Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Stories from a storm...

Written Thursday, December 6th:

Its been a week or so since I last wrote, and tonight seems like as good a reason as any. At 5pm the snow is falling steadily outside my window, the forecast is calling for at least 8" by 5am, another 10-12 during the day, and steady snow throughout tomorrow night, Saturday, and into Sunday; the anticipation of possibly skiing 3 feet of snow in two days is crushing. Better yet, I work tomorrow night and Saturday at 3pm, then Sunday and Monday off! So, I'll be skiing this entire storm without missing a beat...

Of course, both of my guads being strained and my skis having no edges after the past week's powder days and subsequent hunts for softer snow, reminds me that this storm will not all fun and games! Let's hope they hold up.

Written Friday, December 7th:

Alright, writing on Friday morning with a quick update: 10 inches last night, an inch an hour all day today, 12" more 5pm until 5am tomorrow morning, and possibly 10" throughout Saturday and Sat. night! That would make this a 30" storm at least...models are still holding up. SO, Mitch and Sean came up last night to get here early, they are shoveling for breakfast, the bombs are going off throughout the canyon, and EVERYONE is walking on air.

Here's a couple pictures from this morning:


Mitch Bacon rolled into town to pick up Sean for the drive to AK for the winter; of course, they had to stay for most of this storm before heading off. Here they are shoveling the deck on Friday morning in return for food and lodging...great deal!


Sean getting excited, attacking the snow without his skis on yet...


And...here's Sean choking on the goods!


Nothing but smiles after turns like that! Notice the snow stuck on the head...

There were many times during the past few days that I have had to stop and pull snow out of my mouth, take a deep breath, and cough my way back to the lift to do it again. Its a strange sensation, but by no means something to complain about!

Here's the car mid storm:







Kindof romanticizing the whole digging the car out, but its been fun to have to do it...I'll eat those words in a month or so. However, I have never experienced a storm like that...growing up in NH, we had a couple 2-3ft storms...but 40"es and a steady inch an hour for days is a whole other beast.


The view up to The Deep Powder House from the lodge...


Blocking out the sun dog, cup of coffee in hand...


New friend Chris and I, biscotti stealing in progress...

Thursday, November 29, 2007

November 28th with Sean Brennan

Finally recieved snow! Two nights ago the skies darkened, the snow began to fall, and we woke up to at least 10" of fresh snow throughout the canyon! I made a call to Sean Bear and we linked up in the morning around 9am. Fearing we were getting out a little too late, each skin track showed fewer and fewer pole marks and we found Greely Ridge basically untouched...minus two tracks. We pushed forward south up the ridge looking for more northern facing aspects (those holding the most snow before the storm...still real thin) and were delighted to find completly buffed out, untouched fields of powder. With a solid pitch (maybe 30-35 degrees), a series of slightly windloaded ridges, and stashes of trees to carve through, it was WAY beyond what we expected. It only took another 30 minutes to skin back up and take another lap, yelping the whole way down and giving big hugs and high fives while the snow started melting off our faces.

As you'll see from the pictures, it was a beautiful day.


The view of Superior from within the dining room of the lodge, the storm clearing after 10" and the beginning of a bluebird day.


Looking over at Greely Hill, Sugarloaf Peak clearing from the clouds. Snow is still very thin, but this is a shot at a classic powder meadow at Alta.



The objective: Gunsight. The shot in the middle with the two little pines below the cliffs on the left. Ended up skiing both chutes to lookers right of Gunsight, unable to get around the bulge of rock to the right of Gunsight.



Greely Ridge with the clouds clearing, Gunsight and the entrance of 3rds stretching out to the right of the photo. Notice the two tracks in 2nds...the only people ahead of us...YES!


The entrance to 2nds on the right with the tracks, the cliff in the middle ends up being a 15-20 footer.


Sean Bear billy goating on our boot pack up the ridge and over to Gunsight.


A snowball shows us the way down an untouched powder field. Fearing it a bit shallow we took it slow and were rewarded with face shots as the snow had drifted into 18" deep pockets (at least). Cutting across the subtle ridge on the left of this chute was over head blower powder, we giggled whole way down.


Sean catching up with that snowball...


Sean coming up for air while cruising through the trees at the bottom of the run.


Out of focus and a bit off, but Sean milks another wave of low density powder!

Tomorrow the lifts start running and a couple groomers will be open, its up in the air whether they'll open a couple of other skiable areas, maybe Ballroom and parts of the shoulder. Either way, Sean is headed up and another 5"-8" is supposed to fall by night fall with possibly heavier snow in the evening. No work till 3pm the next two days; finally, I'm skiing in Alta.

Hope all is well,

andy

Monday, October 15, 2007

Tales from the road...Part 1

Started writing this a week ago and still haven't made it to the farm living yet...more to come in part 2. It covers the trip looking back and also has soome excerpts written from the road. PICTURES at bottom!

October 9th, 2007

Willits, CA

Wow, a week ago today I drove out of SLC, across Nevada, over Donner Pass and into California! 12 and ½ hours on the road is all it finally took to reach sunny California and the welcome of Scott and Adam here on the farm. Its been a great week and I’ll get back to life on the farm, but want to recap the majority of my trip cross-country since it has been neglected from this journal....

Spent the final weekend of my time back East by throwing a rockin party at Tripp lake with many of my closest friends and family. Richard and Laurie showed up on Friday night and were at camp when I finally arrived after leaving Holderness fully loaded around 9:15pm. Saturday morning was a great time just hanging with the two of them, fishing with Rich, cooking a little, and catching up on their lives.

Leaving Holderness was a tough day. Of course, saying goodbye to friends and colleagues was tough, but getting all the pieces in order before leaving was largely done on Friday afternoon. Mail house issues, donating clothes, closing bank accounts, sorting through boxes of “stuff” and figuring out what to pack for the trip, what to throw away, and what to store for later – were all left for the last day! I have since found out that the speed with which I left Holderness and my life back east has already impacted my trip; I found it difficult to stop and do little things on the trip cross-country like take pictures, stop at the scenic view spot along the way, pull into a small town looking for food as opposed to grabbing some junk at another road side rest area, etc. Not that I didn’t do some of these things, I just didn’t do as much of it as I would have liked to. Again, as I look back on the trip cross-country (writing this in Willits, a week after arriving in CA), I think taking a week after my last day of work to unwind, slowly pack and organize, say goodbye to more folks, go for one last hike in the Whites, organize my music (crucial to solid mental health when driving cross-country), and finish some errands (mostly paying bills...ughhh) – all would have helped slow my pace down and settle into the larger trip at hand. However, I don’t regret much, but see how the hurriedness of my leaving has impacted my travels already as evidenced in my lack of photos from the drive.

Back to the party at Tripp...it was the first in what should be many great parties thrown by my generation on the lake. I remember being a kid visiting the Tinkhams and being put to bed as the adults partied well into the evening and got into all sorts of fun trouble. The party felt like my contribution to that history and I think everyone associated with the lake had a blast. For example, when the pontoon and speed boats left the docks at 12:00am for a float session, skinny dipping, and star gazing, Bob Harkins and Tink brought Sawyer and Luke out for some of the fun. Thirty minutes later, Sawyer and Luke had their jaws on the floor as five beautiful women came back onto the boats to towel off after their skinny dip. Sawyer looked up at one lady and honestly asked, “What happened to your clothes?” As Bob and Tink laughed their way through telling me this, it became clear to me that EVERYONE was having fun! Everyone contributed to the fun; we prepared locally raised beef, fresh corn, homemade spreads and dips, roasted veggies, cheese and cracker spreads, Rich’s homemade salsas, Laurie’s baklava, Bob brought a six pack of Cold River, Taylor brought a lobstah, Neely brought some dessert, and everyone brought good company and a solid commitment to partying well into the evening! Jon Sarty, Bear, and Josh came over to start up some tunes and they as well brought along some great company; we all ended up playing together and singing into the night sky as the fire and friends roared in the back ground.

Sunday was a fine day as well. People slowly rise from the ashes, emerged from their tents, and began cooking breakfast while picking up the pieces of a wild night. We cruised the lake looking for shelter from the wind so we could enjoy the last few hours of decent swimming temps. We also got a grand game of Bocce Ball in around the house before people started peeling out and heading back to wherever they had travelled from for the weekend.

Here are a couple entries from the road, I pick up where it leaves off...

September 25, 2007
Immaculata University

After a lot of goodbyes, “see ya laters”, and good times at the camp this past weekend, I got in the car yesterday morning and headed off for Philadelphia. Mom was the last at camp and was busy cleaning up and packing her own car; I think a busy morning might have been easiest with all the emotions running around and leading into this trip. She’s been a huge source of support in helping me commit to this change in lifestyles. Also, being so close to family the past three years back on the E. Coast has been a joy. We said a teary goodbye and looked forward to this winter’s trip to Utah!

After Roitman threw me into the lake with my cell phone in hand, a visit to the Maine Mall was the first true stop on the trip....ughhh. One hour and $175 later, I was headed down I-95 towards Boston for a randveous with my father to drop off some skis, a hard drive, and pick up some knife equipment for the farm in California. Had a great conversation with Dad, found out his good friend Dave Greer passed away after his battle with cancer. Dad shared some stories about adventures with Dave and despite the sad news, it was reaffirming for both of us to hear about such good times with friends and really getting after enjoying life.

Got on the road around 2pm from the Boston area and made it into downtown Philly by 8:15pm. It took a touch longer then I wanted, but traffic was minimal and the change in scenery was beautiful. I can’t say I enjoy the views in CT, but as I entered NY state and then into Northern Jersey and PA, the rolling hills and subtle changes in foliage were a welcomed site. The sun set as I entered Bethlehem, PA and turned south on I-476 towards Philadelphia, which made for a nice end to the day. I’m hoping to drive as much during the day as possible, cause my last trip cross-country was done mostly at night and it’s far more dangerous and tiring.

Got into Philly and easily found my way to Fickes’ apartment. So great to see him on his turf and catch up, even if for just a short time and a couple beers. Grabbed a killer steak sandwich and a couple Yeunglings at a local pub, talked for an hour or so and got to hear about his impressions of the city, law school, living away from Coonoor (his girlfriend), and most importantly, laughed at last month’s reunion on the Oregon Coast. Fickes is another friend who is starting a new chapter in life and after his two years in Jackson Hole, he’s a bit jealous, but can definitely relate to the excitement I feel. Got to see his apartment and then walked over to the MFA to run up the stairs like Rocky. Felt pretty silly, and then two folks sitting on the top of the stairs playfully cheered us on.

Said goodbye to Aaron, and took off for Immaculata Univ. where Evan is going to school. Got in around 11:30 and pretty much crashed out. Took up a spot on the floor and got to listen to Evan hack and cough his way through the night. The poor kid has awful asthma and when sick, he can barely breathe. Of course, cleaning up his room a little would help! I got some decent sleep and we got up to walk to breakfast. Wasn’t terribly impressed with the cafeteria, but the campus is beautiful. Full of large, stone buildings with crossed and statues of Jesus everywhere, it feels a bit like a nunnery. However, with the ratio of women to men at 3;1, perhaps nunnery is not the best word to describe the place! Got to meet Evan’s girlfriend Megan who is very cute and seems really nice. Also, Evan’s roommate James seems like quite the character.

I can’t help but think about when I was a freshman in college and what that year was like. Having a solid group of friends set up for me by Gillian being at WU a year early was a blessing; it certainly helped make things easier on me. On the flip side, Evan is making his own friends and taking it head on. Several cute girls and a host of guys stopped Evan in the path and seemed genuinely excited to see him. Can’t help but make you proud of your brother! He is also pledging to an unauthorized fraternity (no frat system on campus), which is basically a group of like-minded guys building a social structure on campus. He seems really into it, and more importantly, is meeting some new people. I also think its important for Evan because he needs some personal time to do things without his girlfriend. He’s lovingly notorious for getting in very deep with girls and letting things like school and health fall to the wayside.

Evan walked me around campus and showed me most of the major buildings on campus. Hilariously, we walked into the library and he said he hadn’t been in there yet! We stood at the front door and basically said to each other, “looks like a library!” We walked through “back campus” and took a seat up over looking the southern hills of the university. He told me all about the different haunted halls on campus and spirits running around. We also talked for a while about each other’s plans and got to dig in a little at what is “really” going on around us. We talked about travels, goals for the upcoming couple of years, ideas about future jobs, and what he should do to keep his girlfriend happy! He’s in a great place and seems to have a more and more excited out look on the future...not that it’s ever been dull!

He’s off in class right now and its been a great first stop on this trip cross-country. I feel really good about where Evan is at and whom he is with. I can’t believe he’s in college, and although it does seem like a while ago to me and the kids seem pretty young, its exciting to watch these students build new friendships and make their own way. I think about whom I’m headed out to see these next few months and they’re all college friends.

September 26th, 2007
Baltimore, MD

...Just getting back from an Orioles game in Baltimore. After saying goodbye to Evan, I made my way down to Baltimore to meet up with Marissa. I made good time and got in around 4:15pm, we grabbed a six-pack of beer and drove down to the local reservoir to take in the early sunset and talk about her new start towards med school next year. She’s super busy studying for a physics exam this week and couldn’t make it to the game. However, it was a great conversation on the bank of the lake and so great to hear about what’s been going on in her life. Also good to talk out loud some more about the next couple of years of mine own life.

The game was great and Camden Yards is a super park. Great food, cheap tickets (sat in a box seat for eight dollars!), and easy to find. Drove into Balitmore with no traffic, paid ten bucks for parkside parking (too much stuff in my car to park in a neighborhood I didn’t know), walked up to the ticket office and arrived at my seats for the first pitch; if this could only happen at the Fens! Ended up leaving early cause they were getting creamed and I still haven’t recouped from the last couple of weeks...not sure when that is going to happen! Got into Marissa’s house and got to talk some more with her, she packed me an AWESOME goody bag for the road (chocolate covered espresso beans, nectar bars, pita chips, natural gum, bananas) and got a solid night’s sleep...finally!

Took off from Baltimore on Wednesday, September 27th early in the morning and made my way out of Maryland and into West Virginia, Virginia, and finally into Eastern Tennessee. What a beautiful part of the country! I vowed to myself to spend some serious time checking out Southeast Virginia, Northeast Tennessee, and Northwestern Carolina. The Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah Valley, Central Appalachia, and Tennessee River Valley were all stunning in the early fall colors. As I drove southwest across Virginia, I pulled out my copy of The Omnivore’s Dilemma in hopes of discovering that Joel Sallatin’s Polyface Farm was just around the corner and might therefore warrant a stop in. Unfortunetly, I discovered (by flipping through the pages while driving), that I had probably passed by any exit to his property a couple hours before I thought to look. Continuing along I got to talk with Renee, a random and long over due phone call to Erica Lipps (who I also thought might be in the area and up for grabbing a coffee!), and several other friends who called to check in. Made it into Nashville by 6pm or so and found my hostel for the evening.

Nashville has one hostel in it, The Music City Hostel, and it did the job just fine. I got situated, cleaned up a little, checked the local paper for concerts going on, and hit the streets walking ready for a solo night in the city. Walked across the bridge and into downtown Nashville to check out The Station Inn – a famous night club for the city’s immense bluegrass scene. Funny thing happened as I walked down the street...was coming around a corner in the street and was convinced I getting close to the venue I was looking for, when from up a street just above me came a unbelievably attractive woman merging onto the street that I was walking. After making eye contact and a quick hello, we fell into step together and began walking towards the same venue. While all sorts of unfounded fantasies came to my head, the line to get into the venue began to shorten and I looked around making sure I was in fact in the right place. Sure enough, as a glanced across the street looking for confirmation I was actually going to the same show this woman was, I saw the half lit sign on the opposite side of the street for the Station Inn, MY venue for the evening. With my tail between my legs and ego hanging loosely from my shoulder, I slid out the back of the line damning myself for having never gotten into Brandi Carlisle who was playing at the City Hall, for the beautiful woman I had just walked into the wrong line for! Of course, the Station Inn was deserted and the band was only beginning to set up, and it was a change in line up so the person I thought I was seeing had been replaced. After saying hello to the bartender I headed back out to hit the streets in search of local talent and good times.

Just up the road I found a great bar, albeit it was one of those bars that loads its beer menu with hundreds of beers from around the world. Funny that these bars annoy me since I love the product so much, but I find the whole idea a bit pretentious. I’m sure I would enjoy all the beers on the menu on any given night or in any given state of drunkenness, but my experience has shown that half of the beers on those types of menus aren’t worth importing or even inking their name on the page of the menu. Also, I don’t need twenty types of IPA...give me three or four that you KNOW I will LOVE! A bit of a rant, but the bar redeemed itself with two slices of tasty goat cheese pizza.

I then took off for some roaming in the streets of downtown. Of course, I got pulled into the neon and urban cowboy scene on Broadway. Within an hour I had been into five bars, seen five different types of country music, and drank five whiskeys. The scene was a bit touristy, but who was I to judge while contributing to it all. I loved the different characters that were performing in each bar, each with a bucket up on stage for patrons to drop a note or two in. One bar featured some rockabilly/honky-tonk that was a load of fun and just when I was about to ask someone to dance, several couples got on the floor and reminded me that many in the south KNOW how to dance. So rather then fake it and lug some poor girl around the floor, I watched the crowd take over and took notes.

I ended up walking back to The Station Inn to check out the band that had earlier been setting up. There were maybe 15 people in the place, each had paid the $8 to see the young bluegrass talent. Knowing that the likes of Bill Monroe, Sam Bush, Grisman, Tony Scott, Tony Rice, Rowan, Hartford, Bela Fleck, Trishka, and many, many other bluegrass greats had played on the same stage, I just soaked it in and tried not to get too tired of the inside jokes passed around by the band. They were good, they were funny too, but neither as much as they thought they were. I stumbled out of the venue a little earlier then I thought I would, but I managed to get a late night shower in back at the hostel; it was a great realization in the morning when the dozen or so guests were vying for shower time.

I loaded up the car and thought about jumping out of town right then and there, but decided to grab a good cup of coffee (the usual these days: double americano, little cream, one packet raw sugar!) and take a look around at the Country Music HOF, the Ryman Auditorium, and the local southern clothing shops on Broadway. Glad I took a couple hours to wonder around some more in the daylight, Nashville is a great little city where everyone is either in town to see music or play music; you could feel the curiousity and history in the streets.

I took off around 10:30am or so for St. Louis where good friends Teddy Presberg and Lauren are living, working, and studying. The drive was very interesting in that you could witness your departure from the south and arrival in the midwest. Leaving the humid, rolling hill sides surrounding Nashville and the Tennessee River Valley, I could feel myself driving up and out of “The South”. Albeit, Nashville is probably as far north as you can go in the south, I felt I had gotten a taste of the culture and as the horse farms of south western Kentucky passed by my car I felt as if I was being lifted out of one unique place and planted in the vast fields of the mid-west. Kentucky looked plainly beautiful, with Rockwell-esque scenes of red barns painted amongst the white picked fences which divided plots of rich, blue grass. As I left my short time in the south, I could feel myself pulling up to the brink of the American West; the air dropped its humidity in several passing showers, the land leveled itself out, and eventually, the gateway to the West appeared in the distance: St. Louis.

Managed to snap a photo St. Louis’ arch, even if from my car while driving, because I was hugely surprised by its massiveness. I’m sure I could have paid someone to tell me the details, but from the car it looked a solid 150 ft. tall, if not much higher. Made my way into University City, a small suburb northwest of St. Louis. It being a Jewish holiday, there were dozens of Jews walking around the streets. Teddy greeted me in the streets and commenced to have a beer while touring his new house and enjoying the back yard gardens. Teddy and Lauren had just bought and moved in, but the house has a ton of character and will be perfect for their time in St. Louis. Ended up breaking into a little bourbon, Teddy left for a rehearsal, I played with my iTunes (setting up for the great voyages across Kansas and Nevada), got a quick nap, and headed out to dinner with Lauren while Teddy wrapped up. Had a great tapas meal complete with a Guiness and finally got a chance to talk with Lauren one on one.

Got back to their house, poured another bourbon and played some tunes with Teddy. At one point I had to pick my jaw up off the floor, cause he was ripping apart some tunes I was playing rhythm for. I always love watching Teddy play the guitar and as I get better at playing with people, its a joy to play with someone like him...it only helps to reaffirm my dreams of becoming a touring musician (we can all dream right?). Lauren took off for bed, Teddy and I headed to the bars to check out the St. Louis scene. Ended up walking The Loop and walked into a hip bowling alley, grabbed another whiskey, put on some clown shoes, and grabbed a lane. We ended up bowling five games, talking about all sorts of things, while giving each other plenty of shit as our games got worse and worse. Got the chance to hear Teddy’s view of St. Louis and how hard it is to create a music scene in the area, or at least break into the small one that already exists. We wrapped it up around 2:00am and made our way home, crashed out watching some hysterical episode of Chapelle.
Collected my things on Friday morning, said some goodbyes to Teddy and Lauren, grabbed another quality caffeinated beverage, and headed towards I-70 West. Unlike leaving Baltimore where I first encountered I-70 and was greeted with a sign reading DENVER: 1711 MILES (what a cruel joke really!), the fine folks of Missouri didn’t need to remind me that Kansas was just around the corner. Quick interlude here...Leaving Missouri and preparing to enter Kansas I stopped for gas and was relieved to find a bag of sunflower seeds up near the counter. If I remember one thing from THIS trip cross-country, it is that sunflower seeds are your friend. Even if a day spent eating them results in a sore mouth and no taste buds, they give you a solid distraction as the miles click by. I think I went through six bags of seeds on my drive cross-country, and I have finally got my taste back.

Kansas was strangely beautiful, but thank god the largest storm I have ever driven through or seen broke the monotony. Stopping once somewhere near the middle of the state to grab a pizza, some ice tea, and a small break, I found one of the only outposts of strip malls in the whole state. It was an experience, and I had to try real hard not to ask someone why they lived there? I was just curious more then judgemental, but I couldn’t shake the curiosity from my head. Shortly before that stop, I had dropped a text message to friends I thought would catch my reference, with a quote from Dumb and Dumber: “That John Denver was full of shit!” Of course, this is from the scene where Harry takes a wrong turn going to Denver and ends up in Kansas as the sun rises. Floyd wakes up, takes a look around at the prairies and says, “I thought the Rockies were a whole lot Rockier!”. So, thanks to all of you who sent other lines from the movie, it helped. Leaving the strip mall and getting back on the highway, I saw a dark horizon line. As the slices went down and I picked up the sausage from the seat cushions, the edge of the storm approached. I’d seen another storm like this in Nebraska, but the beast I was driving into was very unique. As I entered the edge of it, the color of the clouds and air became faintly green and as the lightening started landing in the fields on either side of my car, the air smelled of sulfur. Thankfully, I-70 took a subtle turn northward and we were driving on the edge of the worst weather. I turned on the radio and searched for a weather forecast. The announcement finally came that a sever thunderstorm and tornado warning was issued for counties yatta yatta and whats its name....and the I-70 corridor between highway markers 72 and 97...I looked to my right and saw marker 84...DAMN! The clouds began to break though, the rear view mirrors filled with nightime, and two hours after driving into it, I was leaving my own version of “The Nothing”.

As the sun began to set and the storm appeared farther and farther through the rear view mirrors, I entered Colorado with enough time to still read the old wood sign: “Welcome to Beautiful Colorado!”. I got a picture of the sunset because it was taking place directly over the road and while I chased it to Boulder, I truly felt that I had arrived in The West. After driving through Kansas, it was just a couple short hours to Boulder for a couple nights. Side note here, the drive into the Denver area reminded me of another phenomenon from the open road: mile markers and signs. Like the sign just beyond Baltimore, any road sign has the ability to be uplifting or depressing, often they are both in which the later wins. You see, I can handle mile markers reading anything in the 300 mile range; you break into the 4 and 500s and they might as well not even sign it. I think it could induce any number of reactions from a driver, two of which I’ve experienced: road rage and exhaustion. So, when the sign reads Nashville: 423 miles, its time to stop and collect yourself a bit, maybe check the tire pressure. But as I entered Colorado and the mile marker read: Denver 178 miles, I knew I’d made it. I ran the car for a solid 20 miles on Empty, but arrived at Eric’s house in time for a surprisingly fun night.

Eric greeted me with a big hug and introduced me to a roommate, Amanda. I poured us a glass of Jamiesons from the bottle that had left Maine with me and chatted with the two of them. After meeting his Kiwi roommate Mark and finishing up my drink, I grabbed a shower and settled into a little guitar with Eric and long talks on what we should do for the evening. It was great to see Eric again, within the past year and a half, we’ve reconnected after a few years since his graduation from Willamette in 2002. A great skier, guitar player, music lover and someone who loves to smile, its really hard not to have fun with friends like Eric. We eventually made it out to Pearl St. to check out a couple bands over a couple drinks. Ended up a dub reggae show at Trinity, which was perfect cause I could just zone out and not dance too hard. I’ve never really been to a show like that before, it consisted of three guys either sitting down or shuffling through records as they twisted nobs and applied all of the sounds they were directing.

It was now Saturday and I’d been planning to see the Rockies – Diamond Backs game, what I didn’t realize was that the division race had come down to the wire. With two games left in the regular season, the Rocks had to win both games just to force a playoff game for the Wild Card; we were going to one of those games. I met up with Alec Brewster, a friend from Holderness ’96, Alec works in Denver and was a hoot to ski with in Vail last winter. Grabbed a drink or two and walked towards the box office where we scalped three tickets for $10 a piece...again, will this ever happen again at Fenway? The game was great, someone on the Rocks hit a grand-slam, we watched from throughout the park and ended up settling into the left field foul poll area with a flask of rum. The place was filled to near capacity and people all around us were commenting on how that never happens the last weekend of the season. Unlike other years, the Rockies have a real young, solid team that is now in the National League Championship Series after sweeping the Phillies in the NLDS. It would be great to see a Rockies – Red Sox World Series, but the Sox first have to take care of the Cleveland Indians in the ALCS. Biggest news of last week as not that the Sox had swept the Angels, but that the Yanks got creamed by the Indians. Going into the playoffs and for the better part of the second half of the season, the Yanks were unbelievable. Even better from all that news is that A-Fraud had a dismal playoff series, again. He’ll be negotiating a new contract somewhere else in between tee times this off-season, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Boston is in the hunt for his talent.

Coors Field was beautiful and the game was well worth the $10 ticket and two or three cokes! We left a little early to grab a beer at a local pub Alec wanted us to check out. Unfortunetly, Eric and I were pretty tired and had to drive back to Boulder, so we departed with Alec after a couple of beers in a cramped booth watching a great R&B cover band; somehow managed to fit five people into a tiny booth, two of which were on a date and not until after they bought me a beer did I realize they didn’t know Eric or Alec. Spent the rest of the night hanging back at Eric’s, playing guitar, watched some very strange movie, and passed out with his roommate’s kitten pawing my head.

I packed my things up Sunday morning and slowly made my way out of Boulder and back to I-70. Eric and I said our goodbyes and made plans to see one another during the ski season, if not earlier. (Turns out he might be coming to help on the farm within the next two weeks!). He sent me out on Broadway which linked me to some interstate between Golden and Boulder. The views were incredible heading out, the flat irons rising from the valley floor and setting the stage for Boulder. Rather then head into Golden, I stayed on Rt. 6 through Clear Creek Canyon, which wraps you up to Idaho Springs and I-70. It was a stunning little drive through the windy, soft cut creek floor; the leaves on the Aspens were turning golden yellow and the water ran deep aqua blue and cold. As I made my way back to the highway and ascended up Loveland Pass, the Aspens rose from all the valley floors and were met with snow mid mountain. The yellow of the leaves, white snow on the mountains, and brilliantly clear day combined to make a perfect fall day to drive through the highlands of Colorado. As I came over Vail Pass and the height of land read somewhere in the 10,000 ft. range, my head felt a bit light and throbbed just a bit. Thankfully, just as soon as it hit me, I was slowly descending from the mountains and onto the Colorado Plateau which stretches West beyond Edwards, is chopped back down by the Glenwood Canyon, and spills onto the canyon-lands of Southeastern Utah. With so many 14,000 ft. mountains to drool over and the promise of the Utah desert to come, the driving was easy.

A few pics from this segment of the trip:


The flat-irons outside Boulder, CO



At Coors Field with Alec (middle) and a friend of his


The sunset leading to Colorado and leaving Kansas behind...


Looking in the rear view mirro during that storm...


Welcome to St. Louis and The West!


Country Music Hall of Fame!


Sign on the outside of The Station Inn, Nashville

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Chapel Talk - Holderness School

Since coming back to work at Holderness, I've wanted to do a chapel talk. Every Thursday night the whole school crams into the chapel and hears from a member of the community on the topic of their choice. Since my last day is a week from tomorrow, its time to finally stand up there and speak my peace. Within the culture of the faculty and staff, a chapel talk is not to be taken lightly. Also, standing in front of peers who do this daily is a bit nerve wracking. So, this is what I'll be reading, followed by a rendition of Townes Van Zandt's "White Freight Liner Blues" with my friend Tiaan on fiddle.

Preface:

Although much of the beginning of this talk is directed to the newer members of our community, my hope is that all of you will reflect a bit on when you came to school here and how you felt during these first few weeks. Hopefully you’ll see that in doing so, you’ll learn a bit more about yourself by seeing how far you’ve come and maybe even realize how much lies ahead of you. So…

I’ll never forget my mother dropping me off at the bus stop in North Conway with a month’s worth of possessions on my back. Rather than drive me to the airport in Boston, she insisted that if I was going to make a trip of it, that I should truly start in my hometown. So off I went. After several layovers, a night in Bangkok, and less then 48 hours after I left NH, I was flying over the Indian subcontinent, staring out the window looking for the first sign of the Himalaya. After a long announcement in some Southeast Asian language, the pilot voiced in broken English that we could now see the highest mountain range in the world from the right of the aircraft. Sure enough, a wall of snowcapped peaks several hundred miles away and the same height as the plane appeared in the distance. Soon, the pilot pointed out Mt. Everest by its distinguished stripe of limestone which crosses just below its summit. As the plane approached Katmandu, it made a hard left turn, lowered its landing gears, and the runway came into view. As we made the “final approach”, the rows of either rusted out or abandoned airplanes and helicopters stretched out just to the sides of the cracked and beaten runways, making for a most anxious landing. After wading my way through customs, waiting for a bus driven by armed soldiers in riot gear, and later handing a hundred dollar bill to a rug dealer to ensure maximum exchange rate, I found myself negotiating the dusty streets of Katmandu with my best friend, completely blown away and in a fair amount of shock.

I was 18 years old and on my senior project to study agro-forestry techniques while working with the people of Nepal. In many ways that overwhelming experience was the culmination of my time at Holderness as a student.

I start with that story because for many of you in this room, your past two weeks may have several similarities, if not immediately apparent. Honestly, (without raising your hands) how many of you felt the same anxiety as your parents drove you onto campus or when you boarded that bus or plane to make the trip to the mountains of NH? How many of you are still walking around at lunch looking for the best table to sit at? How many of you are still a little unsure of what to eat while wandering around looking for that table? How many of you approach Mr. Oldack and Mr. Henwood like they are armed guards of those Nepali buses? Better yet, how many of you think that Vytautus is older than Mr. Houseman? Of course, you don’t have to be a first year student or teacher to understand what I’m getting at.

But in all seriousness, you are all engaging in the Holderness Experience. Two weeks ago Mr. Weymouth addressed the new students and encouraged all of you to embrace your homesickness and anxiety and to engage in this experience. I promise that if you take those words to heart and make the most of your time here, you will leave a much more wholesome, prepared, and confident person. You will be offered continuous opportunities to step beyond your comfort zone, try a new skill, meet new people, and test yourself both mentally and physically. After all, that is exactly what you came here to do, even if you THINK you’re here to ski, play hockey, football, snowboard, record albums, or any of the host of reasons you might have committed to coming here. Holderness will force you to go beyond those reasons, so you should commit early to taking on those challenges and making the most of them.

However, this is not as easy or simple as listening to me up here pretending to be some wise sage, full of fool proof knowledge. Hell, many of you don’t even know who I am! BUT, I’m sure you’ve been told some of this by more credible sources, either in conversation with your parents, within the admissions catalogues, or even by your new faculty members.

What I would like you to concentrate on is the value of an experience, whether it be a good one or a bad one. You will learn nothing from your time here if you cannot at least try to take the good with the bad; to value them equally. It is in those times when we confront what makes us most uncomfortable that we often find out the most about ourselves. Ask anyone who has been on OB, done pantry, played in the fourth quarter of a losing game, taken the SATs, applied to college, or spoken in front of an audience.

I’m going put to myself out on limb here, say for the sake of the experience, and quote Henry David Thoreau. Without getting too idealistic here, there is a passage from Walden that I think poignantly summarizes our desire for experience and its connection to the nature both within us and around us. Walden writes,

If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet scented herbs, and is more elastic, more starry, more immortal, - that is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you may have cause momentarily to bless yourself. (And then he writes:)The GREATESTt gains and values are farthest from being appreciated. We easily come to doubt if they exist. We soon forget them. They are the highest reality... The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched.

-Henry David Thoreau

Walden, Or Life in the Woods

As I read that passage, I believe Thoreau is describing the wondrous joy of our daily lives and all those indescribable moments which occur throughout it. He is embracing the bad with the good and wrapping them together as they are clearly inseparable; we cannot pick and choose how these moments come to us, we can only, as he says, “greet them with joy”.

I’d like to quote another author who has made a huge impact on my life and how I interpret my experiences. Perhaps his writing will better illuminate what it is I’m asking you to understand.

Growing up in Columbia in the midst of civil war, the global economic depression, and the influx of Western culture, Gabriel Garcia Marquez was perhaps the first author to capture the oral tradition of magical realism and bring it to the page. Influenced by the stories and characters from his life, Marquez won the Nobel Prize in Literature for his novel, Cien Anos de Soledad (One Hundred Years of Solitude). While its definition, and more importantly its influence over culture, and particularly that of Latin America, is extremely diverse, magical realism is at its root a manner of thinking which encourages us to see life and its continuous experiences in two interwoven ways. One, in which the mundane and common experiences of our daily lives are in fact wildly magical and two, that those magical and indescribable moments of life are simply ordinary. In many ways this blurs the line between reality and fantasy. Like the passage from Thoreau, this understanding of our daily lives asks us to embrace all experiences and reflect on them with joy.

Early in One Hundred Years of Solitude, Marquez sets his first main character, the patriarch of the Buendia family, out on an expedition to discover how far the ocean is from the village of Macondo. Like any expedition, they are met with incredible hardships and rewarded in most unexpected ways. Pay particular attention to the language and imagery used to describe the following scene, for it will allow you to better understand the magic in our daily lives:

The men on the expedition felt overwhelmed by their most ancient memories in that paradise of dampness and silence, going back to before original sin, as their boots sank into pools of steaming oil and their machetes destroyed bloody lilies and golden salamanders. For a week, almost without speaking, they went ahead like sleepwalkers through a universe of grief, lighted only by the tenuous reflection of luminous insects, and their lungs were overwhelmed by a suffocating smell of blood. They could not return because the strip that they were opening as they went along would soon close up with a new vegetation that almost seemed to grow before their eyes. “It’s all right,” Jose Arcadio Buendia would say. “The main thing is not to lose our bearings.” Always following his compass, he kept on guiding his men toward the invisible north so that they would be able to get out of that enchanted region. It was a thick night, starless, but the darkness was becoming impregnated with a fresh and clear air. Exhausted by the long crossing, they hung up their hammocks and slept deeply for the first time in two weeks. When they woke up, with the sun already high in the sky, they were speechless with fascination. Before them, surrounded by ferns and palm trees, white and powdery in the silent morning light, was an enormous Spanish galleon. Tilted slightly to the starboard, it had hanging from its intact masts the dirty rags of its sails in the midst of its rigging, which was adorned with orchids. The hull, covered with an armor of petrified barnacles and soft moss, was firmly fastened into a surface of stones. The whole structure seemed to occupy its own space, one of solitude and oblivion, protected from the vices of time and the habits of the birds. Inside, where the expeditionaries explored with careful intent, there was nothing but a thick forest of flowers.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

From “A Hundred Years of Solitude”

So, what does this all mean? What can you take from these two authors and my ramblings as you leave tonight and go to dinner? Serendipitously, the answer to that came at the tail end of a forwarded email I received today from Lance Galvin as I was putting the finishing touches on this talk. The message was from Sharlyn Harper, a friend to some of you, and a graduate of 2006. Included in the footer of her email was the phrase: “Live life to the fullest.” Now you’re saying, great another cliché! However, let me show each of you what’s in store over the course of this year, because after all, I’m not only talking to the newbies in the room.

Sophomores, you’re not rookies anymore; its time for all of you to take on the challenges of being a mentor and lead the way for the freshman class. Without being an elected leader, you’ll be working alongside the rookies; embrace the opportunities to show them the way. Take on the challenges in the classroom and on the fields as they continue to ask more and more of you.

Juniors, many of you are the leaders of the job program and all of you are going on OB in 174 days! Add to this the rigors of the college process and you have the busiest and most challenging year of any class.

Seniors, this is YOUR year. When you graduate, you’ll carry The Class of 2008 into the alumni community; believe me, it’s a badge of honor and opens many doors for you. Decide early on in the year what kind of legacy you want to leave, how will you make this school even better? Make the most of it. Engage in the Capstone Program, the lessons and opportunities afforded to you through it will last a lifetime and put you well ahead of your peers also applying to college.

And for those of you new to the school? Hold on, ‘cause its quite a ride!

If everyone here can embrace the challenges and engage yourself in each moment, each experience of your daily lives, you will achieve and discover much more then those tasks demand. Upon reflection, you’ll gain confidence to take on even greater challenges and you’ll be prepared for whatever comes down the path. To use another cliché, life is a journey. If you stay too focused on the destination or the end result, you will miss out on many of the most important “intangible and indescribable” moments of life.

As for me, I’ll be trying my best to live up to all the things I’ve just said. Leaving here a week from tomorrow after four years as a student and two years as a staff member, I’m off to adventures I can only begin to imagine. You see, I’m purposefully putting myself in a situation where I’ll be depending on my engagement in life’s experiences. I’m creating an atmosphere of pure adventure and constant change. Work and travel to Kauai, Utah, South Korea, Thailand, Vietnam, and Laos this year will test my ability to live up to everything I just told you. As 2009 comes into view, I hope to continue on that path; but, will new challenges come up? Will plans fall through? You bet, but I’m along for the ride, making the most of it, and I hope that all of you will do the same.

Thank you.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

A sign of things to come?

Gotta get out a couple highlights from this past weekend, Labor Day 2007. As I drove around New England throughout the long weekend, I was constantly reminded of how much change is taking place in my friends lives, as well as my own.

Busting out of work early on Friday to drive to Boston and celebrate the recent engagement of two great friends, Jeff Berg and Amanda Golden, I linked up with Sara Roitman and finally made our way to dinner-very late. Amanda's mother, Pam, had cooked an incredible meal complete with homemade apple sauce. Bringin the bubbly, we toasted several times over dinner to the happy couple and their future lives together. Sitting next to Sara, sharing my own plans with the table, and listening to recent adventures by Tim McGivern and Syrah Merkow, it only helped to drive home the changes taking place all around me.

Syrah is about to land a perfect job with Harvard (fingers crossed). Sara is entering her second week of Law School at BC. Jeff and Amanda, after 7 years of dating, have taken that next step and are making wedding plans! Amanda's friend, Joelle, is headed to Buenos Aires for a few months to learn the language and find some work. Amanda's mother and father have recently moved and are starting a new stage in their own lives. After dinner we ended up running into a few other friends who are starting new programs in graduate work, just completed the bar exam, or are making plans to hit the road.

Saturday saw me grab a quick lunch with Damien and Sara, then driving up to NH to load the Subie up with boxes to store over the next couple years, and driving to the lake house on Tripp to spend the evening with the family and friends. Great dinner at the Tinkhams, good wine, a fire at the Harkins, and more reminders of major change. Not only did Evan start college last week, but he also broke his wrist and has surely started stalking some of the women on campus. Vickie and Bruce Hill just bought a house on the lake, joining the Mt. Washington Valley constituency that is slowly buying up all the property on the lake! To top it all off, Clay Bucholz - the Red Sox newest pitching prospect, threw a no hitter in only his second career start!

Sunday morning I got some much needed sleep, got up to go tubing with Luke and Chase, grabbed some breakfast at Noon, and unloaded the car after two close games of cribbage on the boat with Mom. Jumped in the car and made my way over to Biddeford Pool, for another exciting night with friends. Having severely burned myself in a bad accident this summer involving a bonfire, its been nice to visit lately and fly a little farther under the radar. Its a small town, and being "the burn guy" ain't so cool. Michael McCallister, a partner in crime and all things wacky, was busy preparing for a major change in his life: law school. Along those lines, I over heard more discussion between Adrian and Taylor about the formation and ideas behind their own dream of starting a software programming company as partners; the genesis of both their talents and passions. In addition, Taylor and Becca recently moved in with one another and are putting the finishing touches on that move. Sunday night was filled with a great meal, lots of Dark and Stormies, a little playing of the guitar with Tim and Luke, a few rousing games of spoons and quarters, and a solid nights (early morning's) sleep on the floor.

Monday was a fantastic day. Woke up to a great breakfast being made, plans to hit the beach, and the excitement to finally see a Sox game this year. After a solid morning of sobering up, pickin the guitar a bit more, and picking up the house, we trudged off to Fortune Rocks for a couple hours on the beach before the end of Labor Day weekend. Tim, Luke, Jeff, and I dug a couple holes in the sand, found some rocks, and started a new beach game resembling horseshoes. It was a blast and after a couple more dips in the ocean, everyone loaded up their cars and began the four hour (normally two) march out of ME and into Boston.

I ended up parking off Beacon St. and made my way over to the only decent bar in the neighborhood (unless you want to drop $7 on a beer and deal with popped collars) - Crossroads. Grabbed a paper, ordered a beer, and waited for word from Rob on when he expected to roll into town. The beer went down slowly after several days of drinking, but I eventually took off, talked with Garett for a bit on the walk up to Kenmore, and made my into the throngs of fans streaming over the I-90 bridge and onto Landsdowne St. No matter how many times you visit Fenway Park, the whole scene takes your breath away. The whole experience is rich in baseball tradition. I ended up grabbing a beer at Game On (not a favorite), walked out to grab some $8 sausage, and pulled up next to a guy listening to his hand held AM radio which was running through the pregame show and notes from around the league. I leaned over and asked, "Yanks lose the day game?" He answered, "Sure did, we're up 6 1/2 going into tonight". Sweet.

Rob showed up in the top of the 2nd inning and we made our way up to the Budweiser Roof Deck in right field. Having never been up there, it was great to get a new view on Fenway. Of course, the green grass, Monster, and classic back drop behind home plate gave me goose-bumps. LONG game after Dice-K started pretty hot and imploded in the 5th giving up 7 runs. Got to catch up with Dave Bolduc a little, whom I hadn't seen in years and even got to see Ethan and his girlfriend Amanda, whom stopped up for a beer in between innings. After four hours, a great night from another young buck-Jacoby Ellsbury, we walked out and made our way to the cars. Getting in at 2am didn't help get back to work on Tuesday, but any kind of work these days is petty hard when I'm consumed with thoughts and plans for the next couple years.

Getting to the game with Rob furthered two themes from the weekend; friendship (and all the relaxed fun it brings) and change. Seems Rob needs a change in the pace of his life after a few years down in CT working in insurance. Not sure its the healthiest lifestyle for him and also know that he wants to be closer to family and friends. I'm all for him changing it up and hope he takes that leap...it'd be a hypocrite if I didn't condone that.

Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about all the changes taking place throughout my life and the lives of those I care about. Is it too much of a cliche to say that change is constant? It makes me proud, excited, and anxious to see these friends of mine take another big step in their lives. More then anything, I want these people (and myself) to be happy, and from all accounts, these changes are all being made with that in mind. Of course, there are even more cliches to sum all that up, but more and more I think friends and family are aware that our time is precious and we have many choices in life as to how we spend it.

I'm sure this is much more to come from these feelings, but this weekend was a shining example of the excitement which comes from taking that next step down the trail...

Tuesday, September 4, 2007