack of adventures, not by a long way. i just haven’t known how to write about them. the desert changes me every time i take a breath of the magical air. the sand and grit gets into my pours. the light shifts how i see. all of it absorbed into my being…it changes my perspective. but i think i figured out a way to start talking about it, and i will let the sunris explain.

today paco, the truck, and i woke up in a different town for the first time in over a year (well except for a little backpacking trip to the gilas that may or may not included my 2nd encounter with search and rescue, but that is another story for another time).

i wanted a get away. a place i could get some writting done, dig deep into some research that i’ve been pecking at for awhile now, and sneak in a hot spring soak…..or 3. so i pointed the truck in a direction and drove for a little over an hour. and booked a little bungalow for a week. they call it a bungalow, it is a tiny little one room with the kitchen and bathroom all in the same space, but it is mine for the week and i am very happy.

so today i woke like i usually do, before the break of dawn, litterly. the sky hadn’t even changed from it’s mightnight blue yet. so i made some tea because, well i am a mear few steps from a fully loaded kitchen, and don’t have to break up the ice in my water jug. i take the steaming cup outside for some breaths as the sky shifts into a new day.

and for some reason, today, it hits me. how long have i been doing this, greeting the sun? when i tell people i’ve been up for hours, some have actually laughed at me, my silence could only mean i was asleep. them not realizing i’ve heard them get up, make the coffee, turn on the tv or radio. that i go to sleep in a way that allows me a glimpse of the sky, even if there is no way for me to see east, i watch the light shift. i lay there and think, stew, embrace the stillness, the quiet that i won’t find again for hours upon hours.

but today i am wondering when this started? i know it wasn’t those years in the pacific northwest where i went days without seeing the sun, just different shades of grey merging in and out of a darkness that never really got black or deep dark blue of the night. it certainly wasn’t all those years of tending bar, closing co-ops, late-night social times where i would see the sun rise as i finally ended my day.

that is a different kind of witness to the sunrise, watching it come up as i go down. it is almost like a relay race, or an exchange, ok you are here now, i can go. as if i just had to make sure there would be a day even if i failed to participate. and i was rarely alone in these moments. someone from the night’s adventures, maybe the whole crew. as if the rise of the sun could signal us to eat breakfast then pass out from exhaustion and glee.

no. this greeting is something completely different. something almost magical. mystical. i feel cheated if i miss it or the rare grey day hides the moment. there is something that grounds me in this moment of this greeting. i feel connected, at least for a moment, to the greater world, to my breath maybe? to the bird songs perhaps? to the coyotes howlng one final time before they scamper off? the owls that make the occasional appearance? the hope of rain in the clouds? the message in the wind? the deep booming silience found in the desert? to the something i can not name but am deeply indebted to for the magic of this world we get to inhabit?

what i am beginning to realize is that this is the moment that puts me firmly into my body. it makes me pay attention. i hear my breathing, wanting the breath to be clean air. i take the first drinks of water to break my fast of the night, and i want it to be clean water. i set my mind on these things so that the choices i make for the day are so that i and all the beings seen and not, heard and not, that we all have clean air, water, food. that we, as we end meditation with, be at ease, know peace, and be free from suffering.

this practice of greeting the day to start my day, a new day of new potentials connects me to me, and thus me to my environment. this connection holds me accountable to my responsibility to hold up my end of the agreement of interconnectedness. and no matter what happens the rest of the day, i have this moment to hold me as a place of gratitude, relative safety, and a type of love. and i can not believe i get to receive this gift.

all this has infected how i move through my adventures these days, as well as how and what adventures i am choosing. and now i think i can write about them.

as always, thanks for reading

ometeotl

eugene

November 27, 2019November 27, 2019Tagged adventure, bike, bike touring, biking, fujifilmxt20, oregon, queer, queer vegan adventures, queer writers, queers on bikes, relationships, rivers, vegan, women who adventure, writing

so much has happened. eugene, surprisingly inspiring for me. i spent 3 months here, and once i gave up on the idea that i would or should get a job, i welled up with creative ideas. plus, PLUS, i arrived to adventure buddies, and adventure we did!

first off, i don’t want you think i barged into my friends’ lives for 3 whole months. i have my faults, but that i did not do. i did reach out to the local hostel and did some work-trade for a bunk, so i guess i did sort of get a job, but it was 4 hour shifts 5 days a week, so not so bad. and it was super easy for me to request to work/not work certain times to go adventure. also, i met even more people moving around this world in different ways for so many reasons, reasons i will be exploring in many ways.

as for the creativity that opened up in me once i recovered from logistics hangover, i am still amazed at how much i am giving in to it. it could be the space i am creating and plans i am laying out so that i don’t spend precious mental space worrying and fretting. but i have started having dreams at least once a month about ideas and directions that i want the book/story/potential series i am working on. things i haven’t been able to work out during waking hours.

i have also taken the time to teach myself how to draw, or should i say let youtube videos teach me to open up to the possibilities that i can create with pencils and pens..maybe water colors. i have never let myself do this. art supply stores intimidate me. i have looked at art classes, but was shy and afraid of not being good enough to share, and they always make you share.

so i have taken one of my dry bags and filled it with my journal, sketch pad, and a pen and pencils…my little art bag. it is so fun. sometimes when i am on a hike or some such fun activity, i don’t always want to write, or the words won’t come to describe my thoughts and feelings, so i draw it. i has effected all aspects of my expressive outlets. my photography benefits as i adjust for lighting or looking for the small details. same for my writing. if i am imagining a scene to write about, i can sketch out not just what i see, but people, lighting, feeling tones for the place come to life sort of speak and fill in what i’ve been missing. its great! also, it is yet one more thing that i can use to procrastinate what i am “suppose” to be doing now. so win win!

adventures! so many!

first, i got there and eugene was having a late summer pride event! it reminded those of us who came out in the 80s and 90s of those smaller community prides we use to have. ones that were free instead of 20 bucks or more and use local area entertainers instead of big names that blow the community’s budget for other things. i do appreciate both for different reason, but definitely love the smaller community feel.

my fellow bike adventure friend took me on a bike path tour one day. showing me how to get to the river trails, what streets are good for getting to favorite breweries and bike spaces. then he left to visit family and left the two of us alone to mischief. the other pal in this crew is more of a walker, so we walked all over the town. he showed me how to get around to the parks and buttes to walk and wonder. we went to the museum, heard some music, and he introduced me to some of the friends the two of them had made since being in eugene. this was the first time the 2 of us had so much time with just the 2 of us, that we really got to know one another even deeper. such a special time i can’t even express.

the adventures i had in eugene were mixed with solo and buddies. it has been so long since i had an adventure buddy, i forgot how much fun it could be. the adventures i had with my friend in kansas city was remarkable, but it was piece of my longer plans. also, with all the flooding, the planing was different. so planning micro-adventures with someone was just so fun.

eugene does have a wonderful public transit system that reaches out to nearby communities, including the mckenzie river ranger district, so i took a couple trips out there to wonder the river woods and hot springs. we took the bus down to cottage grove to bike the covered bridge route and play around those little towns. all for the cost of a regular bus ride of $1.75 or $3.50 for a day. i also rode my bike out to springfield fairly often for the fun of riding the river trail out to have a beer or for big queer yoga on friday nights.

i can’t say enough just how beautiful this valley is. how easy it is to so any different unique nature places from ancient forest to high deserts and mountains. hot springs and ice cold rivers.

i do have to say getting back to the trails up and around the sisters wilderness was pretty great. my buddies had decided to get in a backpacking trip before school kicked back into gear for the year. so we decided to rent a car and i would drop them off and we’d camp out together for a night. then i would get another car and pick them up and we’d have a little hike and adventure on the way back. there had been a fire recently where i walked them into the start of the loop they were doing. it was eery for sure, but still so beautiful. i feel fortunate to have experienced this forest in both situations, and to see the freshness of the fire mixed with the growth already returning. it was so soothing to be back up there smelling those piney forests and absorbing high altitude sunshine. catching the views of the first snow setteling on the peaks of the sisters’ peaks.

sitting by those high altitude lakes i was able to do more internal exploration of what is my responsibility to these areas that i both recreate in, and have reverence for. it is where i am refreshed, renewed, and fills me spiritually. it is a deep relationship that i feel whatever “wilderness” i am in, and it should be, needs to be a reciprocal relationship. so what is my responsibility? what do i have to give back to these forms of kin?

settleing in eugene for the winter is certainly a tempting thought, but there are many dark sides to this little city, besides nike. certainly here was the first time on this trip i truly felt unsafe. it was the topic of many conversations i had here. it was a tough topic to talk about because it could go in many ways and we wanted to make sure that people knew that we weren’t talking about the fear of the high rates of houseless folks living on the streets and in tents by the river. it is mostly in white men and not just the drunken frat boys. there is a high rate of people on meth and other drugs that are unpredictable who will do about anything for their next fix. it is a complicated topic that goes deeper into a myriad thread of our social ills in this country.

on the flip side, i think that being in eugene was more of a coming home than being in portland for a few weeks, but we’ll talk about that when i do a portland adventure wrap up. but that will be after our overnight to the coast #optoutside!

philly

October 20, 2019October 20, 2019Tagged adventures, bike, bike touring, biking, friends by bike, fujifilmxt20, gender, philly, queer, queer vegan adventures, queer writers, queers on bikes, relationships, rivers, vegan, women who adventure, writing

where to start.

i could go the linear way…today and the next…i could group it into activities…my thoughts i had there…humm

well let’s start with getting oriented and see what happens.

i left off with the arrival to philly, getting the basic rulelessness of philly and eating dive take-out chinese food that really hit the spot. i met the roommate and the house doggo. we caught up a bit before it was passed time to get some sleep.

i woke and listened to the city around me, then i got a text from with-in the house. it surprised me at first, but eventually i came to enjoy the quiet interactions from the comfort of soft clothes. usually it was an update on work schedules, ideas for the daily activities…

everyone went to work and it was just me and mr. dog. to get my bearings i went for a walk around the neighborhood. i found the local punk coffeeshop/cafe with lots o’vegan options (p.s. i really enjoyed this place and it was below a super cool bike shop that mostly i watched people of color go up and down the stairs with every day bikes and wearing regular clothes). i also found the all vegan donut shop, (yum), and the local co-op that i had heard a great deal about (not all good not all bad).

at some point i texted another friend of mine that i lived with for a minute back in the portland years who had moved to philly. we made plans to get together while i was in town. we had a good catch-up and they let me know about a couple of actions happening around the city that i would end up going to.

this first day (and most days i was there) the sun was shining. it was hot, but not humid and super hot. this part of west philly reminded me of portland 10 to 15 years ago. especially north portland. perhaps it is because of the cusp of rapidly encroaching gentrification of a historically black neighborhood. i could see myself trying to find a way to spend the summer here. these first few days it was super tempting to look at job and housing options for the season.

that night we met some of my friends’ friends for happy hour at the taco place and chowed on vegan nachos and margaritas…yum. the conversations were fun and lively with lots of laughter and smiles. it is always nice to get to know my friends other friends, especially friends who don’t live in the same place i do…to know friends are well cared for and loved is a wonderful feeling to me. also, one of the women hails from russia. while in n.c. i read part of a book on the oral history of punk music in russia that my friend did the cover art for. she actually knew some of the bars and places in the book. it was a super cool connection.

our days together were spent in lovely relaxed (to me anyway) ways. we went to the museum. saw a wonderfully disturbing exhibit as well as the rocky statue and footprints. it was remarkable to me how many people come to the museum just to see the rocky statue, so much so they moved the statue from the top of the stairs (you know where he ran up in the first rocky) to down and off to the side of the stairs. we walked the historic streets of philly (once crashing the filming of some t.v. show we had never heard of). we talked and caught up on what’s been happening in our lives, our minds, our hearts. we ate good food, consumed good beverages, and had lots of fun.

the moments we were off doing our own things, i walked the streets of philly, explored so many varied parts of histories that philly holds from pre-revolution to social justice actions, including an action against ICE that i went to with the other friend i have here. all the walking and wondering, the pouring over maps that listed important names as the names of parks or centers: malcolm x, paul robeson, du bois, MOVE, and mumia just to name a few. i tried to get to the edgar allen poe house, but just couldn’t get make the time for all the things.

one day i was walking around the historic area where independence hall is and the liberty bell, historic homes that had “servants quarters” i.e. slaves. i rounded a corner and spotted the “first bank” of the u.s. it stopped me in my tracks and i read the plaque. it talked about how it was proposed as a way to pay of the huge debt that this new founded country now had due to the war for “independence.” within just a few blocks i would run into at least the first 5 banks in the country. the last couple i ran into trying to escape the area. i was overwhelmed by the obviousness of the connection between war and banks and the merchant class and just how much we have not changed at all, the cycle this country spins to keep the capitalists of capitalism in control of the labor class. i needed to get away and clear my head.

there is a park by the house of the statue of liberty so i found a shady place and sat and calmed my thoughts and did a favorite activity of mine, people watch. there were people of all backgrounds speaking many languages, and i could not calm down. it was much more like a punch. normally this is a scene that warms me from the inside, but with the fascist want-to-be dictator that the u.s. has as a president right now, i was embarrassed (?), saddened (?), pissed for sure. that we as a country of immigrants (unless you are native american), that we would do any less than welcome those seeking refuge with open arms, is outrageous to me. granted these were tourists with some level of privilege ($$ everything in independence area cost money to enter except the liberty bell), and most likely would not have border issues when trying to return “home”, but i held some doubts for sure.

it was decided that we would take a day to go to the roommate’s parents house in jersey to swim, and break the city’s heat, so refreshing. what a great idea, go play and splash in a pool during the heatwave. it was a super fun day. we swam. we drank. we ate. we played games. we watched a couple thunderstorms roll by. we drove back to philly during another storm, tuckered out. i fell into a deep sleep.

i woke with the urgency of needing to make plans to get moving again. i couldn’t stay in philly. maybe i will return one day. there was a deep part of me that wanted to stay and see what i could get involved in, but i had a deeper need to get back west of the rockies. no matter how hard i try, i am not an east side of the country kind of kid. also, i could tell by the conversation i had with many people that i would most likely fall in to the cycle of working too much to make ends meet and consume things i don’t want to in the long run, and not make the time and space for the creative ventures i am trying to get started and move ever more forward.

eventually i found the route that would take me west. i chatted with my pals in oregon to make plans for my landing. and then i relaxed into my final few days in philly, and this led me to some great conversations that helped me work out some of my thoughts i’d been having while there.

my friend and i had a conversation one night about whether living so close to the deep history of the neighborhood, and racist history of philly, lent to having a sense of responsibility to that history? it is related, i think, to how i feel about living so close to nature and feeling a responsibility to protecting and making responsible choices in how i move around in my life. i mean, i can’t imagine white people calling the cops on black folks while having a picnic in malcom x park…just sayin’ but if gentrification keeps happening…

another night, at the first micro-brewery in philly that is right next to the punk cafe, i chatted with the bartender. he had recently returned to philly after going to school on the west coast. he was able to give himself the time and space to return and and come out to his family and the challenges of being a young gay black man in west philly (and the world). we talked about many things, including the similarities he is witnessing from his time in oakland and being back in philly around gentrification, housing, and wages.

but make no mistake, my last days weren’t all politics and heavy conversations. i ate a lot of vegan foods…went to the straight edge pizza place for amazing vegan “wings”. i had all the vegan treats i could get in my mouth. we went to an irish punk bar for some tasty vegan snacks and good beers. p.s. i do love me a good irish punk bar.

the morning of my departure was to be early, so we said our so longs the night before. i had decided to bike to amtrak instead of waking my friend and loading up the car for a ride to the station. this would be the only time i would bike in philly, and i am glad i did. i had been wanting to ride, but touring bikes are not really city prepared as everything is quick-release aka easy to steal. i rode away in the early morning during rush-hour traffic in busy bike lanes. it was a beautiful morning and a nice ride.

while waiting at the red cap post to be directed to where to load my bike i met a nun from a west philly church who encouraged me to get confirmed or something like that, just to be safe, like an insurance policy for my soul i guess. she was very nice about it. i told her i’m more along the lines of buddhist. she assured me that was ok, but i should still get to a catholic church. she reminded me of what dorothy day of the catholic worker movement might have been a little like. i also met a couple that would be on the train with me all the way to sacramento. little did we know what was in store for us in the coming days.

a couple of side notes. after getting into eugene, i read that the chinese restaurant we went to closed it’s doors the end of that month. rent was getting too high. the owner told the story of his family coming to the united states, and the support he has had since arriving in philly.

i also learned why a pizza shop i had tried to go to a couple times, but had a paper note that they were closed. seems that the staff believed the owners had fired a black employee for racially motivated reasons, so the staff locked up shop. the sister bar/restaurant did the same a couple days later in support. well that explained my confusion, and also reinforced my feelings that people were taking actions and not just sitting in meetings talking about the theory of racist management practices.

i can’t express just how much i am grateful for this friend, and this visit. we’ve known each other for over 20 years now i guess. we met when i lived in syracuse, and this is the second time we visited in person since i left ny. there are for sure gaps in our knowledge of the others’ experiences in those years, yet our friendship has stayed important and strong to us both. who knows where we will meet next.

i can’t wait to tell you about the adventures i’ve been having in oregon!

from the south to the east

September 27, 2019Tagged adventure, biking, friends by bike, queer writers, queers on bikes, queers on trains, relationships, writingLeave a comment

from my friends in north carolina, i did a one-way car rental to a city with a train station to get to philly with bike in tact. as i pulled out of the rental car place, i stopped at a local brewery to get my bearings and have a snack. i hadn’t exactly decided which way to get to charlotte, or where to stay when i got there. at the brewery i sat outside with a view of a creek, and in the distance i could see what i found out later, a huge community garden. this little town has much to offer.

as i sat there looking, thinking, and planning the woman next to me struck up a conversation. i’m not sure how it started, but she said she had recently decided to “go vegan” and this place has some great options. soon the conversation switched to community and how conservative the next town over is. her “boy friend” joined in for a little while. he is a health educator in the school district and the conversation got detoured a little. yet, we got a little deeper into the perception people out side of the south have about the people who live in the south and just how wrong that is, and it is true and troubling.

i think this falls into my idea of political false sense of security, and the pacific northwest, and all liberally identified towns/cities are guilty of this. it is part of what the denial has led to the flourishing of fascists hate crimes in places that refused for so long to believe it could happen here. anway, it was a good way to get sent off and out of the south, but first charlotte.

well first, cherokee north carolina.

i should have taken more time here, like a day, and gone to the cherokee nation museum run by the reservation. i should have. instead i drove through the town. through the gross tourism businesses with awful names and mascots and symbols. i did stop by the park by the river and watched the families swim and cool off even while it rained. it wasn’t hard to imagine this relatively flat open area of the river being popular as a gathering place for various families and “tribes” of the cherokee pre trail of tears and genocide. i walked the banks until the rain got too heavy for a comfortable drive.

the short time in charlotte was fairly uneventful. i didn’t ever really feel comfortable in this town. i got into town and found the amtrak station, then where i would return the rental car, the searched for a cheap place to stay that was an easy logistical equation to solve…that included a place to consume good food.

it was quickly apparent where infrastructure money went with just a short drive from the train station through downtown. one side had pot holes that would eat a car, the other smooth paved roads, light rail lines, and bike lanes. i had to find a way to navigate both. i checked into a cheap hotel, dropped off the car, walked to an interesting place for dinner….a brewery (are you really surprised). this space was actually pretty unique. it is in an older wherehouse type district, but all the buildings look more like airplane hangers. where i pulled up a stool is actually shared by 3 breweries, and is huge. there is so much space inside. outside had all kinds of “lawn” games, fire rings, and picnic tables all being well utilized. inside had t.v.s (so many t.v.s in in american pubs i.e. public spaces). they also have a video game lounge with fancy gaming devices and big screens. seems like a neat idea to merge breweries into a space to share resources (including a pretty good menu) but with different style beers.

i must confess, though the walk was only going to be 20 minutes to the hotel, i took a lift ride. i was so tired, and the sun had just set, and i had to be up around 5 am to check out and make my way to the train station.

the morning was gorgeous. it was still so hot, but the sunrise and moonset created so many amazing colors in the sky. i ended up taking the light rail as far as i could through downtown, and then biked some residential backroads i found to avoid as many road craters as possible in the dark. got to the station early only to find out we would be leaving at least an hour late…and the train adventures began.

i ended up 5 hours or so late into philly. thank goodness for friends you like the night life, and taught me the first rules of philly, break all rules.

when she picked me up at the train station, she just pulled over in this odd little nook, we threw my bike and bags in the car. she then explained that people in philly do what they need to do, to accomplish what they need to accomplish, especially parking.

as we entered west philly (baby) she pointed out some points of history and places i may have heard of, the world cafe (npr), osage street (the one time america bombed itself. you may have heard of the MOVE 9)…my tired eyes tried to take it all in while watching the lights and cyclists bike the city, as i relaxed into being back in the presence of this person who has known me for so long.

naturally we double parked to pick up the food she ordered earlier. as she jumped out of the car she quickly turned back and said, “don’t talk to strangers!” what? laughing, that is kind of what i do!

philly is going to be fun! stay tuned (i listed to a lot of whyy)

beyond asheville

September 15, 2019Tagged adventure, bike, bike touring, biking, climate, hiking, meditation, north carolina, queer, queer vegan adventures, relationships, writers, writing, wtf1 Comment

the pals i stayed with on the west end of north carolina are some of the best people this world has set in my path. we shared good food. we shared lovely inspiring conversation. we shared quiet times on the deck watching trees, the light shift and change, the plants and botony adjusting to the heat, storms roll through, puppy adoration for a canine who is now part of their family, walks in the woods every day witnessing the constint changes of places people think of as consistant. there is something special that happens to this spirit when i see my pals, friends, buddies, those i love, doing what they love/building and achieving their goals: working on building the skills and practicing to make dreams come true, building the life they envision…lifting people up….there is so much here that i have no words for, but i will carry with me for a long long time.

these daily/multi-daily walks/hikes were so inspiring. we chatted about what it is like to walk the same paths on a regular basis through the seasons, to see all the changes. just in this one week we saw a change in where and what mushrooms were growing, or some new flowers starting to bloom on the trees and bushes.

these walks and chats had an enormous effect on me. first i reflected on land and my relationship to place. where have i thought i “knew” the land because i walked it one day in one season in a particular year. was it a wet/dry year? hot? stormy? flooded? low river or high? somewhere in-between? migration season? north or south? for whom? even if it is for a week or a month, it is still only just one snapshot of a place. is that enough to build a relationship with the land or to develop a sense of place. i think that is part of why i do like to get to, and set up, camp early in the day vs. making the miles, passing out, and waking early to start it all over again. to walk. to sit. to listen. to watch. who moves through here? what grows here? how does the pollen move? do i have time and enough information to learn of the people who moved through here before settlers/colonizers/capitalists/agriculture/towns/mining? what story does the land have to tell me? what is the language of the land.

the other piece of this experience is that now i have an even deeper desire to develop a sense of place. i want to be able to see some place if not every day, then every other day. i want to see the changes. i want to see those first red, yellow, orange, brown leaves of fall. the first buds of spring that actually show themselves in winter. learn the path of the sun/moon. i want to build and develop a relationship with at least one little piece of land. town or not wherever i rest again, it has to be convenient to get to some living piece of land. in other words, not have to drive an hour or bike too far. even better if i can just take a short stroll that leads me to a longer one. its all part of learning how to see/listen/experience/smell/noticing…all the things that make me a better animal, more feral you might say.

~~~

one day, while one of them was in class, i borrowed their car and followed the road that followed the river. so beautiful. i went until i found a riverside park that people put their boats, rafts, kayaks, whatevers in to float. there are 2 signs here. one tells the history of how the “cherokee” hid in the rhoadundrum bushes to avoid being sent to the oklahoma indian territories as part of the indian removal act in the journey known as the train of tears. on the other side of the park is a sign acknowledging the white man who “gifted” this land for “the people” to enjoy. it is dedicated to his wife and children who died before he did. it is part of what i find funny (?) about public lands, that what was once stolen from people who had no concept of owning land can be given back to “the people to enjoy” but not to the people who previously lived on the land prior to european settlers/colonizers. public lands is a term that is being tossed around a great deal right now, and not a conversation to take lightly for many reasons. these thoughts are not meant to take away from the beauty of this land, but to add to just how wonderfully magnificent this river valley and mountain range is.

~~~

after wondering around, i went back to the river center. they have wifi and thereby i could get some phone services to know when my friend was ready for me to come on back. i thought i might sit by the river and write, but all i could really do was watch. i watched the people, the rain, the boats, the water shift and move, people practice various moves in various floatations – it is like a dance. ever since i learned that water crossings are best to do earlier in the day because they rise as the snow melts and the mountain gives up more liquid to the stream, i try and watch it and see if i can notice it going up. i mean this is something i have witnessed but through a day as we crossed a stream early in the day to play and picnic in a meadow. when we came back late in the day, the crossing was indeed more difficult, deeper and more swift. for sure a more difficult, more technical crossing where we helped one another work their way back to camp. it indeed was a wonderful day.

leaving north carolina behind would not be easy, but that is the only way i was going to get up to philly for the next friend visit…so stay tuned as you are hopefully engulfing on a summer adventure of your own.

retracing good times

August 21, 2019Tagged adventure, bike, climate, climate change, meditation, queer, queer vegan adventures, queer writers, queers on bikes, relationships, writers, writing2 Comments

as i clean up and insert pics in this post, it is raining the nice specifically pacific northwest kind of rain. you know, it is too heavy to go with out a jacket of some kind but not enough to zip it up. the kind that drives drivers nuts because you can never get the wipers just right, always too slow or too fast.

we had been watching the weather, hoping and getting excited as the chance for rain increased each day. last night we i mused that i felt like a kid a christmas, excited for the morning to see what would happen. then the morning, it happened. while we were out for breakfast. we looked out just as we were about to walk home. so wonderful. and it is suppose to continue through the day.

ok so here i am going to start writing about all the good times that got over shadowed by the challenges and struggles i face, for there was so much fun and laughter, and that is what kept me going….

once i saw thelma and the sleeze where going to be playing at the hanger in carbondale, i was tempted to hang longer. finally some music i love and relate to. but really that was all that was tempting. i was able to eat pretty good at the co-op, but it was time to go. so i bus tailed it outta there.

the overnight in knoxvile, as i have said was fun. the city market area with the art, and food, and bike race monitors, fountains for kids, and being designed as a pedestrain “mall” was super nice. to walk and wonder without having to worry about cars is always a treat.

the walking and wondering with freedom encouraged more walking wondering and exploring. i went up streets, down street. i wondered alleyways and shop windows. all the murals in the alleys led me to more alleys and city perspectives.

i’ve always loved alleys. it reminds me of being a kid. the first house i remember remember as a youngen had an alley. we cut through to friends’ houses, playing hide n seek, check what games friends were playing before they knew we were there. it was also the furthest view point for adults to find us, or for people to think to look for us for any reason. it is also a great way to check on the neighbors’ gardens. then there is the unused, dirt floor garages that no one used except us for shenanigans.

i’ve only had a few homes since that had alleys, but i always enjoy them. portland had some good alleys. wondering pals who enjoy meandering through alley ways are priceless, and it is good to know i have a few.

it seems, based on my little trip, that more cities are utilizing their alleys for more than just a place for dumpsters and smoke breaks. i have found wonderful mural art projects, one might call city art-scapes? i like it. here in eugene google maps often sends seem through alleys. and some store fronts/brewery entry points are in alleys. so good.

so from knoxville, i went to asheville. i made the big decision to stay a week in ashville. it was the week of 4th of july….not a fan of this day of nationalistic celabration especially how nationalism is playing out these days. so i hunkered down in asheville with some international travelers and misfits. also the women’s world cup was entering the final rounds and there are fun places to watch such events here.

the hostel i stayed at is in the heart of downtown, down a narrow alley like street actually. everywhere i went was .4 miles (aka a 20 minute walk) according to google maps. i was near vegan restaurants, a co-op, so many good breweries, coffee shops and 2 tea shops, multiple book stores, music venues, and a vegan punk cafe that was so flipping great on so many levels. it is kind of how i imagine the red and black cafe could have been if they could have held it together better.

rosetta’s, the punk cafe, had an upstairs and a downstairs if you entered on a certain street. the upstairs is at street level one street over. the upstairs is kind of told school order at the counter kind of place with self serve stations and a beautiful copper pipe and tile water station that i wish i had taken a picture of. downstairs is like a regular table service kind of place. both have the same menu.

i had such a hard time deciding what i wanted. everything being vegetarian or vegan, and most things could be made vegan. would it be nachos? comfort food? healthy bowl? salad? or what really sold me on the cafe the pay it forward rice and bean bowl.

the pay it forward bowl, actually called beans and rice under the heading everybody eats, is set up as a sliding scale meal and they let you know how much pays for the meal to what would allow someone else to eat if they didn’t currently have the currency. i think this simplifies the whole sliding scale healthy food and water as a right not privlage kind of action vs. philosophy/theory. it is offering an option to a community while holding boundries that allow them to stay in business without giving up their ethics and values so that they can contribute more. it is a fine line and a tight-rope to walk. also the people who worked there were all super nice and not at all snarky the whole time i was there, everytime i was there, regardless of who they were serving.

then there is the actual setting of the place. great art and murals on the walls, walls and stairway FULL of poster and flyers of events, bands, actions, community groups and organizations, calendars for other places having punk rock trivia fund raisers for trans folks at the southern border needing/wanting leagal or/and basic needs met. a zine library was in a very visable corner next to the condiment stand. it was clean with out being starial. it is a place i felt comfortable in as a dirt-bag and as a cleaned-up kid out for a good meal that wouldn’t make me feel like a sell-out for eating out.

the places i watched the world cup were fun and energetic. i high-fived strangers. we held one anothers palces as we went to the bathroom. we made a group food run when we realized bloody mary’s started before we remembered we hadn’t been awake long enough to eat. it was one of the few times i was around some sporty dykes that felt super comforable to finally talk about our sports-ball experiences while in school. most of us, at least in my age group, we pretty shamed out of sports, especially team sports. may be why i prefered individual sports like track. let me be and i will run my ass off, stretch longer while everyone else hits the locker room. or finish faster so that i can get in and out before the rest of the “team”. i was tired of being made fun of or being baited about attractions or crushes. i loved the sports, but i hated all the rest that went with it. eventurally i just used an injury that wouldn’t heal (pulled muscles in my knee training indoors), and needing to work as a reason to drop out. very real reasons, but if i had felt supported/safe, who knows. i’m also not a very competitive person, so probably would have still quite. seeing the portland thornes play during pride weekend one year, that was pretty special. seeing professional women on the pitch and in the stands be out and open…rainbow thorne flags…it was something to experience. i felt much more proud there then being at the ubber corporate sponsored “pride” parade held earlier that day.

one evening at the hostel i met this interesting woman is in her late 60s and is just discovering the joys of solo travel, and is toying with the idea of becoming untethered herself. her husband died a couple years ago, so why not sell the house and move into some kind of camper type situation and see the country. she spent her time at the hostel asking anyone she could how, why, where they venture, whatever question was on her mind. it was fun to see her open to so many possibilities.

i also met a guy who practices chinesse medicine in l.a. he comes to asheville every so often for continuing education. turns out we know some of the same practicioners and share some of the same theories of healing. i left him some of the foods that i thought might not make the hot journey to my friends.

i did really fall for asheville. i can see the attraction and why people have reccomended it to me so many times. i have thought about it as an option. i checked out cost of living, housing, jobs, access to nature and wildness. it could be a livable city option for me. yet something just seemed off. not quite right for me. it is a big city. bigger than i expected and full of tourists, like actual tourists and not just visitors, so…there is that. but it is closer to some great pals that i got to have a wonderful visit with.

life and threats on trains

August 11, 2019August 11, 2019Tagged adventure, biking, grief, meditation, queer, queer vegan adventures, queers on bikes, queers on trains, relationships, writing, wtf1 Comment

i am jumping some stories. mostly i just need to get this one out of my head.

trying to find the way i wanted to travel west with my bike for the least amount of money as soon as possible was my mission. after pouring over options that just were not going to work, finally one popped up.

it would take me early wednesday morning to mid-day sunday, but i could load my bike up without the need to box it up. seemed good. i packed some foods and beverages and prepared to be able to just kick back, write, read, look out the window and day dream. what more could a kid ask for?

philly to chicago was fairly uneventful, in fact, was delightful thanks to the woman i was sitting next to. her youngest child had finished high school, so now it is her time to do whatever, so instead of the kids leaving the nest, she left.

she had seen me run around the station with my bike and that is what started our conversations and connection, leading many more. she got rid of as much of her life as she could and is moving to montana where her eldest child lives. she loves to bike, run, swim, and basically just be out of doors. she “hates the city”. we would go to the lounge car for our own happy hour moments, a night cap, or morning coffee. our conversations always shifting and changing, or involving whomever decided to chime in. upon arrival in chicago we both had a four hour layover, so we went out in search of salads for lunch, and wine for her to take to her sleeper car for her next train ride. we helped each other find our next trains, exchange contacts and say so long. a very delightful 30 hours.

while waiting for the next train, the califonia zepher, i ran into another person loading their bike. we didn’t really chat until we were waiting to take our bikes to the baggage car to hand up to the loaders. i should have known this leg was going to be an interesting one. we didn’t get to hand hand our bikes up to the baggage people. we had to lay them down in a different baggage car, and the guy that was showing us which car to load on to, made it clear that he did not appreachiate bikes on trains. did he know that we most likely would not be using the train if it weren’t for the ability to bring our bikes? later, when i was trying to claim my bike, i kept getting sent back and forth until they finally listened to me about where i had put my bike a couple days before.

the conductors on this first section of this train were just rude. they treated us all like we were misbehaving children before we even left the station. later i would wish that they would actually address the parents of the children running over people all day and night. i spent a good deal of the time either in the observation car or the cafe beneath it. here i met so many people studying or practicing so many different kinds of physics. our conversations were amusing. to me it was about who was so certain of their knowledge vs. who acted curious and inquisitive. i also met a cycling guy from england who had also over heated and decided to go west. we both felt validated by our decisions based on our conversations. we both asked and listened, gaining insight from one anothers’ experience. so nice.

infact that was something that followed throughout this train ride. certainity vs curiosity. traveling through lands that i knew very well and over hearing people sharing information with their traveling companions about what things were or did, and being so very incorrect. one person actually tried to argue with me about sunflowers. insisting that they were mustard seed plants. i didn’t aruge. why would i? didn’t seem worth it, but it did lead me to this whole different internal dialogue about who knows what and how do we know what we believe we know and why do we cling to that knowledge so tightly?

is this how we end up so certain in our believes? in our own dogma? what makes some so certain and others open to different or alternate possibilities? is it possible to move from firm dogma to open possibilities? i was thinking all these thoughts as we were moving through various canyons of the colorado river. there was a bear, a fox (again arguments about fox or coyote), and some mooning from river rafters.

then we were back to the desert. we had entered navada and those getting off in reno were very excited. we were running a few hours late due to the need for amtrak to yield to rail/cargo trains. however, about an hour from reno things would change.

the engineer, or lead conductor was on the intercome giving us updates on times and various pieces of information about the gorgous forested lands we would once again be traveling through when all of a sudden the trains emergency breaking system kicked in and gasps came over the speakers.

soon we were told that there was some kind of mechanical issue and that they were going to do an inspection of the train and then get back to us. having the same kind of thing happen just outside of philly, i doubted that this was the truth. i should also mention that a rail train was stopped on the tracks next to us, heading east, and also at a stop.

the train outside philly stopped for a long time because there was a fear that we hit some trespassers on the tracks. i couldn’t help but think that something of the sort had happend here. we were pretty close to a major highway (and i had just seen a person on a bicycle peddling by wishing i could get to my bike and peddle away).

eventually they told us that we did indeed hit a “trespasser” and that we needed to stay and make sure that the “trespasser” was ok (they never mentioned if it was a human or non-human animal, it was always the trespasser). eventually, naturally, we noticed the various vehicals showing up and since we were the last car of the train and all the action was directly behind us, we knew some kind of shit happened.

couple of hours later we are told that we did hit a “trespasser” and that we “were waiting for the coroner before we could leave.” then we had to wait for the crew to give statements to the sharriff, then waiting to be cleared by the sharriff’s office or police crew. don’t really remember. i just figured we would go when we could go and no amount of questioning was going to change our situation. the crew in our train just kept trying to reassure that amtrak would make sure that everyone eventually would get where they wanted to go.

we would sit there outside of reno for 4 to 5 hours. the train was running out of food and beverages…and patience. they ended up having to make an emergency meal for all the passengers on the train. the complementary meal would be a beef stew and mashed potatoes. i went down to the snack car to see if mike still had some vegan burgers. nope. we was out of almost everything, but encouraged those of us that do not eat meat to go to participate anyway to put it in their minds that they need a different plan for emergency meals. the diner crew was not happy and was down right pissy to anyone asking if there were other options. i get it. they were way late to get off duty, were tired, frustrated, and probably a little traumatized as well.

mike, the guy who worked the snack car, told me a little about what had happened. the “traspasser” was actually a crew member of another train (the rail car stopped already) who was walking along a live track with earbuds in, knew our train was on its way in. the whole crew broke all the safety guidlines. we were going full speed when “he” was struck. he most likely died instantly and didn’t feel it, or at least not for long. the question remaining on many minds: suicide or accident.

i thanked mike for all the work he did, and the service he provided all of us, and i wished him and the rest of the crew well. i can’t imagine how the crew must feel under these conditions: a person dying, being so late getting into the end of the line before they had to turn around and go back the other directioin, having to answer all the questions from everyone about where to and how they were going to get some place.

my 10 hour layover in sacromento became a 3 hour layover. it was late enough that i didn’t even bother trying to load my bags on the bike and look for food. some of the screaming kids from the last train were in this waiting room, so i just went outside then up to the platform to wait for my train. it was a nice summer evening and i wanted to enjoy as much as i could. in reflection this could have been a good or bad thing.

our train was only 20 to 30 minutes late coming out of l.a. i was told that i would load my bike up in the front baggage car, then would board in the last coach car. i’ll tell you that is a long haul with full bike bags.

i got in line to board, and this would be the first time on this trip that i would have to wait for an assigned seat. the guy handing out seat tickets would become known as the “beanie guy” as he was the only crew member wearing a beanie. this guy actually sent me up one car, so i was in the next to last car now. we boarded a little after midnight so i had all my sleep stuff on the outside of my backpack making it easier for me to set up my sleep station, put on headphones, cover my eyes and pass out.

in the morning i woke before 6 (when the cafe opens). a few people around me were already up and were talking about there being a second mass shooting. i knew about one, but not the other. this was not how i wanted to wake up. i wanted to at least acknowledge my internal noise before the external chaos of the world permeated my being. so i went to the observation car. we were approaching mt. shasta and the sunrise views were outstanding. i struck up a conversation with the woman next to me who was returning to eugene after a weekend at the national storytelling confrence in california. we had a wonderful conversation before she went to the dining car for breakfast. i eventually went to my seat to read some more after a really long wait for a rail train to pass while we were next to kalamath lake.

the people around me where interesting. all kinds of conversations where going on, but mostly people were sleeping or reading or listing to something with earbuds in. i had just told my friends when i would be coming into town just before we went up the pass and out of cell range. at odell lake we came to a slow stop and told we were waiting for a rail train to pass.

funny how time passes when stuck on a train with no where to go. an hour passed and nothing. no train. no info. the conductors where kind of pacing around. going down the stairs, up the stairs, leaning against a wall behind the seats just in front of me (i was sitting in an aisle seat at the top of the stairs, so it was easy for me to watch them. the one conductor would talk into his radio thing from time to time. at one point, as we could hear the radio crackle with information, he said there should be something soon, that it appeared that the train we were waiting for to pass was having engine trouble.

our car was getting a little antsy, as i’m sure most people were. a few of us stood up and stretched and chatted. i told the people behind me that i didn’t think the conductor was telling us the truth and explained to them my experiences thus far. i was pretty sure we didn’t hit someone up here, but that something was going on.

i had smelled cigarette smoke several times that morning, and it appeared that a few people kept going downstairs by the bathrooms where carry on luggage can be stored, with empty cups, but coming back up with full ones. i knew they had thrown people off the train for such things, but why stopped here for so long for that. none of it was making sense.

the guy that had been sitting across the aisle and behind me came up the stairs and tapped me on the shoulder and said that everyone was suppose to move to the back of the train. that the conductor was going to have us all move back. this didn’t make sense. i stayed in my seat.

meanwhile some guy that i couldn’t see kept yelling about wanting the “fucking dog off the train”. a young guy in our car had a service dog.

the beanie guy kept coming up and down the stairs with wide eyes, yet unable to make eye contact. something was happening, but what the hell was it. not having cell service was not easing anyone’s situation and internal dialogue was quickly becoming external, making its way to whomever was nearby to listen.

by this time, i was already suppose to have arrived. my friends have traveled by train often and know things happen and how to get info. i found out later that where they were waiting for me, the happy dive bar across the street from the train station, was close enough for them to hear the amtrak announcements letting them know that we were late, but not how late or why.

so here i am chatting with the people behind me, telling them that i didn’t think any of this was making sense when i looked up and on the other side of the door, in the next car is what looks like a gaggle of riot cops or swat team trying to open the door to our car and charge down the aisle. shotguns up and pointing red laser beams at us as they moved our way.

at first i was laughing, as i reached for my phone to record anything that may happen. there were lots of brown and black folks on this train. i was laughing because the lead swat like guy couldn’t get the door open. it took 3 or 4 tries before they all came charging down at us, fully armed and pointing shotguns at us all. and i was laughing because this is what would happen now here.

and where did they go, but to the back of the train, pointing their guns at all those who did move back there (so happy i did not move). eventually the guy who told me to move, told the cops not us, that guy over there.

the cops backed up, pointed all weapons on the guy who had been yelling about the dog on the train. the cops asked him his name, i didn’t hear his answer, then asked if he was armed, “yes, i have a 45”. then shouts “i got it! i got it!” after we had heard him drop it on the floor.then they hauled the guy off the train as he kept asking what he was charged with and that he had been sleeping for the last 3 hours. and off goes another angry white guy that’s been carrying a gun ready to fire away at any moment.

what the fuck

5 fully armed officers from various departments had boarded the train. then they started taking people off one by one to interview them. seems this guy was threatening people since the sacrmento station, starting with a woman’s pre-teen daughter. people had been alerting amtrak employees about this guy from the go.

on the train he had a coutdown going for when he was going to start taking hostages, had been smoking on the train several times, and it seems everyone in our car had some story about this guy, except me. i had managed to miss almost everything.

eventually they let us all off the train for a “smoke break”. i did suspect some of the people came forward with a story once they saw people getting to smoke while talking to a cop.

eventually we got back on the train and we got to start moving again. all of us sitting near one another shared stories and asking what were we suppose to do now. those who had the guns pointed directly at them started to breakdown into tears and sobbed on shoulders.

the woman who had been sitting/sleeping next to the guy overnight had been in the observation car during the time we were stopped and came back once we started moving again. i had seen her in the morning. she thought he was just another crazy white guy and she was a strong black woman tired of crazy white guys. i ran into her later when i went down to the cafe car for a beer and a snack. the cafe was closed but i saw her in the back by the bathrooms alone, looking shaken up.

i asked if she needed anything. we talked. well she talked. i listened. she had no idea he had a gun. she had yelled at him. they had faught pretty much all night until she got up and left. she had bad feelings about him from the go. “he could have shot me at any time!?”

we didn’t see or hear from a conductor until we were abut 30 minutes from the eugene station (our next stop). someone came over the speakers as the guy sitting next to me and i went in search of some kind of information anouncing the approximate new times. some of us did our own math and believed that they purposly went slower than needed to talk about what and how they were going to respond to what had happened.

when a conductor finally did come back to check in on those of us getting off the train in eugene, he had no response. no one was going to come make sure that we were “ok” or that those personally traumatized had access to support via amtrak or some other means. i found out, by talking to others while in line for bathrooms or drinks, that unless one was in our car, no one knew anything about what happened. even those in the observation car that the armed cops came through to get to him, were told nothing.

to be a little fair. once the incident was over and we were moving again we saw beanie guy head to the front of the train with his bags packed looking none to happy. we never saw him again. we assumed he got off at the unscheduled stop before we got into eugene proper. he was the one conductor people had voiced their concerns about the guy since before boarding in sacramento. this could have all been handled quickly in a station with support.

the conductor who did talk to us had only been on the job for 6 months, and he was the one we saw back in our area. the lead conductor i only saw once early in the trip. she was recalculating arrival times in the cafe car after the stop we had in klamath. i did see her in the baggage car when i went to claim my bike. she apologized for any inconviencies. i wished her well. i just wanted to load up my bike and point it to my pals who by now had gone home and were cooking up a nice curry for us as the beer was chilling. have i mentioned how much i love my friends?! all of them! everywhere!

it took awhile for some of us to take in everything that had just happened. i still am i reckon. many of us that follow just how much gun violence there is in this country. how many mass shootings there are. how much fear people live in and with every flipping day; sometimes it takes a minute to realize what was experienced.

as for myself. i’m ok. i’m good, as pools well up in my eyes right now. i don’t know how i felt as i was instructed to stay in my seat and keep my head down as i could see it all go down. it was so instinctual. the arsonal of the police/military weapons at eye level, the brown man i was sitting next to me waking up as everything was happening, me putting my hand on his back telling him to stay down. i trusted no one in this situation but my own privlage keeping me more safe than those around me…and as a queer low-income gender queer person in this country being white and educated was what i had going for me…as usual. i say this with no ego or good for me moment, my concern was for those around me. i never believed i was in physical danger, but that others would be. i don’t know why. as others processed what could have happened if….i listened. i never felt the danger. as i’ve taken some time to process and talked it out with my people i still don’t feel like i was in physical danger. maybe part of my laughter of the military police having problems opening the door, was the idea that “of course this is what is happening” with no sense of suprise.

but i am certainly feeling something

i feel for those who did feel threatened

those who were sittting near this white man spouting violent threatening language

those who feel this threat each and every day due to how they look or move through their lives

where their families moved here from as refugees seeking asylum

forced here

colonized here

no matter who we are

no matter how we vote(d)

where we live

for so long now

this is our reality.

the people behind me? they were suppose to be at that garlic festivile that was a scene of a recent mass shooting.

everyone had some kind of close call with a mass shooting in this country, or white supremest hate filled violence to share.

so i have a question(s) for all those who voted for this administration, for this way of governing for this hate sponsored politics. those of you who don’t believe that this is what you voted for…that you voted for the economics or whatever you thought was going to provide you with a sense of safety and future you wanted to see, who think this is not the america you wanted to make great again.

for all those who believe that there is a grave threat from people who seek refuge along the southern border, or are muslim, black, brown, queer, trans

how do you “know” that this is the source of violence or some kind of risk to your safety, financial or physical. how do you “know” this to be true?

i also have questions for all those who have asked me if i feel safe traveling alone? camping by myself, biking by myself. i have never felt a threat until i entered the places more populated by people.

because of all these and so many more questions i have, i don’t know how to end this post.

thank fucking much that i had some of the best people in the world waiting for me with food and beverages and hugs and listening skills when i got off this train to help me deal with a fairly benign situation comparitively.

i shouldn’t have to deal with this, no one should.

the things i should have to deal with have nothing to do with fragile egos with guns, fists, white houses fed by congress and mega corporatioins.

i’m tired too

i’m tired of being angry

i’m tired of deciphering if that sound was fireworks or gunfire

i’m tired of filtering

of self censoring

and if i am this tired, how do others who have done this for generations, centuries feel?!

a final note. i looked this incident up on line just to see what if any news would be reported, because we never saw a news crew. there was very little reported. mostly that we were delayed for 5 hours costing amtrak lots of money in lost revenue due to missed connections and such. that there were 272 passangers and 15 crew members. that there was no injuries reported and no weapons. really? no weapons??!! we saw the weapon. i heard the man say he had a 45. i heard the cop drop it then pick it up and repeat several times “i got it! i got it!”

know who to trust with what you know is true

a year in a month

July 31, 2019July 31, 2019Tagged adventure, biking, queer, queer vegan adventures, queer writers, queers on bikes, relationships, writing, wtf4 Comments

can’t believe its been a month or so since i wrote last.

the osarks seem so far away both spatially and temporally.

so here is a brief recap on what’s been happening.

it is hot

and humid

the country is in a big heat wave with lots of extreme heat advisories everywhere i have been.

rolling into murphysburo to stay with some mighty fine warmshower folks, a short 30 miles or so nearly did me in. then as i was cooling off at the public library while they wrapped up work and such, a huge thunderstorm rolled in. gratefully they only live a few blocks from the library.

the next morning i pushed on into carbondale to figure things out. i was told of this old school motel that should be good to stay at and the location would make it easy to get around. just before i reached the motel, i spotted the co-op…hello good food! good food always helps clear my mind.

i looked up heat exhaustion, heat stroke, the weather patterns where i was heading. this was the end of june, and it was only going to get hotter. at the time i didn’t know that july would become the hottest on record all around the counry…so far. i believed if i continued it would not be in my best health interest. sure i could do it, slow but steady, but leaving the ozarks and facing the apalachian/smoky mountain range…well i didn’t see it going well. and i was excited to see my pals! i needed to see my pals more than i realized at the time.

i researched bike flight, a company that specializes in helping one get their bike shipped wherever they need it. then i looked at amtrak and greyhound to find my way to asheville, the closest city i could get to my next friend stop. and i have always wanted to experience a town i had heard so much about.

the couple days exploring the college town of carbondale was fun and odd. everywhere i went things just seemed a little off. i don’t know how to explain it. maybe they sensed i was the outsider? i don’t know, but i only felt this way around the white folks. i had wonderful conversations with black folks. it was probably me still nervous about being deeper in trump land, but this trend would continue as i searched out conversations with strangers.

so i made my plans and went further east.

there was an older black couple waiting at the greyhound stop in the amtrak station. when our bus was super late, as in after amtrak office closed, they made us wait outside. it was a hopping saturday night. they shared stories of their party days and then one of their friends just happened to wonder by and the stories really got going. their laughter lightened the moment, and even cooled down the steamy night a bit.

our bus was 3 hours late coming out of st. louis. the air conditioning was not working so they had to find and switch out the buses. when we got into nashvile it was a cluster chase for every one of us that was trying to get connecting rides. the couple i had met in carbondale and i sat and chatted until our respective buses were called and we wished one another well.

in knoxville there is only 1 bus to asheville and it leaves at 6:30 am. we got into knoxville something like 9 or 10 am. one of the older women who worked at the station saw me put my bags down (i kind of stand out with my bike bags and being one of the few white people wondering around the station). she asked where i was going/what i was doing. when i said asheville, she told me to give her my ticket and follow her.

she quickly disapeared behind the counter, talked to someone in an office behind the counter, and let me know “he’ll take care of it, have a seat.”

so i sat and waited.

next thing i know, he comes out, writes some things on my ticket, hands it back to me, says a taxi will be here shortly to take me to the hotel and to make sure to be in the lobby by 5 am to be returned to the bus station. that is right. greyhound hooked me up with taxis and a hotel, which let me explore knoxville tennessee for a day.

i want to take a minute to talk about a situation i witnessed and experienced in the knoxville station, but i am going to save it for another post. more has happened around the issue of ICE and the amazing work some people are doing for refugees trying to find their way in this country. a reminder the so called border is everywhere, or nowhere.

anyway, while waiting for the the next bus to take me to asheville, and closer to the next friend stop, i had a wonderful chat with the woman standing nearby. we talked about all the delays and the heat. there was a young child who was not having it any more and was throwing a fit. she talked about traveling with her kids, absent on this work trip. later, she asked me if i knew what was up with the table that had water and food and clothing (the thing i will write in my next post) that was now broken down. when i told her it was for refugees, she started to get worked up, thinking of the children locked up in concentration camps. you don’t do that to children. to anyone. but children?! hell no! we both started to have tears of anger and frustration well up in our eyes: what can we do, should we do, where do we turn? i could see the anger of a strong black woman/mother begin to surface. my heart swelled. my muscles tensed. interupted by the call of a bus….not either of ours.

we changed the subject.

she knows kansas city. she goes there for school bus driver conferences and such. she loves going to old kc. it is where she met her husband. he followed her east to be with her family. we talked of family and favorite places. then her bus was called.

i spent a week in asheville at a hostel downtown. i was able to walk everywhere. nothing was more than a 20 minute walk. for real. whenever i looked up directions to some place i wanted to explore, it was .4 miles away. it became a joke amongst many of us. my friends that live close by came in for a few hours one afternoon. we made plans for me to get to them. i bike 30 some miles to a town near them and they picked me up.

the roads from asheville to waynesville were beautiful. lush green everywhere. rolling hills that were getting steeper again. i did have to stop several times to cool down. by the time i rolled into waynesville, i was rung out. its funny though. as hot as i get on these days, the air conditioning where i stop is too cold for me. i waited at a coffee shop, drinking some iced tea, but had to sit outside, it was just too cold inside. luckily there was shade and i could cool down and dry off enough to wipe the salt off my legs and arms.

i had an amzing time with my friends! to have such wonderful people in my life! i am so excited for their next adventures! the time here was so good. i spent hours, days just staring out at the trees and hills while my pals worked on their projects and plans for their next things, or prepare for art shows. then we would chat about whatever was on our minds. i was able to unburden some of the turbulence inside me with out, hopefully, putting anything on them. it is such a gift to have people who can listen without needing to take anything on.

but there was still logistic storms in my head, and no one could do anything about that but me really. though my pals would play a part for sure.

how to get from here to philly was the next challenge and i was at a lost. i thought about biking back to asheville, then? i knew i couldn’t keep biking until the heat wave broke. it was so hot by 10 or 11 in the morning, and the nights never really cooled down. so i decided on a one-way car rental to charlotte where i could pick up a train to philly that would let me bring my bike without putting it in a bike box again.

so i loaded up, put on some tunes, and made a road trip, but i went a little backwards. i stopped in cherokee, nc first. it is part of the reservation with lots of history of the people of this land. i learned a little about this band and how some of them were able to avoid the trail of tears that was part of the indian removal act. again, i will write more on this very soon. thoughts on the indian removal act and public lands and our parks systems.

so i got on a train in charolotte. we were almost 2 hours late in leaving due to mechanical issues. then due to having to go slower in some areas because of the effects of heat on unmaintained rails in areas, (for realz we have an infrastructure problem in this country on so many levels) and then a strange situation just as we were entering philly. people rambling on the rails outside of town. someone thought the train hit someone. we had to wait for the police to clear everything up. they told us no one was hurt. shrug. i guess i believe them?.? we were 5 hours late arriving. thankfully my friend here is super wonderful and acted unfazed by it. even ordered chinese food for us to pick up on the way “home”.

and here i am, my last day in philly! it has been a wonderful time here. i got to get intouch with another friend who moved here from portland, and they turned me on to some protests/demonstrations that i was hoping to get involved in.

tomorrow i hop on a train and begin my journey west. for some reason i just feel pulled to get there. i have some ideas of bike tours i want to do once i get there, but again, its my pals.

lots of things have fallen apart on this trip, pretty much from the start plans have shifted and changed many times kind of on a daily bases. sure this is part of pretty much any adventure. yet, there has been one thread that has not changed since i started. friends. connections both new and well established relationships, including the one i have with myself.

i am excited to spend four and half days on a train ride accross the country garenteed to have some good stories come out of it, as well as some wonderful views as i get to ride the zepher from chicago to sacramento. on this ride i hope to write about the wonderful experiences i had in the stops i’ve made so far. i have an outline of what i want to share, thoughts i’ve had, the people i’ve met, the pieces of community i’ve found inspiring, and photos…it should keep me busy while on the train.

i do apologize for not writing, but to be honest, i have had to fight the feelings of failing. myself? those who support me? the adventure it’s self? not totally sure, and i’m over those feelings now, mostly. it is all about the adventure, and for the most part i am doing just what i want to do anyway, so, there you have it.

this past month i have experienced more than i may have in the last year. much has been packed in this time frame. and i couldn’t be more grateful for any of it.

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