tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-154103502024-03-07T01:07:36.311-08:00 Skewed Snapshotskbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.comBlogger282125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-45079518337295475252014-07-07T20:37:00.000-07:002014-07-07T20:55:30.874-07:00Continental Divide Tour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Why write a blog post?
That’s so early 2000s. True. I’m tired of letting my writing skills become
lazy for the short facebook blurbs.
Plus, my aunts and uncles are not on facebook don’t get to hear my
stories there. So, after a long absence,
to the blogosphere it is.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I love bike touring.
So, with a few days off in a row, off I go. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Continental Divide tour.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I love the approach toward the wall of mountains, the eager
and nervous feeling of knowing that your destination is somewhere on the other side
of the pass, of knowing that no matter the weather, the strength in your legs,
or any gap in confidence, the only thing to do is to ride up and over that
beautiful intimidating wall. There is
something heart opening about not knowing what is over the horizon but being
fully committed to going there.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> And so, after finishing night shift, I drove
from Denver to Buena Vista, stopping for an hourish nap, had some lunch, and at
1pm started biking up Cottonwood Pass (<span class="st">12,126 feet)</span>, hoping to beat the afternoon thunderstorms. With a little drizzle and some thunder and
lightening to the north I wound my way up.
A beautiful sundog shown in the sky and the summer snowfields glowed in
the sun shining between the dark clouds. </span></span>
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</style><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Generously, by the time you hit the switchbacks
it’s almost a relief. By then it hurts as much as you would expect it to. Biking after nightshift, I found, is a
special type of hurt. Your body is
hungry and thirsty but doesn’t want food and no matter how much you drink, it
never feels right. But it’s not enough
to stop my awe at this beautiful place.</span></span>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQHiTQniio_pmQ0srf5IWHqZFIn-CvsYRR6WRkIwJ1bI7Loqx_YPICvn2ou0Fyl4ZlJMJYVZRJtdZ6YqXXXpx8GUKzWgroD7ktICgoWNXVJNXNKUdpvjn8-s24jDNCGpqBZD5/s1600/GOPR7709.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQHiTQniio_pmQ0srf5IWHqZFIn-CvsYRR6WRkIwJ1bI7Loqx_YPICvn2ou0Fyl4ZlJMJYVZRJtdZ6YqXXXpx8GUKzWgroD7ktICgoWNXVJNXNKUdpvjn8-s24jDNCGpqBZD5/s1600/GOPR7709.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I reached the top of the second highest pass in Colorado, completely
out of water and gasping but also grinning and triumphant. I had been to the top of Cottonwood Pass by
car about month earlier and knew there would be a number of cars at the top,
admiring the continental divide. I knew
I could find someone to give me some water.
Sure enough, I made friends and soon was on my way down the winding dirt
backside. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNk81H-vkGZUK6PDZJ3mtTGaMKEEwY9TokZFd6JLoLuMiYpLQwVOA0A9nrmWi-btin7z9IxWMA5L7XrXb-Q8wc8MZ0kPpNwTDE0PY9AHmnDparkmf8MGMVOp-pGnPBjYEqXKC/s1600/2014-07-03+16.28.04.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNk81H-vkGZUK6PDZJ3mtTGaMKEEwY9TokZFd6JLoLuMiYpLQwVOA0A9nrmWi-btin7z9IxWMA5L7XrXb-Q8wc8MZ0kPpNwTDE0PY9AHmnDparkmf8MGMVOp-pGnPBjYEqXKC/s1600/2014-07-03+16.28.04.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Check out those curves down the back of Cottonwood!!! </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6QHN9yOMje71CiJFKh9wjUJtOiS5CHGbJw7BurWx5Bf1aCoV9x1Tq8bjZJXAjGba6iDiaoGMH2bUTcyckXyWDR90N8LOjpmBSQhU2MJQpZDKXYlY9yJcObe5UI6iWdK88E0F/s1600/2014-07-03+16.27.20.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6QHN9yOMje71CiJFKh9wjUJtOiS5CHGbJw7BurWx5Bf1aCoV9x1Tq8bjZJXAjGba6iDiaoGMH2bUTcyckXyWDR90N8LOjpmBSQhU2MJQpZDKXYlY9yJcObe5UI6iWdK88E0F/s1600/2014-07-03+16.27.20.jpg" height="155" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">At 5pm, rolling through the beautiful valleys of the Rocky
Mountains, my body gently reminded me I’d been awake for basically the last 24
hours. Then it not so gently reminded
me. But there was nothing to do but soak
in the amazing view and continue on. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Still half in nurse mode, I ran self systems checks, wondered how my
kidneys were fairing and how my electrolytes were. I considered my likely glycogen deficit,
wondered what my pH was chillin at and had a snack while riding. </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGDLnZXNgkx08EuUQNmuRLz55ysg5yF3b_AwGbeKHzDPuOwFcLANi4phvIU_WAobfBDhyphenhyphenJZJdFMiyP5Yw3Q3yqFPtmhERqd3wRjde1GEy8I8lxH5jJTuVge1sZLTo5QID73J7Z/s1600/2014-07-03+17.30.22+HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGDLnZXNgkx08EuUQNmuRLz55ysg5yF3b_AwGbeKHzDPuOwFcLANi4phvIU_WAobfBDhyphenhyphenJZJdFMiyP5Yw3Q3yqFPtmhERqd3wRjde1GEy8I8lxH5jJTuVge1sZLTo5QID73J7Z/s1600/2014-07-03+17.30.22+HDR.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
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-</style></a>I arrived at a lovely hostel in Gunnison, CO after 6 hours
of riding and eagerly went to sleep.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/466123670">http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/466123670</a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsmZPLcECAJZn2y5K7Z4pTZ376a6-d6zI8XwDIwwkKzH_A_Ya1TrXZiF0gPxAUKpZF0Xp_Q0iUoQPYD218d2OGnLIiDA6sRZO-UOSYmHUW6LYpPAC3MQPtuTVeeL2H7TX7kT3N/s1600/2014-07-04+08.41.42+HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsmZPLcECAJZn2y5K7Z4pTZ376a6-d6zI8XwDIwwkKzH_A_Ya1TrXZiF0gPxAUKpZF0Xp_Q0iUoQPYD218d2OGnLIiDA6sRZO-UOSYmHUW6LYpPAC3MQPtuTVeeL2H7TX7kT3N/s1600/2014-07-04+08.41.42+HDR.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><style>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Day 2: Riding alone
vs with friends has advantages and disadvantages. For instance, I can wake up, have a snack,
plan to skip a real breakfast in favor of eating protein/food bars on my bike
“until that first town vaguely in my mind somewhere on Rt 92 on the map….” This is a good choice for covering lots of
ground. If I was traveling with someone else, they
probably would have noticed it was over 100km until that first little town on
Rt 92 and that’s a long way before having a proper meal. But no matter, I had plenty of snacks with me
and the desert mesas, colors and rivers were stunning to ride through. It’s * almost * like you can eat the view.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEntkuSRw5iBWR_nBBftQuk2qZH2PFxhKJJhkbXzp-H8eKfOPv5mUptfgsd9FtN4hBEQd-Ue3c7N9hraXvKj-zjO1_-EcuM0iWQlLlkrZ9kNkXNYsodtV74bcPF-hlnc_hd5f5/s1600/2014-07-04+10.19.16.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEntkuSRw5iBWR_nBBftQuk2qZH2PFxhKJJhkbXzp-H8eKfOPv5mUptfgsd9FtN4hBEQd-Ue3c7N9hraXvKj-zjO1_-EcuM0iWQlLlkrZ9kNkXNYsodtV74bcPF-hlnc_hd5f5/s1600/2014-07-04+10.19.16.jpg" height="155" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I love long distance bike riding because the pace and
repetitive motion helps me reflect and process. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span>
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<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I work in an ICU.
There are a lot of stories to process.
In the moment when all of the critical care is happening, there isn’t
space to absorb the sadness of it all.
In order to be effective, it’s better to focus to some extent on the
tasks, the critical thinking, the science of the body. Within that, of course, there are moments of
connection, of being a part of people’s journeys, of taking someone’s hand, of
holding the space for people to be who they need to be in those moments. But during the workday, it’s not the space to
lean into the sadness of chronic disease, death, and loss. We focus on the small wins, the big wins, the
hope for people to get better, the hope that people will walk out, hug their
loved ones again, snuggle with their dogs.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghRgzcFCYsI3QhawkMzWVs3LG3koqjh4q-POJIaWLzkwRlzFRJsZTo0HT2ZZRLDM-cIAbEm4m3x9jd86pbfNWVsLUgxgAd5_fPUwtGwPsOkaSgmLV-mBijwtP6NfjxjEPCQWRM/s1600/2014-07-04+10.41.41.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghRgzcFCYsI3QhawkMzWVs3LG3koqjh4q-POJIaWLzkwRlzFRJsZTo0HT2ZZRLDM-cIAbEm4m3x9jd86pbfNWVsLUgxgAd5_fPUwtGwPsOkaSgmLV-mBijwtP6NfjxjEPCQWRM/s1600/2014-07-04+10.41.41.jpg" height="137" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Biking up this beautiful quiet highway, suddenly the stories
and words of the patients I’d recently lost hit me hard. The gravity and the tears for these people
I’d cared for who didn’t make it came all at once and left me at the side of
the road, gasping for breath, crying, unsure of how to make sense of it all.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUKSk3KUvKGk8ChQyoGivzRzm-9dab6YZKsN4Pt7jvjsCbCyF9ApuDsY1IRPdCa9pMnKSOp-KWEkqfbViGjZI3bVbzP14zN3pK7HCIVclKY-tnkh6PQ7pVS_Wo6yzonjVeQiw/s1600/2014-07-04+11.10.49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUKSk3KUvKGk8ChQyoGivzRzm-9dab6YZKsN4Pt7jvjsCbCyF9ApuDsY1IRPdCa9pMnKSOp-KWEkqfbViGjZI3bVbzP14zN3pK7HCIVclKY-tnkh6PQ7pVS_Wo6yzonjVeQiw/s1600/2014-07-04+11.10.49.jpg" height="137" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In February, someone posted a video of a stand up
poet talking about her girlfriend who was a trauma nurse. Together they would read news about outer
space in the hope that they could capture that sense of the universe being big
enough to hold all the grief in these deaths.
Looking at the beautiful road winding it’s way up through quaking
ghostly Aspen to look out over huge glacial valleys, I reached for that
feeling. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYw6bdxHP4qT1d0Og5qzI_JULAz8pSitGLtxGGallvuXh79LVDDDAeDR7I7Iw_FA9x8S7dxsEfiIXp17WHHaFcvHZGFF-OYrXy-qSOxJOWD5UxEM7EGsEFdETgvj_D-rOGMYD/s1600/2014-07-04+12.47.46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYw6bdxHP4qT1d0Og5qzI_JULAz8pSitGLtxGGallvuXh79LVDDDAeDR7I7Iw_FA9x8S7dxsEfiIXp17WHHaFcvHZGFF-OYrXy-qSOxJOWD5UxEM7EGsEFdETgvj_D-rOGMYD/s1600/2014-07-04+12.47.46.jpg" height="137" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The sky is big enough to hold it all. It’s big enough to hold these people’s
stories of their lives and hopes and deaths.
It’s big enough to hold our hopes and our sadness for the losses. The sky is immense. And beyond the sky, beyond the things I think
I know, out on the horizon, there are mountains beyond mountains.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And so the road continued to an eventual lunch and a few
little towns before turning up another valley.
At the hundred-mile mark, the road headed up. Somewhere over McClure pass, in the Aspen
valley, my dad waited for me to arrive. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxE58uvlvFoucq1YFqzCa8TJIc-5wdR3cK1bXDk6nmLL4LOxp085_1NrRaOKlJUYnDOd0Qpf8OxMQCpm3koTuL-2sPRwJjT_vNShaYWRUq25gKEnCo5ZbZ1uUKByB4G0Sb-hB/s1600/2014-07-04+19.44.19+HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxE58uvlvFoucq1YFqzCa8TJIc-5wdR3cK1bXDk6nmLL4LOxp085_1NrRaOKlJUYnDOd0Qpf8OxMQCpm3koTuL-2sPRwJjT_vNShaYWRUq25gKEnCo5ZbZ1uUKByB4G0Sb-hB/s1600/2014-07-04+19.44.19+HDR.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There are days on a bike where you feel badass, crushing one
hill at a time, flying through space.
And there are days when your strength is long gone and it’s only
stubbornness to pull you up the hill. I’ve
told people that biking up mountains is 20% preparation and 80% moxie. Either I’m wrong on that ratio, or I hadn’t actually
completed enough training to get me through this 227km (142 mile) day. I stopped to fix a flat tire, I soaked up the
incredible scenery, I admired the sky, I paused to listen to the Aspen and very
very slowly I made my way over McClure pass.
</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If I was traveling with someone else, I would have likely
split the day, staying in Paonia, having a glass of local wine to end the
beautiful day. In that case we would
have hit the pass fresh and early in the morning, the slow climb up comfortable
and easy. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But there is also transcendence in embracing a road that you
know will hurt like hell. It’s a
different adventure when you face that voice inside that wonders, how are you
going to find the strength to do this? </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17SEdd6IVKlyc8PbFvOtWnFyuuJNAy2NY0yugZhHV93poA0hXbU188vn55OSVcNet4qIPLZsaiW344TFZJf0B7EDImmyXukMbzITekGHMMl2Z39ba2znRQ2zWj7rdtlxnLyEY/s1600/2014-07-04+18.08.18+HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17SEdd6IVKlyc8PbFvOtWnFyuuJNAy2NY0yugZhHV93poA0hXbU188vn55OSVcNet4qIPLZsaiW344TFZJf0B7EDImmyXukMbzITekGHMMl2Z39ba2znRQ2zWj7rdtlxnLyEY/s1600/2014-07-04+18.08.18+HDR.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The last six miles to the top of McClure Pass, neither
particularly hard grade or high elevation compared to other recent rides, was
some of the hardest and slowest riding I’ve ever done. It was not a victory march, but it didn’t
matter because it gave me time to be breathless for the sky and the mountains
and the whispers of the trees as I inched my way up. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbeCE6RM_xjI8_yIIkidgg52itqEq2hjlTRR_hx1t0JUeJ26QsCK-Qo1pVKSX5jx7cuwlRjSgWuUj3CT2WQa3rOAGxDPzqQKT-AlxCPGDzY5iIQY3Eal1V3NyxrgfQdKRSl5B/s1600/2014-07-04+20.11.11+HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbeCE6RM_xjI8_yIIkidgg52itqEq2hjlTRR_hx1t0JUeJ26QsCK-Qo1pVKSX5jx7cuwlRjSgWuUj3CT2WQa3rOAGxDPzqQKT-AlxCPGDzY5iIQY3Eal1V3NyxrgfQdKRSl5B/s1600/2014-07-04+20.11.11+HDR.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I cleared the top at dusk, descending in the fading light
into the White River wilderness, granite cliffs and gorgeous rivers. The air cool, refreshing and infinitely rewarding. I
rolled into Carbondale around 10pm, thirteen and a half hours after leaving the
hostel, 10 hrs, 20min of time moving on the bike.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/466127264">http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/466127264</a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Day 4: The route was
simple, bike path from Carbondale to Aspen.
Highway up Independence pass.
Return to my car in Buena Vista.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And so it goes. The
trick to riding long distances up hills is </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1) <span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span>keep the rubber side down</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">2) point the bike up hill</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">3) keep pedaling</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">4) if you are tired, keep pedaling. If you are thirsty, drink some water (or
whatever) but keep pedaling. If you
hungry or feel weird, eat something and keep pedaling.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikctANDTRDxNX7XuXGgXUbOx5UMaqwTMPsYqp5jDIgTwgPFWceDhVwzExc-iEbWXF4o-Zngby1v1PporYN89Lqe0G0_fOTUY5jpjPj2ZCZoATCHF4tRhS6KXTt7IIF90Q7jTB3/s1600/2014-07-06+14.16.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikctANDTRDxNX7XuXGgXUbOx5UMaqwTMPsYqp5jDIgTwgPFWceDhVwzExc-iEbWXF4o-Zngby1v1PporYN89Lqe0G0_fOTUY5jpjPj2ZCZoATCHF4tRhS6KXTt7IIF90Q7jTB3/s1600/2014-07-06+14.16.52.jpg" height="139" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">These rules do break down for me a little at high altitudes,
though, because I’m breathing so hard I can’t keep moving and eat at the same
time. But that’s ok, Aspen Valley is
beautiful and photogenic and it was lovely to take photo and snack breaks. Though the highway is busy, the traffic moves
pretty slowly due to the tight turns. I
was one of at least a dozen cyclists out that day, some faster than me, some
not. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2MVtrDRnU9KFh7vOSCHW-_8KldTyYpMGc28uyzPlKHjF5dShSwmStUsq0KBdjIVsMVPq-fJnCm-4p4Z0DYgy2R3U53YeK1rngmqURvnElllHr_5m2nbRBIlrtRkAUQj3akOB7/s1600/2014-07-06+14.31.22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2MVtrDRnU9KFh7vOSCHW-_8KldTyYpMGc28uyzPlKHjF5dShSwmStUsq0KBdjIVsMVPq-fJnCm-4p4Z0DYgy2R3U53YeK1rngmqURvnElllHr_5m2nbRBIlrtRkAUQj3akOB7/s1600/2014-07-06+14.31.22.jpg" height="139" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As I approached the final push, you can see the road cut
into the side of the valley. Cars yelled
encouragement and the slow glow of pride began to swell knowing I was only
miles from the top of the highest paved pass across the continental divide (12,095 ft). From there it was a stunning descent in
mountains that rival Patagonia and may be some of the most beautiful in this
incredible world.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/466131172</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There’s a lot of internet buzz about why people run long
distances. Is it to fight the
blerch? Is it to overcome that small
darkness within us? </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2GrDM2x2SThKr8O7c1aF4osIKUWHSr8TiDqoJkXLsgQ0o2SEk1VT5ODx4KbwlqPvl6kJlrmUHFa2tuEPF_bXkbd4GBC2lkoDUth0Fw7K1ZAe6pEbTvGUjyKJep31wUpcz7Og/s1600/2014-07-06+15.35.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2GrDM2x2SThKr8O7c1aF4osIKUWHSr8TiDqoJkXLsgQ0o2SEk1VT5ODx4KbwlqPvl6kJlrmUHFa2tuEPF_bXkbd4GBC2lkoDUth0Fw7K1ZAe6pEbTvGUjyKJep31wUpcz7Og/s1600/2014-07-06+15.35.11.jpg" height="164" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For me, it’s more to find that spot within that knows resilience,
fortitude, courage, and persistence and when I’ve found that small flame to
nourish it, to grow it, to make it big enough that I can carry it forward to
difficult conversations, to moments at work where I fear I won’t be good
enough, to days when I don’t want to get out of bed. Because if you’ve found that place within
that can cross the continental divide twice in a long weekend, begin a tour
straight from night shift, bike over McClure pass at the end of a 100 mile+ day,
be ready for the hail or rain of any mountain storm and push through the worst
saddle soreness of any tour, then the rest of the daily struggles should be
well within my grasp, right?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuEKB3Z6cz5JdJglDHuWlmY8cbdHL64qrXXPGQH3_HYj8Pu3_e_48I2xGiXRokYDK_V8ZgYzygve72iTW_wzXyrJZeZiW_yevWnKdAV8RMg-jW0j0JXhZVQUI2EsbOpIV2Bo8/s1600/2014-07-06+16.23.16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuEKB3Z6cz5JdJglDHuWlmY8cbdHL64qrXXPGQH3_HYj8Pu3_e_48I2xGiXRokYDK_V8ZgYzygve72iTW_wzXyrJZeZiW_yevWnKdAV8RMg-jW0j0JXhZVQUI2EsbOpIV2Bo8/s1600/2014-07-06+16.23.16.jpg" height="140" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I bike to feel small.
I bike because the mountains are so much bigger and more permanent than
any of my worries, heartaches, or angsty rants.
I bike because it’s the closest I feel to touching that big beautiful
sky that can hold everything.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I bike because it’s a different way to inhabit my body, to
know what I’m made of, to explore the world, to feel curves of the earth, to
have a relationship with gravity, to celebrate the glory of these mountains.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I bike to settle comfortably into that space where I know
how much I can improve, where perfection has no place, where the pretty ones
are always painful and the dirt road is where it gets interesting. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And by biking through these places, I make them home.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbM_voouMISz7lGN9imyLy0iEhdfv_bpiO1XDRgvHjJPURm9mPmAIy3pa8hUmF0z-Fbh8E2iW77aj0YWwajPYY7eVNsmokvKampQhr5HQNPNXtnDAgHOjQSQup-fmHzFZ75y9N/s1600/2014-07-06+17.23.09+HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbM_voouMISz7lGN9imyLy0iEhdfv_bpiO1XDRgvHjJPURm9mPmAIy3pa8hUmF0z-Fbh8E2iW77aj0YWwajPYY7eVNsmokvKampQhr5HQNPNXtnDAgHOjQSQup-fmHzFZ75y9N/s1600/2014-07-06+17.23.09+HDR.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The adventures continue…</span></span></div>
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kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-8012128730001757552011-05-30T18:35:00.002-07:002011-05-30T18:39:05.366-07:00Moving, 2011 versionIt's just stuff, I say.<br />I'm lying. like I so often do.<br />There is my old cell phone with the radio, lying in the trash. There<br />are the hopes that I would listen to the radio like I did in high<br />school here, feeling part of the pop culture, singing the same songs<br />everyone knows, feeling full of hope that this could be my life too,<br />feeling like I wasn't just an outsider posing in a uniform like<br />everyone else (but on the weekends running to the park and listening<br />to Sheryl Crow over and over and dancing all alone)<br />Box and all, goes in the burnable? no, I should separate out the<br />instructions... which I've work so hard to read, though repetition<br />drills and sitting with a coworker reading out loud between classes,<br />with hundreds of dollars invested in books and dictionaries. It's not<br />my language anymore.<br /><br />And the phone should go in unburnable, right? Or can I maybe recycle<br />it? Does it still have my old pictures of biking through the Nikko<br />mountains and feeling so unstoppable and free? Is the browser history<br />long dead after long train journeys skimming through craigslist ads,<br />wondering how I can find more people and fluff up my life and settle<br />down here?<br /><br />And those comics on the wall? I might as well throw them out. I<br />mean, sure they are my brother's but they are printed off the online<br />versions. Sure they are this link to what we both felt in the jungle.<br /> Sure they are a link that pulls us closer in a common subtext that no<br />one else really gets.<br /><br />Burnable.<br /><br />And the maps. Sure they are just from a hundred yen store. One I<br />made a point to go out of my way and visit because most dont have<br />these maps. Maps that I stare at and find inspiration over and over.<br />But where will that inspiration lead me now? I have different hill to<br />train on and different roads to ride. These mountains will soon be<br />too far away to hear their seductive calls weekend after weekend. But<br />no. I'll pack these anyways.<br /><br />My mother's art and a beautiful handwritten birthday letter, packed<br />safely away. But what about all these drugstore cards? My experience<br />tells me that you never know when that stupid and simple card will be,<br />suddenly, the last letter that loved one has sent. And what then?<br />Does that make everything memorabilia for the possible sudden death of<br />everyone I know.<br /><br />Sometimes.<br /><br />Burnable, nonetheless. I know how they say the words, 'I love you'<br />and I know how they sign it on the bottom of cards. I know that in my<br />heart. I will always be able to picture my mother's hand writing.<br />That is enough.<br /><br />People tell me of all the things I should keep. People tell me that<br />surely, I'll have room in my bag for this or that... maybe I do. but<br />really I don't<br /><br />I can still feel the cold of sitting on the cement in the storage room<br />with all my moms stuff. One year after her death, my brother and I<br />finally doing something about it all. Her old clothes with the same<br />smell. The childhood chair that was the best fort turned upside down.<br /> The flour grinder that she used before baking her own bread, the<br />house smelling of yeast and a warm oven for days.<br /><br />I will never find cinnamon rolls as good as those, filled with walnuts<br />and brown sugar and hours of her strong hands kneeling the dough.<br /><br />But what could I do with a 100 pound flour grinder when I live my life<br />out of a backpack more than an ocean away?<br /><br />And away it goes.<br /><br />The pots and pans I don't mind. Most are stolen anyways. When I<br />moved back I swore I was going to invest in a good set of kitchen<br />knives and that, alone, would make a symbol of home.<br /><br />Backpacking through Argentina, my temporary romance blooming with a<br />man who loved to cook and got so tired of hostel knives he bought his<br />own. Carried it around in his backpack as we traipsed through dusty<br />wine country towns. Because to cook is to make a home. Even if it's<br />for a single night. Garlic and onion stained hands, the rhythmic<br />attack of vegetables preparing to make a lovely piece of a story that<br />seems to always be so filled with laughter.<br /><br />But in the end I never got good knives. In the end I picked up some<br />cheap but sharp ones off of craigslist. Slicing open my finger early<br />in the year, desperate to make dwindling savings account stretch to my first<br />paycheck, sacrificing sleep to cook for myself and save a few yen.<br /><br />Those knives can go. Any home is fine for them.<br /><br />And the mirrors, glued to the shelves that had to be moved closer to<br />the floor as aftershock after aftershock hit my life. The mirrors<br />that I stared at my naked body, sometimes with a proud smile and far<br />too often with eyes trained on imperfections. But that is too normal<br />to mention really. What I will miss about those mirrors, much more,<br />is how my lovers would catch secret glances of themselves. In that<br />quiet relief of, ok, I guess I'm good enough after all. Or in that<br />hidden grin. Or in that understated flex. In that raised eyebrow and<br />that completely personal moment when we regard ourselves so truely<br />naked. I will miss being that witness. The mirrors will go where ever the shelves do. Burnable?<br /><br />The last time I moved myself across the ocean, preparing to adventure<br />with only a backpack full of sundries to my name, I culled my life<br />with the glib motto of 'burn it all down.' The glib is gone this<br />time. Perhaps because I tried harder. Had stronger intentions. Sunk<br />my teeth in more. This time wasn't a lark. And nor is what I'm jumping into.<br /><br />So with every piece of stuff, out goes a good intention, a fantastic<br />idea that might make everything ok, straw after straw after straw that<br />were never enough to break down my resistance to settling for this.<br />And with every clunk into the trash I send a small prayer upwards that<br />my life is not just doing the same thing over and over and expecting<br />different results.<br /><br />That despite my constant movement and slipping from one place to<br />another. Despite never owning a goddamn plate all 5 years in Tokyo.<br />Despite all the trouble I have having a real conversation with<br />anyone... That I still made some mark here.<br /><br />Being on the road I came up with something. And when I told it to<br />people they tended to repeat it. So maybe it was something worth<br />saying.<br /><br />Home is where you can find your way to the bathroom in the dark. Where you know your trails.<br />Home is where you plant something and it grows, whether it be a friendship or an idea or a fix to some problem.<br />Home is where you'll be missed when you are gone.<br /><br />And so even with the culling of things. Even with the murdering of<br />all those lost good intentions that never bloomed. Even with the<br />eagerness and hope I find in thinking about dancing in Oregon and<br />being able to kiss someone goodnight.<br /><br />I hope that this was still home. I would rather grieve for losing it<br />than for failing to make it. Better to have loved.<br /><br />And with that.<br /><br />The adventures continue.kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-70667323308755319692011-04-26T12:01:00.005-07:002011-04-26T13:19:18.101-07:00Sakura 2011<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWmA3jFuhrjIdk9Gu2v3YhTl7dhUlSkkjWxj4t7afLzK6EmHzTPJ54g7YCyJQPvKeyNuySbj5edpyW8u0Gw5Glw7N5Al46PKtW-QokDHc17kEmaAPifs9VMgqzsPvGBLY8rcH-/s1600/IMGP1873.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWmA3jFuhrjIdk9Gu2v3YhTl7dhUlSkkjWxj4t7afLzK6EmHzTPJ54g7YCyJQPvKeyNuySbj5edpyW8u0Gw5Glw7N5Al46PKtW-QokDHc17kEmaAPifs9VMgqzsPvGBLY8rcH-/s400/IMGP1873.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599970974752523426" border="0" /></a><br />I've spent a lot of time this year trying to put into words what makes the cherry blossoms feel so downright profound here. There are cherry trees in D.C. (supposedly). There are cherry trees in Eugene and Portland... but somehow the trees I've seen elsewhere never felt quite like the event that the cherries blooming in Tokyo are.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhviAO9ikIWRv2Y5KsVsl-jmZip7qdwxfUaZL_IaUou195_Eehyphenhyphen5zj8Dzdl6l7W6hX4jWk_Kltal1DjzY2CqNt7FVmceEbC0g4hqQH2ss2XCI3Cd9P5j076GsTkVz28NrEc1_Y7/s1600/IMGP1780.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhviAO9ikIWRv2Y5KsVsl-jmZip7qdwxfUaZL_IaUou195_Eehyphenhyphen5zj8Dzdl6l7W6hX4jWk_Kltal1DjzY2CqNt7FVmceEbC0g4hqQH2ss2XCI3Cd9P5j076GsTkVz28NrEc1_Y7/s400/IMGP1780.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599970990693348898" border="0" /></a><br />Perhaps, as I love this city in part for it's remarkable doublethink/hypocrisy the cherry trees are a part of that.<br />When the cherries bloom even the most workaholic salary-man stops for a moment, pauses and appreciates nature.<br />In a city so safe, so clean (well...), so polite, the park is still full of trash and half eaten food and stale beer in the mornings. And the crows, loud and ecstatic. Shouting and cawing, "This is the best day of my life!"<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBvQ56MfMpYGOcA4czguWIn8iZqwGCjiEim4coERuyTbErYtJXs2TG1lfK4gomuB638eHUK6NqvN57wql6U-Qib0mCZGbOyx11DZzpoiEB3hIGvTTMjoFrvqSCt6WeaL9m-KIF/s1600/crow"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBvQ56MfMpYGOcA4czguWIn8iZqwGCjiEim4coERuyTbErYtJXs2TG1lfK4gomuB638eHUK6NqvN57wql6U-Qib0mCZGbOyx11DZzpoiEB3hIGvTTMjoFrvqSCt6WeaL9m-KIF/s400/crow" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599981617990021842" border="0" /></a><br />In the most boring cement suburbs, along a stoned in slew (full of murky slow water and feral coy) the blossoms at night catch the light and the beautiful smell catches you by surprise.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKyOXB0RRu4-wzZaPDBd6xPHW949RB9MXR3YED1BbmIfl9ZD-C5S8WDoAa5z3v6NAcetEdUYxSdafpkb_44eB_AZPckUhcowq31vNTBzTa4hyphenhyphenKtEOOFs69mN-PMUawA3NV2_a/s1600/IMGP1852.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKyOXB0RRu4-wzZaPDBd6xPHW949RB9MXR3YED1BbmIfl9ZD-C5S8WDoAa5z3v6NAcetEdUYxSdafpkb_44eB_AZPckUhcowq31vNTBzTa4hyphenhyphenKtEOOFs69mN-PMUawA3NV2_a/s400/IMGP1852.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599970979946753154" border="0" /></a><br />This year, local/neighborhood governments put up signs saying please do not party in the parks as usual out of respect for the tragedy in Tohoku (northern Japan). After all nearly 130,000 people are still homeless with no where to return to. The evacuation zone around the nuclear power plants increased. The after shocks continue... how could it possibly be appropriate to party in the parks?!?<br /><br />Well, at least as appropriate as continuing to work 10-12 hours a day 5-6 days a week like 'normal.' and pretending, for the sake of the country, for the sake of the students, for the sake of our friends that everything is ok. <br /><br />To say that we are all back at work and that the blackouts have been postponed is true. Some days do feel normal. Some days when everyone got woken up in the night by earthquakes and then rattled all morning... don't feel normal. And I don't think we should be hurring back to this type or normality.<br /><br />So the Emporer and the neighborhood governments said don't party in the parks. And what did the people do? Well, there were fewer revelers this year. The parties were smaller and a little more low key, but they still happened. One park, the revelers got kicked out with a guilt trip so they moved to the stairs of the Government buildings with their musical instruments and put out a hat for donations to send north. They raised about $3000USD that day. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2MhomvkSX6iAv7rpgGyOma2xGRzQzX2upwj4C5u5QclIIwqiXEDdnlEj-qoPL-9fcBdPH42FLX9rGyE5Tx3XMx4IR80-VyECYW_VVa8dB5rTUZca1R2tl_z45FjtlfMeSXssE/s1600/IMGP1910.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2MhomvkSX6iAv7rpgGyOma2xGRzQzX2upwj4C5u5QclIIwqiXEDdnlEj-qoPL-9fcBdPH42FLX9rGyE5Tx3XMx4IR80-VyECYW_VVa8dB5rTUZca1R2tl_z45FjtlfMeSXssE/s400/IMGP1910.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599981621640775458" border="0" /></a>I think a lot of iconic Japanese imagery--the cherry blossoms, the cicadas, the maples etc symbolize not onlyl the seasons but rebirth. They are something we wait for every year. They are something we track-- have they started in Kyushu yet? There are forecasts for when which part of the country will burst into bloom. We collectively hold our breath. And Japan is all about the collective action, expectation, oo of 'that's awfully pretty'<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikaf7XAX-gbR9GVm9D07ohvjdBl-qF91zPEIBJM2TUICSTkUNNEop1jpxb8YuRd2ch4d9N-ymRfLbCa4D5XbK-4zgw1ThG6hfzmggrwI7DwmVwxF913x7WdOKs8QDprn5Rh8r/s1600/IMGP1918.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikaf7XAX-gbR9GVm9D07ohvjdBl-qF91zPEIBJM2TUICSTkUNNEop1jpxb8YuRd2ch4d9N-ymRfLbCa4D5XbK-4zgw1ThG6hfzmggrwI7DwmVwxF913x7WdOKs8QDprn5Rh8r/s400/IMGP1918.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599981634726602338" border="0" /></a>It's an event worth celebrating and often coincides with the beginning of the school year and the when freshman workers enter new companies. Last year, there I was nervously scurrying to the train early in the morning, glancing up at the cherries and smiling as I rushed off to my brand new shiny job full of optimism and eagar to impress.<br /><br />It's on of many of Japan's rites of passage that I've hit. A black suit with a white collared shirt, introducing myself to my new collegues with the set phrases. Hoping to work hard enough to succeed. Hoping that this job will be 'the one.' The one that becomes a career. <br /><br />It didn't work out that way, but I've certainly grown from the experience, the challenge, the successes here and there. <br /><br />And in two weeks, the moment has passed. The city as a whole relaxes a little and lets out a sigh of satisfied relief. The green leaves bloom immediately so that it's hard to remember that there was a frosted winter sky beyond those branches just a month ago.<br /><br />The days warm and life moves on.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9yWhfbGQAZHXuyp-ZpJIQPpnpUDbndQF8eNYwa08Le8gqCJnFiiji44UbVtlqR2WgsRhTz3d673KsfrkzGtY7si2U95S9S3u-FyK_ahDg6hq1Cc1y7Y9eA8iFe5nwRqM3GHaw/s1600/IMGP1950.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9yWhfbGQAZHXuyp-ZpJIQPpnpUDbndQF8eNYwa08Le8gqCJnFiiji44UbVtlqR2WgsRhTz3d673KsfrkzGtY7si2U95S9S3u-FyK_ahDg6hq1Cc1y7Y9eA8iFe5nwRqM3GHaw/s400/IMGP1950.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599981644201825746" border="0" /></a>I keep working on this year's "Songs to Skip Town By" and read books like "Down and Out in Paris and London." I look forward to the new chapter and the new career. I look forward to eventually tramping through the jungle again and dancing Oregon nights away. But that's not to say that I won't miss 35 million people packed together and collectively holding their breath for the first cherry to bloom.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWZZ2ICFoaM8wH6NB5-px-zkzF780LP4IUbna0RWpgWpj00IvGE2SRNpglROxdHclCix-btqy2HuHh8XcTXmw5ubr50pP_Av7_GNc14NVEZxI7cdlkMkX_yECMLTV36KlzJmM/s1600/IMGP1807.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWZZ2ICFoaM8wH6NB5-px-zkzF780LP4IUbna0RWpgWpj00IvGE2SRNpglROxdHclCix-btqy2HuHh8XcTXmw5ubr50pP_Av7_GNc14NVEZxI7cdlkMkX_yECMLTV36KlzJmM/s400/IMGP1807.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599970988300748370" border="0" /></a>kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-66667940194597309412011-04-20T06:11:00.001-07:002011-04-20T06:17:16.894-07:00Morning lightIt's been a year of mornings and learning to love them. <br />It's easy if I'm not rushing, if the insomnia hasn't been so bad.<br />And it's easy on mornings like this.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5WZ3zfAQJszfWJReq3W1-BSjIpB_Y4KquwJqJKkbM0We_yW8wXY1tl72bMBsG6os0R9s6-uAa9rXs8cR9-JMFbgOcsY_RNR12r-ZvnQYLD1qZPbY7OUE2nJ2YDkQkT60d5zW/s1600/IMGP1758.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5WZ3zfAQJszfWJReq3W1-BSjIpB_Y4KquwJqJKkbM0We_yW8wXY1tl72bMBsG6os0R9s6-uAa9rXs8cR9-JMFbgOcsY_RNR12r-ZvnQYLD1qZPbY7OUE2nJ2YDkQkT60d5zW/s400/IMGP1758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597653605512704306" border="0" /></a>kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-48700819680617396202011-04-10T05:25:00.005-07:002011-04-10T06:08:13.920-07:00At a loss for words: A Tokyo interlude<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXB5LLAZM-lEj0J9aSgWCwFB4r_usG987HkVT1QdnYuknWU8vGMfClZyVPmeRdHa70bsXmaqJJ9LSTqldl7gbUYx_bwj74hxyBXcuVEdEamwlqtpnh7du3LdNSseOdeSEwwDI/s1600/photo%25282%2529.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXB5LLAZM-lEj0J9aSgWCwFB4r_usG987HkVT1QdnYuknWU8vGMfClZyVPmeRdHa70bsXmaqJJ9LSTqldl7gbUYx_bwj74hxyBXcuVEdEamwlqtpnh7du3LdNSseOdeSEwwDI/s400/photo%25282%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593938157999254322" border="0" /></a>#1 The cherry blossoms bloom in the street lights.<br /><br />So, I'm back in Tokyo and back at work and for better or worse, normal life goes on. I still can't think too logically or articulately about everything that is happening in part because it hits me on so many different levels. I have so much history with this city and country and culture. It was complicated before March 11th and it's more complicated now.<br /><br />I'm back at work and as April is a busy month for schools we have a lot of long days and a lot of six day weeks. I'm helping train up two new teachers (one in math, one in science) and trying to sort out my own stuff. Classes start tomorrow and I know I am not prepared enough, that I will sleep fitfully and that 5am will come much too soon. But so it goes. I had a lovely lazy Sunday that allowed me to sleep in, unpack my bags, vacuum and cook. Perhaps what I love most about this space is that I could look out from my balcony at the park, full of laughing children, kites, cherry trees and my favorite things in Tokyo.<br /><br />As I am at a loss for words, I've been trying a project of taking one picture a day--usually just with my iPhone as I seem to have lost the cable for my proper camera--of something I love about this time and place. With all the changes, I find I sometimes slip into thinking about everything that drives me crazy because it justifies moving on. But I would rather not. I would rather revel in all the things I love.<br /><br />So here are some pictures. I've uploaded them to facebook already so for some of your it's nothing new. Perhaps I will find some words for them here.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgxqcVkm26ZXzfp2HtGf0I0eyQfo0QDeEF2U7IIRMHbOCA2JgxPWePI5eYqdJTRJ-Hi-yz1lLbYr0-ktx9EZCA784BBItBYU0lzMVNQZv78u_UeKruxbNnhPzM8nhaBvifOKG/s1600/photo%25286%2529.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgxqcVkm26ZXzfp2HtGf0I0eyQfo0QDeEF2U7IIRMHbOCA2JgxPWePI5eYqdJTRJ-Hi-yz1lLbYr0-ktx9EZCA784BBItBYU0lzMVNQZv78u_UeKruxbNnhPzM8nhaBvifOKG/s400/photo%25286%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593938168988118418" border="0" /></a>#2: An angel in the sky line. The view from the 9th floor of my school from one of my classrooms. After the big March 11th quake, the angel rotated about 60 degrees. We think it belongs to the Church of Later Day Saint's church. Recently, or perhaps because of the recent big aftershock, it is once again facing North.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lK0aMSC8ub_KuNzb_akUVubV1LrV2o6CDk_wb4iMnlcz-wBj0tM1v8unTpmD3outEvp-T-egQPZdxmVRaOYu9-wS151IHr5niU30wMYmkm7BXStjKvJhW7S59i0VumnkjiHD/s1600/photo%25285%2529.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lK0aMSC8ub_KuNzb_akUVubV1LrV2o6CDk_wb4iMnlcz-wBj0tM1v8unTpmD3outEvp-T-egQPZdxmVRaOYu9-wS151IHr5niU30wMYmkm7BXStjKvJhW7S59i0VumnkjiHD/s400/photo%25285%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593938165976094626" border="0" /></a>#3: 530 am light. I am not a morning person but biking or walking through my park early in the morning is lovely. In the back you can see a crowd. Initially, I though they were a group who had partied all night. Not so. They were part of an all night vigil for Tohoku.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8gZldUScWyUguCM0d8Tf2gTPAwqCy4Ny2eEvnSibnqNFAvwvg1PXuB_lhiWfilBo4m5CziMIHu_vYwRDLI-pTa7Usna-v-erFKEwn44WDXdMoZtbtgjMvXfM3_ZjVGGsi8Ilv/s1600/photo%25284%2529.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8gZldUScWyUguCM0d8Tf2gTPAwqCy4Ny2eEvnSibnqNFAvwvg1PXuB_lhiWfilBo4m5CziMIHu_vYwRDLI-pTa7Usna-v-erFKEwn44WDXdMoZtbtgjMvXfM3_ZjVGGsi8Ilv/s400/photo%25284%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593938160741233938" border="0" /></a>#4: Comfort bike. Most people when stressed want certain comfort food. I wanted this bike back in Tokyo with me. My commuter, my love. Ready to rumble.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6IsML2hqH_YsPhXJ-Zcga-dRXdyJn_whnHHQHqa2Ap5anCCsRqtrYPkq1yQd7_WuWCdPXZkg9A5QBhMbRxCB_Za922iXRKKtHWFB7mrjB1kMqyLgusxuaZfZwsodGrzsAH5CZ/s1600/photo%25288%2529.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6IsML2hqH_YsPhXJ-Zcga-dRXdyJn_whnHHQHqa2Ap5anCCsRqtrYPkq1yQd7_WuWCdPXZkg9A5QBhMbRxCB_Za922iXRKKtHWFB7mrjB1kMqyLgusxuaZfZwsodGrzsAH5CZ/s400/photo%25288%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593938173501174194" border="0" /></a>#5: Sweeping cherry blossoms. A man spends his morning clearing the sidewalk near his business of fallen blossoms. Most businesses are back open and it appears that the blackouts are indefinitely postponed.kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-30127921542756063212011-03-17T05:15:00.002-07:002011-03-17T05:17:04.127-07:00updateIt feels like betrayal but I bought a ticket for tomorrow<br />1) The military is evacuating<br />2) I planned to leave in July. Yes its been a secret.<br />3) I feel useless here.<br /><br />I'm sorry friends. I really am. All my love and prayers are with you.kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-79924034988191717252011-03-17T04:21:00.000-07:002011-03-17T04:24:09.161-07:00Why I don't want to leaveI was doing good earlier today. Calm and felt like things were fine. I took a nap, the sleep deprivation finally taking over and woke up scared.<br /><br />It comes in waves, this fear. and it’s hard to know what to do with it.<br /><br />I desperately want to help. to be useful. to be busy. but planning for classes come April is both too much for my sleepy brain and just doesn’t have any umf. As my currently favorite coworker said: I want lift things and move stuff, you know. <br /><br />I want to lift things and move stuff and as it gets cold in Tokyo my heart goes out to those in the north in the snow. There will be probably more deaths from hypothermia than from radiation. <br /><br />It’s hard to get good information and that spreads fear. <br /><br />I’m following news from the embassies. I’m following updates from the British Camber of Commerce, (generally inside information). I’m following http://mitnse.com/ from MIT. I have mostly given up on other news like BBC (horrible) or NHK. They don’t have anything helpful or meaningful. They just yell. I’m not interested in people yelling without double-checking their facts.<br /><br />I remain undecided. I’m hopelessly undecided about everything in my life it seems. A friend asked why I wanted stay, especially considering how rough a year I’ve had here anyway and I wanted to share those thoughts with you too.<br /><br />It’s complicated. And I’ve been in Japan a long time. It’s a relationship and breaking up is hard to do.<br /><br />A lot of my indecision comes from the idea that if I leave, I’d rather just leave for good, because to be honest I’m planning to leave anyway. The plan is July/August. So to leave for 10 days now seems weird and wrong… but I don’t really know how to explain that. Here’s a try, as first written earlier today and now expanded.<br /><br />1) I mean, I don't want to leave my bike ;) <br />It’s a stupid reason but it speaks to what a huge part of my life my bike is. I may never buy another one so nice. <br />2) I want to see the cherry blossoms bloom<br />3) I don't want to run because I'm afraid <br />I fear that I will lose more sleep in my life over running than staying. Being here, I know how it feels. For all of you abroad, I think here looks much much worse. It’s calm, despite the food hoarding. <br />4) I don't want to be that person<br />I don’t want to run every time I’m afraid or every time something is hard. I don’t want to be someone ruled by the desire to protect herself first and do what’s right or reasonable second<br />5) I want to help, not just because it is Japan, but because it's needed<br />I desperately want to volunteer, either within Tokyo or in the refugee camps. I’ve felt this type of desire my whole life, an aching desire to help those who need it most. so it feels stupid to run now.<br /><br />6) I don't want the uninformed journalists or our culture of fear, paranoia and unnecessary precautions win over compassion and spirit<br />I am absolutely furious at the journalistic community. I am furious at the BBC, NHK, CNN (flat out wrong), Fox News (ridiculous as always), Huff Post… It’s hard to find good information and instead of helping they have created panic. Most of us in Tokyo are more stressed out by all you guys being stressed out than the actual situation.<br />On a larger scale, I don’t want our culture of fear over our sense of compassion to win. If the amount of energy being used to scare people was instead used to organize relief, I would be busy volunteering as would thousands of other Tokyo-ites. We would be gathering supplies to send north to people who need them. Instead we are glued to televisions and cellphones trying to decipher what is true.<br /><br />7) and I don't want to leave japan this way. I might but I don’t want to.<br />It's been a long and often troubled relationship but much like with my ex's, I never want to leave with a fight. I want to leave on good terms.<br />It feels like when you are dating someone you really care about but know it’s time to break up and then they lose their job and are a wreck. Do you leave then?<br /><br />8) I don't want to be a tourist to my life<br />I don’t want to be here only for the fun picture perfect moments. I don’t want to be here only for the drinking and karaoke. I don’t want my life to lack depth and meaning and the gritty stuff too.<br /><br />9) Leaving now feels like betrayal to my ideals, to who I believe I am, to everything Japan has taught me, to my friends who are ‘lifers’ here and won’t consider leaving. I feel so protective of Japan…<br /><br />But then again, I’m scared and I hate living/being alone in this situation.<br />But then again, I’ve been considering leaving Japan for a while anyway.<br /><br />I remain undecided. <br />Maybe I should have a few drinks and just decide. <br />But that’s the thing, I do decide, over and over, to stay. <br /><br />I’m looking at the data and deciding, little by little over and over. And that’s probably the best thing for me.<br /><br />The commercial flights are not full and extra flights for Americans and Brits are also being added. <br /><br />I’m continuing to consider my options but for now, I’m going to meet some friends and move away from the glowing news screen. <br /><br />Let me repeat. Even if the reactors melt down completely, being in Tokyo for a few days after will not seriously threaten my long or short-term health.<br /><br />Thank you for your love and support. Please please keep sending it. We all go through phases of feeling good and feeling scared. Too little good information and too little sleep will do that. I know you all are in the same boat there. <br /><br />Lots of love to you all.kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-90565687347757455152011-03-13T23:37:00.000-07:002011-03-13T23:38:32.860-07:00Some data<div link="blue" vlink="purple" lang="EN-US"><div><p class="MsoNormal">One of my best friends in the states plotted this data. It's good news.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Feel free to share/comment.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">An analysis of the last week’s worth of data from the Japanese earthquakes with magnitude greater than 5, as published by the USGS:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">The aftershocks are, on average, getting weaker:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><img src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=37bf291ae6&view=att&th=12eb269415475e79&attid=0.2&disp=emb&realattid=c04342c5af5a8e5c_0.1&zw" height="233" width="293" /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">They are also getting less frequent (currently down to about 3/day from about 1/hour right after the big one):</p><p class="MsoNormal"><img src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=37bf291ae6&view=att&th=12eb269415475e79&attid=0.3&disp=emb&realattid=c04342c5af5a8e5c_0.2&zw" height="162" width="227" /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">The epicenters are staying close to the big one (no trend towards Tokyo or anything):</p><p class="MsoNormal"><img src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=37bf291ae6&view=att&th=12eb269415475e79&attid=0.4&disp=emb&realattid=c04342c5af5a8e5c_0.3&zw" height="236" width="435" /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">The epicenters are pretty much staying at the same depth (no trend up):</p><p class="MsoNormal"><img src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=37bf291ae6&view=att&th=12eb269415475e79&attid=0.1&disp=emb&realattid=c04342c5af5a8e5c_0.4&zw" height="242" width="306" /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">So the aftershocks are not moving towards Tokyo, not rising, and not sustaining their intensity or frequency. I think, based on this data, that at least we can rule out Godzilla rising from the laundry list of crap Japan will have to deal with in the aftermath.</p> </div></div>kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-58684069049799850252011-03-13T06:15:00.002-07:002011-03-13T06:29:17.898-07:00Intelligent information about Fukushima Nuclear Reactor problemsI never re-post things here but I think this is really important and people should read it. It is a clear and informative explanation about what is happening at the Fukushima Reactors-- now the scariest part of the earthquake after math. I'm re-posting the link as well as the text because if people start spreading this (PLEASE DO), the site could get busy.<br /><br />Things in Tokyo are still stressful, we still are getting aftershocks. Many/most of us still don't have gas to cook or take hot showers. Black outs are scheduled. My school is still on, I think. But we're fine. We're ok. There is remarkably almost no damage in Tokyo. Send your thoughts and prayers farther north. But not so many to the power plants. Those will be ok. Read below.<br /><br />love to all.<br /><br />k<br /><br /><a href="http://morgsatlarge.wordpress.com/2011/03/13/why-i-am-not-worried-about-japans-nuclear-reactors/">http://morgsatlarge.wordpress.com/2011/03/13/why-i-am-not-worried-about-japans-nuclear-reactors/</a><br /><br /><br />Morgsatlarge – blogorific.<br />My thoughts. Do with them what you want.<br /><br />Why I am not worried about Japan’s nuclear reactors.<br />Posted on March 13, 2011 by morgsatlarge<br /><br />I know this is a fairly full on statement from someone posting his very first blog. It will also be far and away the most well written, intelligent post I ever make (I hope!) It also means I am not responsible for its content.<br /><br />This post is by Dr Josef Oehmen, a research scientist at MIT, in Boston.<br /><br />He is a PhD Scientist, whose father has extensive experience in Germany’s nuclear industry. I asked him to write this information to my family in Australia, who were being made sick with worry by the media reports coming from Japan. I am republishing it with his permission.<br /><br />It is a few hours old, so if any information is out of date, blame me for the delay in getting it published.<br /><br />If you would like to contact Josef, please email me at morgsatlarge@yahoo.com.au<br /><br />This is his text in full and unedited. It is very long, so get comfy.<br /><br />I am writing this text (Mar 12) to give you some peace of mind regarding some of the troubles in Japan, that is the safety of Japan’s nuclear reactors. Up front, the situation is serious, but under control. And this text is long! But you will know more about nuclear power plants after reading it than all journalists on this planet put together.<br /><br />There was and will *not* be any significant release of radioactivity.<br /><br />By “significant” I mean a level of radiation of more than what you would receive on – say – a long distance flight, or drinking a glass of beer that comes from certain areas with high levels of natural background radiation.<br /><br />I have been reading every news release on the incident since the earthquake. There has not been one single (!) report that was accurate and free of errors (and part of that problem is also a weakness in the Japanese crisis communication). By “not free of errors” I do not refer to tendentious anti-nuclear journalism – that is quite normal these days. By “not free of errors” I mean blatant errors regarding physics and natural law, as well as gross misinterpretation of facts, due to an obvious lack of fundamental and basic understanding of the way nuclear reactors are build and operated. I have read a 3 page report on CNN where every single paragraph contained an error.<br /><br />We will have to cover some fundamentals, before we get into what is going on.<br /><br />Construction of the Fukushima nuclear power plants<br /><br />The plants at Fukushima are so called Boiling Water Reactors, or BWR for short. Boiling Water Reactors are similar to a pressure cooker. The nuclear fuel heats water, the water boils and creates steam, the steam then drives turbines that create the electricity, and the steam is then cooled and condensed back to water, and the water send back to be heated by the nuclear fuel. The pressure cooker operates at about 250 °C.<br /><br />The nuclear fuel is uranium oxide. Uranium oxide is a ceramic with a very high melting point of about 3000 °C. The fuel is manufactured in pellets (think little cylinders the size of Lego bricks). Those pieces are then put into a long tube made of Zircaloy with a melting point of 2200 °C, and sealed tight. The assembly is called a fuel rod. These fuel rods are then put together to form larger packages, and a number of these packages are then put into the reactor. All these packages together are referred to as “the core”.<br /><br />The Zircaloy casing is the first containment. It separates the radioactive fuel from the rest of the world.<br /><br />The core is then placed in the “pressure vessels”. That is the pressure cooker we talked about before. The pressure vessels is the second containment. This is one sturdy piece of a pot, designed to safely contain the core for temperatures several hundred °C. That covers the scenarios where cooling can be restored at some point.<br /><br />The entire “hardware” of the nuclear reactor – the pressure vessel and all pipes, pumps, coolant (water) reserves, are then encased in the third containment. The third containment is a hermetically (air tight) sealed, very thick bubble of the strongest steel. The third containment is designed, built and tested for one single purpose: To contain, indefinitely, a complete core meltdown. For that purpose, a large and thick concrete basin is cast under the pressure vessel (the second containment), which is filled with graphite, all inside the third containment. This is the so-called “core catcher”. If the core melts and the pressure vessel bursts (and eventually melts), it will catch the molten fuel and everything else. It is built in such a way that the nuclear fuel will be spread out, so it can cool down.<br /><br />This third containment is then surrounded by the reactor building. The reactor building is an outer shell that is supposed to keep the weather out, but nothing in. (this is the part that was damaged in the explosion, but more to that later).<br /><br />Fundamentals of nuclear reactions<br /><br />The uranium fuel generates heat by nuclear fission. Big uranium atoms are split into smaller atoms. That generates heat plus neutrons (one of the particles that forms an atom). When the neutron hits another uranium atom, that splits, generating more neutrons and so on. That is called the nuclear chain reaction.<br /><br />Now, just packing a lot of fuel rods next to each other would quickly lead to overheating and after about 45 minutes to a melting of the fuel rods. It is worth mentioning at this point that the nuclear fuel in a reactor can *never* cause a nuclear explosion the type of a nuclear bomb. Building a nuclear bomb is actually quite difficult (ask Iran). In Chernobyl, the explosion was caused by excessive pressure buildup, hydrogen explosion and rupture of all containments, propelling molten core material into the environment (a “dirty bomb”). Why that did not and will not happen in Japan, further below.<br /><br />In order to control the nuclear chain reaction, the reactor operators use so-called “moderator rods”. The moderator rods absorb the neutrons and kill the chain reaction instantaneously. A nuclear reactor is built in such a way, that when operating normally, you take out all the moderator rods. The coolant water then takes away the heat (and converts it into steam and electricity) at the same rate as the core produces it. And you have a lot of leeway around the standard operating point of 250°C.<br /><br />The challenge is that after inserting the rods and stopping the chain reaction, the core still keeps producing heat. The uranium “stopped” the chain reaction. But a number of intermediate radioactive elements are created by the uranium during its fission process, most notably Cesium and Iodine isotopes, i.e. radioactive versions of these elements that will eventually split up into smaller atoms and not be radioactive anymore. Those elements keep decaying and producing heat. Because they are not regenerated any longer from the uranium (the uranium stopped decaying after the moderator rods were put in), they get less and less, and so the core cools down over a matter of days, until those intermediate radioactive elements are used up.<br /><br />This residual heat is causing the headaches right now.<br /><br />So the first “type” of radioactive material is the uranium in the fuel rods, plus the intermediate radioactive elements that the uranium splits into, also inside the fuel rod (Cesium and Iodine).<br /><br />There is a second type of radioactive material created, outside the fuel rods. The big main difference up front: Those radioactive materials have a very short half-life, that means that they decay very fast and split into non-radioactive materials. By fast I mean seconds. So if these radioactive materials are released into the environment, yes, radioactivity was released, but no, it is not dangerous, at all. Why? By the time you spelled “R-A-D-I-O-N-U-C-L-I-D-E”, they will be harmless, because they will have split up into non radioactive elements. Those radioactive elements are N-16, the radioactive isotope (or version) of nitrogen (air). The others are noble gases such as Xenon. But where do they come from? When the uranium splits, it generates a neutron (see above). Most of these neutrons will hit other uranium atoms and keep the nuclear chain reaction going. But some will leave the fuel rod and hit the water molecules, or the air that is in the water. Then, a non-radioactive element can “capture” the neutron. It becomes radioactive. As described above, it will quickly (seconds) get rid again of the neutron to return to its former beautiful self.<br /><br /><br /><br />This second “type” of radiation is very important when we talk about the radioactivity being released into the environment later on.<br /><br />What happened at Fukushima<br /><br />I will try to summarize the main facts. The earthquake that hit Japan was 7 times more powerful than the worst earthquake the nuclear power plant was built for (the Richter scale works logarithmically; the difference between the 8.2 that the plants were built for and the 8.9 that happened is 7 times, not 0.7). So the first hooray for Japanese engineering, everything held up.<br /><br />When the earthquake hit with 8.9, the nuclear reactors all went into automatic shutdown. Within seconds after the earthquake started, the moderator rods had been inserted into the core and nuclear chain reaction of the uranium stopped. Now, the cooling system has to carry away the residual heat. The residual heat load is about 3% of the heat load under normal operating conditions.<br /><br />The earthquake destroyed the external power supply of the nuclear reactor. That is one of the most serious accidents for a nuclear power plant, and accordingly, a “plant black out” receives a lot of attention when designing backup systems. The power is needed to keep the coolant pumps working. Since the power plant had been shut down, it cannot produce any electricity by itself any more.<br /><br />Things were going well for an hour. One set of multiple sets of emergency Diesel power generators kicked in and provided the electricity that was needed. Then the Tsunami came, much bigger than people had expected when building the power plant (see above, factor 7). The tsunami took out all multiple sets of backup Diesel generators.<br /><br />When designing a nuclear power plant, engineers follow a philosophy called “Defense of Depth”. That means that you first build everything to withstand the worst catastrophe you can imagine, and then design the plant in such a way that it can still handle one system failure (that you thought could never happen) after the other. A tsunami taking out all backup power in one swift strike is such a scenario. The last line of defense is putting everything into the third containment (see above), that will keep everything, whatever the mess, moderator rods in our out, core molten or not, inside the reactor.<br /><br />When the diesel generators were gone, the reactor operators switched to emergency battery power. The batteries were designed as one of the backups to the backups, to provide power for cooling the core for 8 hours. And they did.<br /><br />Within the 8 hours, another power source had to be found and connected to the power plant. The power grid was down due to the earthquake. The diesel generators were destroyed by the tsunami. So mobile diesel generators were trucked in.<br /><br />This is where things started to go seriously wrong. The external power generators could not be connected to the power plant (the plugs did not fit). So after the batteries ran out, the residual heat could not be carried away any more.<br /><br />At this point the plant operators begin to follow emergency procedures that are in place for a “loss of cooling event”. It is again a step along the “Depth of Defense” lines. The power to the cooling systems should never have failed completely, but it did, so they “retreat” to the next line of defense. All of this, however shocking it seems to us, is part of the day-to-day training you go through as an operator, right through to managing a core meltdown.<br /><br />It was at this stage that people started to talk about core meltdown. Because at the end of the day, if cooling cannot be restored, the core will eventually melt (after hours or days), and the last line of defense, the core catcher and third containment, would come into play.<br /><br />But the goal at this stage was to manage the core while it was heating up, and ensure that the first containment (the Zircaloy tubes that contains the nuclear fuel), as well as the second containment (our pressure cooker) remain intact and operational for as long as possible, to give the engineers time to fix the cooling systems.<br /><br />Because cooling the core is such a big deal, the reactor has a number of cooling systems, each in multiple versions (the reactor water cleanup system, the decay heat removal, the reactor core isolating cooling, the standby liquid cooling system, and the emergency core cooling system). Which one failed when or did not fail is not clear at this point in time.<br /><br />So imagine our pressure cooker on the stove, heat on low, but on. The operators use whatever cooling system capacity they have to get rid of as much heat as possible, but the pressure starts building up. The priority now is to maintain integrity of the first containment (keep temperature of the fuel rods below 2200°C), as well as the second containment, the pressure cooker. In order to maintain integrity of the pressure cooker (the second containment), the pressure has to be released from time to time. Because the ability to do that in an emergency is so important, the reactor has 11 pressure release valves. The operators now started venting steam from time to time to control the pressure. The temperature at this stage was about 550°C.<br /><br />This is when the reports about “radiation leakage” starting coming in. I believe I explained above why venting the steam is theoretically the same as releasing radiation into the environment, but why it was and is not dangerous. The radioactive nitrogen as well as the noble gases do not pose a threat to human health.<br /><br />At some stage during this venting, the explosion occurred. The explosion took place outside of the third containment (our “last line of defense”), and the reactor building. Remember that the reactor building has no function in keeping the radioactivity contained. It is not entirely clear yet what has happened, but this is the likely scenario: The operators decided to vent the steam from the pressure vessel not directly into the environment, but into the space between the third containment and the reactor building (to give the radioactivity in the steam more time to subside). The problem is that at the high temperatures that the core had reached at this stage, water molecules can “disassociate” into oxygen and hydrogen – an explosive mixture. And it did explode, outside the third containment, damaging the reactor building around. It was that sort of explosion, but inside the pressure vessel (because it was badly designed and not managed properly by the operators) that lead to the explosion of Chernobyl. This was never a risk at Fukushima. The problem of hydrogen-oxygen formation is one of the biggies when you design a power plant (if you are not Soviet, that is), so the reactor is build and operated in a way it cannot happen inside the containment. It happened outside, which was not intended but a possible scenario and OK, because it did not pose a risk for the containment.<br /><br />So the pressure was under control, as steam was vented. Now, if you keep boiling your pot, the problem is that the water level will keep falling and falling. The core is covered by several meters of water in order to allow for some time to pass (hours, days) before it gets exposed. Once the rods start to be exposed at the top, the exposed parts will reach the critical temperature of 2200 °C after about 45 minutes. This is when the first containment, the Zircaloy tube, would fail.<br /><br />And this started to happen. The cooling could not be restored before there was some (very limited, but still) damage to the casing of some of the fuel. The nuclear material itself was still intact, but the surrounding Zircaloy shell had started melting. What happened now is that some of the byproducts of the uranium decay – radioactive Cesium and Iodine – started to mix with the steam. The big problem, uranium, was still under control, because the uranium oxide rods were good until 3000 °C. It is confirmed that a very small amount of Cesium and Iodine was measured in the steam that was released into the atmosphere.<br /><br />It seems this was the “go signal” for a major plan B. The small amounts of Cesium that were measured told the operators that the first containment on one of the rods somewhere was about to give. The Plan A had been to restore one of the regular cooling systems to the core. Why that failed is unclear. One plausible explanation is that the tsunami also took away / polluted all the clean water needed for the regular cooling systems.<br /><br />The water used in the cooling system is very clean, demineralized (like distilled) water. The reason to use pure water is the above mentioned activation by the neutrons from the Uranium: Pure water does not get activated much, so stays practically radioactive-free. Dirt or salt in the water will absorb the neutrons quicker, becoming more radioactive. This has no effect whatsoever on the core – it does not care what it is cooled by. But it makes life more difficult for the operators and mechanics when they have to deal with activated (i.e. slightly radioactive) water.<br /><br />But Plan A had failed – cooling systems down or additional clean water unavailable – so Plan B came into effect. This is what it looks like happened:<br /><br />In order to prevent a core meltdown, the operators started to use sea water to cool the core. I am not quite sure if they flooded our pressure cooker with it (the second containment), or if they flooded the third containment, immersing the pressure cooker. But that is not relevant for us.<br /><br />The point is that the nuclear fuel has now been cooled down. Because the chain reaction has been stopped a long time ago, there is only very little residual heat being produced now. The large amount of cooling water that has been used is sufficient to take up that heat. Because it is a lot of water, the core does not produce sufficient heat any more to produce any significant pressure. Also, boric acid has been added to the seawater. Boric acid is “liquid control rod”. Whatever decay is still going on, the Boron will capture the neutrons and further speed up the cooling down of the core.<br /><br />The plant came close to a core meltdown. Here is the worst-case scenario that was avoided: If the seawater could not have been used for treatment, the operators would have continued to vent the water steam to avoid pressure buildup. The third containment would then have been completely sealed to allow the core meltdown to happen without releasing radioactive material. After the meltdown, there would have been a waiting period for the intermediate radioactive materials to decay inside the reactor, and all radioactive particles to settle on a surface inside the containment. The cooling system would have been restored eventually, and the molten core cooled to a manageable temperature. The containment would have been cleaned up on the inside. Then a messy job of removing the molten core from the containment would have begun, packing the (now solid again) fuel bit by bit into transportation containers to be shipped to processing plants. Depending on the damage, the block of the plant would then either be repaired or dismantled.<br /><br />Now, where does that leave us?<br /><br /> * The plant is safe now and will stay safe.<br /> * Japan is looking at an INES Level 4 Accident: Nuclear accident with local consequences. That is bad for the company that owns the plant, but not for anyone else.<br /> * Some radiation was released when the pressure vessel was vented. All radioactive isotopes from the activated steam have gone (decayed). A very small amount of Cesium was released, as well as Iodine. If you were sitting on top of the plants’ chimney when they were venting, you should probably give up smoking to return to your former life expectancy. The Cesium and Iodine isotopes were carried out to the sea and will never be seen again.<br /> * There was some limited damage to the first containment. That means that some amounts of radioactive Cesium and Iodine will also be released into the cooling water, but no Uranium or other nasty stuff (the Uranium oxide does not “dissolve” in the water). There are facilities for treating the cooling water inside the third containment. The radioactive Cesium and Iodine will be removed there and eventually stored as radioactive waste in terminal storage.<br /> * The seawater used as cooling water will be activated to some degree. Because the control rods are fully inserted, the Uranium chain reaction is not happening. That means the “main” nuclear reaction is not happening, thus not contributing to the activation. The intermediate radioactive materials (Cesium and Iodine) are also almost gone at this stage, because the Uranium decay was stopped a long time ago. This further reduces the activation. The bottom line is that there will be some low level of activation of the seawater, which will also be removed by the treatment facilities.<br /> * The seawater will then be replaced over time with the “normal” cooling water<br /> * The reactor core will then be dismantled and transported to a processing facility, just like during a regular fuel change.<br /> * Fuel rods and the entire plant will be checked for potential damage. This will take about 4-5 years.<br /> * The safety systems on all Japanese plants will be upgraded to withstand a 9.0 earthquake and tsunami (or worse)<br /> * I believe the most significant problem will be a prolonged power shortage. About half of Japan’s nuclear reactors will probably have to be inspected, reducing the nation’s power generating capacity by 15%. This will probably be covered by running gas power plants that are usually only used for peak loads to cover some of the base load as well. That will increase your electricity bill, as well as lead to potential power shortages during peak demand, in Japan.<br /><br />If you want to stay informed, please forget the usual media outlets and consult the following websites:<br /><br /> * http://www.world-nuclear-news.org/RS_Battle_to_stabilise_earthquake_reactors_1203111.html<br /> * http://bravenewclimate.com/2011/03/12/japan-nuclear-earthquake/<br /> * http://ansnuclearcafe.org/2011/03/11/media-updates-on-nuclear-power-stations-in-japan/kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-65414338440850456322011-02-01T23:38:00.003-08:002011-02-01T23:47:14.171-08:00My kind of romance --Day 2 Kii/Shikoku winter tour<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ32YgdZaesOIy0A-s8sUuIoFfKAPK9Ia-2Txa-59b-aK_l3y3Foj53YTzFxlGIOZCHRPcuVslVjyYoptgJf3j8DSNuBbUJJP9pXnNls4JKJXV4wB1NYWrI5XoeGHyK-OC_hNX/s1600/IMG_0494.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ32YgdZaesOIy0A-s8sUuIoFfKAPK9Ia-2Txa-59b-aK_l3y3Foj53YTzFxlGIOZCHRPcuVslVjyYoptgJf3j8DSNuBbUJJP9pXnNls4JKJXV4wB1NYWrI5XoeGHyK-OC_hNX/s400/IMG_0494.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568994612321999154" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I wake up, finding myself most of the way through Nara-ken already and<br />ready for breakfast. My body is still tired from the adventure the<br />night before and I feeling less than spunky. There is a phenomenon<br />that I call ‘the hundred mile hangover’ where the day after a<br />demanding ride, your whole body feels less energetic much like you’ve<br />had too much to drink the night before. I’m realizing that<br />dehydration is key part of this. But I find it hard to drink enough<br />water when it’s so cold out. Looking outside your window in the<br />morning and finding everything covered in frost, doesn't help with<br />motivating myself to move a little faster, either...<br /><br />The only thing to do for a ‘hundred mile hangover’ is eat and<br />rehydrate and … ride<br />more. So that’s what I do, but I’m slow leaving, in part because<br />everything outside looks icy! But soon enough, I’m on the<br />road and it's clear and easy to ride. The winter landscape is<br />beautiful, the sky clear, and I'm much spunkier once I'm moving again.<br />Day 3 is supposed to be a short-ish day with a ‘quick de-tour’<br />to Mt. Koya—the beginning and end of all true Shikoku pilgrimages.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcE53yJ2rdU6vIMmQke-L7FlaL-sdXOVOMO4W-BgJvLVTb0WIZEgxBcMKP0tqWOHwVcavoPSGKW1agTnGNcq8A9Nm_zNzyGsW1eTxQmM2VkAVxn9rJybUPo_atGdrNxZ9zLAp6/s1600/IMG_0492.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcE53yJ2rdU6vIMmQke-L7FlaL-sdXOVOMO4W-BgJvLVTb0WIZEgxBcMKP0tqWOHwVcavoPSGKW1agTnGNcq8A9Nm_zNzyGsW1eTxQmM2VkAVxn9rJybUPo_atGdrNxZ9zLAp6/s400/IMG_0492.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568994624788134354" border="0" /></a><br />I find the road to Koya-san and it is small and beautiful and quite simply goes<br />up. The road just climbs. It’s about a 15 km, steady 5-6% climb.<br />It’s overcast and some of the shadows are frosty but soon the hat and<br />neck warmer comes off. The windbreaker is long stowed. The jersey<br />unzipped. The road follows the train tracks for a bit and some<br />tourists, including one foreign one, stare. I wave back. Grinning.<br />They wave back, eyes wide and sheepish.<br /><br />Indeed, the best way to cure the ‘hundred mile hangover’ generally<br />seems to be ‘go up.’ Burn that lingering lactic acid out of the<br />system. Get the endorphins pumping. The world in this state is truly<br />beautiful.<br /><br />And so I go up.<br /><br />I see the train snaking up on the opposite side of the valley and am<br />so happy to be traveling by bike, right at my own pace, feeling the<br />landscape. I think about all the places I've traveled by bike and the<br />particular way I love them. I think about how I'd like to eventually<br />cycle every prefecture in Japan. Isn't this perhaps the best way to<br />really know and fall in love with a country? Intimately knowing it's<br />beauties and dangers at a human powered pace? This is a metaphor for<br />romance if I could ever think of one.<br /><br />As I go up, I think about what this pilgrimage means and what I want<br />to say in my head when I finally get the to temples at the top. I<br />think a lot about the hot food I want to eat too… but mostly, I think<br />about what prayers I want to send upwards.<br /><br />This prayer thing is something I never really know what to do with.<br />Pilgrims on the Shikoku pilgrimage often recite the Heart Mantra Sutra<br />which is a lot about to how there is no end of suffering or escape for<br />suffering because there is no suffering because, really, there are no<br />senses and a lot of that sort of Zen-type-stuff. I find it hard to<br />get into that. Perhaps the eternal scientist in me simply refuses to<br />do anything but believe the empirical evidence of the senses. And<br />yet, I'm still drawn to want to be able to say a prayer.<br /><br />So rather than wait till I get to the top, I get started. And, it<br />turns out, all I can think to say sounds something like this<br />Thank you for the trees<br />Thank you for my bike<br />Thank you for the foolish idea of doing this lovely tour<br />Please continue to give me foolish ideas<br />Thank you for the strength in my legs today<br />Thank you for the fish I ate at breakfast<br />Thank you for that car just now not hitting me<br />Thank you for the good weather...<br /><br />And I go on like that for ages as I spin up and up. Eventually there<br />is a small fork in the road and I think that I may be feeling a slight<br />drizzle. No worries, I'm sweaty and hot, a little drizzle is fine. I<br />take the fork left and up the mountain. The drizzle starts to feel<br />kind of hard and bouncy. Then the drizzle starts to get solid and<br />white.<br /><br />In about 30 seconds the weather has gone from totally fine to snow in<br />every direction. And not just a little. Quite a lot of snow,<br />sticking to the road, turning everything icy.<br /><br />At first I'm just surprised. Well, I guess it's too slippery to ride,<br />so I'll have to keep going on foot.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27rZNKvtD8-jw_5s9bxuxrydfdnlxRZuNfpOliYG5qj8lmdPVWL678XRslz4odu74XRhaBLyS7-0EAwM3KSInqmg_hcl9zhkdQTrgCc-ZnvoiiWNhiQnMvWR8vpsSZ3YBbMs1/s1600/f4610688.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27rZNKvtD8-jw_5s9bxuxrydfdnlxRZuNfpOliYG5qj8lmdPVWL678XRslz4odu74XRhaBLyS7-0EAwM3KSInqmg_hcl9zhkdQTrgCc-ZnvoiiWNhiQnMvWR8vpsSZ3YBbMs1/s400/f4610688.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568994599479737490" border="0" /></a><br />And then I start laughing. This is ridiculous! and beautiful! what<br />am I doing here? seriously!? I take some pictures and keep walking<br />up. Some cars and cabs pass, but don't slow down or seem to notice<br />me. Don't they worry about a crazy lone cyclist walking her bike<br />through the snow? I guess not. The cars aren't necessarily doing so<br />well with the snow, so I don't know that I'd want to try to get me and<br />my bike in one of them anyways.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCTjGdIopz4WjwBcxOu6VuKBeJ9PTB28g7NQ4QDi_s1E9vavnSGX3JrxIvCutO9GyO-_wk90Dp9SVqaMc0EfwVIWViY6xTSeKCzdgqITMaJ5BT0tarQ-yam8yldhIIFxIGZ5R/s1600/f4903616.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCTjGdIopz4WjwBcxOu6VuKBeJ9PTB28g7NQ4QDi_s1E9vavnSGX3JrxIvCutO9GyO-_wk90Dp9SVqaMc0EfwVIWViY6xTSeKCzdgqITMaJ5BT0tarQ-yam8yldhIIFxIGZ5R/s400/f4903616.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568994605151877346" border="0" /></a><br />I get to a small tunnel and put on more gear--rain pants, jacket, hat,<br />the leg warmers I mistakenly packed go on my wrists and cover most of<br />my hands, which are the coldest part of me. Sticker heat packs also<br />go on my 'wrist warmers' helping significantly. I eventually flag<br />down a van.<br /><br />Umm, which way to Koya-san, I ask.<br />They point back in the opposite direction. (weird)<br />Ok... which way to the closest train station?<br />They point in the direction I'm going. (that's good)<br />How far is it?<br />mmm, a couple of kilometers.<br />Ok, thank you. I guess that's fine.<br />Good luck to you, they say, rolling up their window and driving off.<br /><br />Well, I guess I don't look like I need any help. I guess that's good.<br /><br />So I keep walking. The cedars and pines are covered in fresh snow.<br />I'm reminded of walks with my family around Christmas time. My shoes<br />make funny prints in the snow.<br /><br />Thank you for giving me the sense to ride with SPD shoes.<br />Thank you for the heat pack warming my hands<br />Thank you for the station not being too far away.<br /><br />I'm lost in disbelief at the whole situation but pretty warm and happy<br />and soon enough, there, indeed, is the train station, complete with<br />many of the cabs who drove past me without acknowledging my presense.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaZAfOO9sFxoVg0NZC5Nvep99DuttVpxSkzUNokvHjDQ77xpi_xgtkO4bMWesuv-v88vFziQJPxbg5GTHcOWGubla-rHwLEc8u53VHIf09aGdSn_zfaCZlup8xQcHZ-3QDsOe/s1600/IMG_0503.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaZAfOO9sFxoVg0NZC5Nvep99DuttVpxSkzUNokvHjDQ77xpi_xgtkO4bMWesuv-v88vFziQJPxbg5GTHcOWGubla-rHwLEc8u53VHIf09aGdSn_zfaCZlup8xQcHZ-3QDsOe/s400/IMG_0503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568994618574106946" border="0" /></a><br />I go to the ticket booth.<br />Um... I know it's kinda irregular but I can take my bike down the<br />cable car, right?<br />You must put it in a bag.<br />Ok, no problem.<br />Where are you going?<br />Um... I don't really even know where I am. I guess anywhere down the mountain.<br /><br />The station master isn't amused. He hands me a map. I buy a ticket<br />to Hashimoto.<br /><br />It's not cheating to take the train if the weather is unsafe for<br />cycling. It is extra not cheating if you take the train DOWN the<br />mountain.<br /><br />I bag the bike and look for snacks that aren't made of wheat. The<br />climb followed by the adreniline from the surprise snow have left me<br />feeling light headed and woozy. I find some chocolate in my bag and<br />make due. I fall asleep soon after getting on the train. As I doze<br />in and out I see the snow change to rain as we descend.<br /><br />At Hashimoto I have a choice, ride to Wakayama or take the train. I'm<br />cold, tired, feeling like I've had enough adventure for my 'easy day'<br />and unwilling to miss the ferry from Wakayama to Tokushima where my<br />hotel reservation is.<br /><br />Taking the train when you are lazy and don't feel like biking through<br />drizzle IS cheating. But that doesn't mean it isn't worth it. I curl<br />up with some M&Ms and listen to the local high school boys discussing<br />amongst themselves if my bike is a Keirin bike.<br /><br />The rest of the day is uneventful. The rain stops and I feel a little<br />sad that I don't feel I have the time to bike through this<br />countryside. I get to Wakayama just after dark, ride from the train<br />station to the ferry port, find the next ferry is in an hour. Eat<br />dinner, spend my time on the ferry in a shared tatami room stretching.<br />Arrive at the Tokushima hotel 9ish.<br /><br />I check in with my bike outside the entrance. After I get my key I<br />shoulder the bike and walk through the fancy lobby.<br />Um, would you like us to put your errr, luggage, somewhere? they ask<br />Oh no. I've got it. See, I'm carrying it so it won't touch anything.<br />*big grin* and I'm in the elevator going to my room. They don't stop<br />me. Sometimes it's just best to take advantage of the lack of<br />confrontation. My bike deserves to be in my room with me.<br /><br />This was also supposed to be laundry day. I guess that's not going to happen.<br /><br />And so the adventures continue...kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-55242458194637642912011-01-22T03:23:00.005-08:002011-01-22T04:18:12.630-08:00The bears are asleep. Day 1-Kii/Shikoku pilgrimage<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_iYHoh8-ErnlJrVBBEPtqYKzuQT3IsLg26DrEfHFycoLTLUEF66E9EksvaDusKABR_yye66QJhRt49jIJljO4d734W8W1ERPCn6XKEIosam1ntKqurqq-AYUlf1POYovJFTM/s1600/f1843008.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_iYHoh8-ErnlJrVBBEPtqYKzuQT3IsLg26DrEfHFycoLTLUEF66E9EksvaDusKABR_yye66QJhRt49jIJljO4d734W8W1ERPCn6XKEIosam1ntKqurqq-AYUlf1POYovJFTM/s400/f1843008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564970092744338210" border="0" /></a><br />Day 1 Jan 29th. Toba, Mie-ken to Gojo, Nara-ken 165km<br /><br />After fighting the wind, the breath of god, to get to the little minshuku at the tip of the cape, I slept heavily and I dreamt of Maggie. Fighting, wrestling all night. She jumps, I block. She gets hold of my shirt, my leg, she drops down, ears pinned back, yellow eyes watching me for weakness, ready to jump again.<br />I hold my ground. I keep my voice calm. That's enough ‘chica bonita’. It’s fight but it’s also not. I pull her off me. We are ready for another round. It’s a dance. It’s playing. But it’s also serious. It's love and it hurts.<br />She makes another lunge. I counter. All night, in circles I dream of being attacked over and over by this Bolivian puma. Yet I wake up still full of love for that restless cat. Overflowing love. What a miraculous thing, that. And so, rather than waking exhausted from battles, I wake refreshed and ready to ride.<br /><br />I catch a ferry across the bay to Toba in Mei prefecture and begin<br />what I know will be a long day. I try to keep up a good pace-- I know<br />I have over a hundred miles till the hostel-- but the little ups and<br />downs and the lovely sun make me lazy.<br /><br />It is a beautiful winter landscape with brown fields and long views<br />through leafless trees. I can see the mountains in the distance. In<br />two days I will cross three prefectures-- the entire peninsula. The<br />mountains wait. I am getting there in my own sweet time.<br /><br />I love this about touring. I love looking into the distance and knowing that everything I see I will slow spin myself towards.<br /><br />Often, the first question people ask when I tell them about my trip<br />is, Did you go with friends? and I tell them, no. I rode alone. This<br />time I tried to recruit... but other people's vacations, family<br />commitments, and enthusiasm for winter weather didn't quite sync up<br />with mine. So here I am again. Me and my lovely Six. (my bike is called Six)<br /><br /><br />I-like-red-because-it's-fast is my new favorite pet phrase. (Red bike, winter coat, iPhone, headphones, ….) Not that I'm really all that fast these days. I like riding with company but I enjoy my own pace as well.<br /><br />There is, indeed, still wind. but as I'm riding inland it isn't nearly as<br />strong. My legs are more tired than they should be but I'm learning<br />to love this feeling of the wind.<br /><br />One of the lovely things about being in the Kii peninsula are the tea plantations (I'm told it's ice tea) ordered like baby shrubs for mazes. The more I travel in Japan the more the mountains resemble each other but the tea plantations make this place quite special.<br /><br />The ferry landed 9:30am-ish and by 3pm, I’ve covered about 100km. I am in the mountains and the sun has slipped behind their snowy peaks. I have yet to cross the highest point of the day. The temperature is dropping with the sun so I put on more layers.<br /><br />I am very nervous.<br />I feel very intimidated.<br /><br />But this is what I wanted right? This fluttery, will-it-be-ok feeling in my chest. Mountains to cross. The roads are dry. Beautiful scenery…<br /><br />Yes, this is what I wanted. I had hoped to make there before it got too dark though.<br /><br />So I keep going. Indeed, it is my only choice. One thing that touring by bike has taught me over and over again: You rarely get everything you want.<br /><br />A boyfriend once told me that I was the only person he knew who loved nervous anticipation as much as I do. Where other people would love a sure thing, I love not feeling 100% safe. I love the focus, the resourcefulness, and inspiration that comes from being in questionable circumstances. And in the end, I love calm of knowing, not just hoping, that I can do this too.<br /><br />So up I go, into these mountains, playing with a metaphor in my mind that they, like beautiful women in impossible cocktail dresses holding colorful drinks may try to try to intimidate me with their cold still glances, but my strength will pull me straight past.<br /><br />Or so I hope.<br /><br />Unfortunately, this particular road, though beautiful, does not have convenience stores in any convenient sort of frequency. The michi-no-ekis (road stops with food) are closed for the holidays or the season. I’ve already eaten most of the food I had with me. As the road winds its way up, I see a small restaurant and despite the fading light decide it’s a better idea to eat. I have at least one pass and 60+ km to go. At 3pm and a lower altitude, a road side thermometer showed 6C. It’s not getting warmer as I go up. More fuel is needed.<br /><br />The nice old man and woman are surprised to so me, decked out in my cycling gear and so very white. They ask where I’m headed and I tell them vaguely. I know they wouldn’t approve of how many kilometers I have left to go with so little daylight. They tell me that there is snow on the pass, which is a long tunnel at the top of Mt. Takami. I nod my head. There’s not much I can do… it is between where I am and where I need to go.<br /><br />I will not be intimidated. I have no choice.<br /><br />I eat quickly and head back out. They sky is beautiful, turning soft pinks and salmons, reflecting onto the snowy mountain tops.<br />It is a beautiful climb and easy to stay warm. With each small tunnel, I think I might have made it to the top only to find… no…<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7nWYbTryND3oRm5j0gdnxMPCYYxzWbxVbmHowj3Tm7lm0B-zxetai4jeR8i5hErRx2HSfyQ360HIMeVIYItd1ScmZfOSpT7p5eg9P_yi7JWd0h4XjA1LZBFxP7nUQtmQxGIyl/s1600/f2875520.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7nWYbTryND3oRm5j0gdnxMPCYYxzWbxVbmHowj3Tm7lm0B-zxetai4jeR8i5hErRx2HSfyQ360HIMeVIYItd1ScmZfOSpT7p5eg9P_yi7JWd0h4XjA1LZBFxP7nUQtmQxGIyl/s400/f2875520.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564970101601100402" border="0" /></a>In the end, the approach to the tunnel is unmistakable and a crazy piece of civil engineering, curving and doubling back. The views of the valley below, fantastic but no good to dwell on. Sure enough, there is snow on the sides of the road, but the main parts of the lane are clear. It appears that at least one other skinny tired cyclist had been up recently, tracks in the snow.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQjJIdtik1pNjO1ayHW4VuWqVNOqkkE28duexeRoCnQ05z-f13ZmO8ZJdveKgIyvwKfX9VUpW52rVCZBTAszOfYijPG3thXdrJIv1feo3SW2ctSF24mY4J7Ab6Ej3lr2JVQ35/s1600/f3458176.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQjJIdtik1pNjO1ayHW4VuWqVNOqkkE28duexeRoCnQ05z-f13ZmO8ZJdveKgIyvwKfX9VUpW52rVCZBTAszOfYijPG3thXdrJIv1feo3SW2ctSF24mY4J7Ab6Ej3lr2JVQ35/s400/f3458176.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564970108305143522" border="0" /></a><br />The tunnel is two and a half kilometers (the map misreads it as me going over the whole mountain, km mark 170ish, but the reality of cutting through the tunnel is, thankfully, much less steep) and the other side brings me to Nara-ken.<br /><br />Nara-ken is colder.<br /><br />I now want to get off this mountain as fast as possible.<br />But not too fast because there is much more ice on the road.<br />It’s about 5pm and will soon be very dark.<br />It will only get colder.<br /><br />Using every bit of grace and cunning I can muster, I descend as fast as seems safe.<br />Something about the beauty and ridiculousness of this moment. Something about the cold and dark. Something about using all of my bike handling skills with 100% focus. Something about this moment, makes me smile, knowing that whatever I came out here for--which I still can't really put words too--I'm finding. I'm finding in this cold crazy descent off this mountain.<br /><br />I do not stop to put on extra gloves, toe warmers or anything to make the experience warmer. I just need to get down.<br />Curve by curve, judging where the ice might be and making sure that I do not need to slow down or turn while I am on those dangerous spots, I loose a few hundred meters of elevation before putting on more layers.<br /><br />Indeed, most of the rest of the distance left to cover is downhill. There still seems to be an awful lot of it. Front and rear lights on the bike. Check. Headlight. Check. Toe warmers. awww. happy girl.<br /><br />Ready. And so the evening continues. Eventually, I get off the main highway (166) and take a shortcut (Rt 16). A beautiful little road that follows a river. The winter stars shine down, crystal clear, reflect off the river, twinkling in the cold. This not Tokyo. This is lovely. However, as there are almost no cars on the road, I soon remember stories that cyclists tell about meeting bears...<br /><br />And so begins my inside-the-head-mantra<br /><br />the.bears.are.asleep.the.bears.are.asleep.it’s.winter.the.bears.are.asleep…..<br /><br />and so, because I’m tired and as much fun as this is, I’m ready for bed, because I’m scared of bears, because this is absolutely ridiculous trying to go as fast as is safe on completely pitch black country roads..<br /><br />I sing.<br /><br />And I sing as loud as I can, with as much tone and beauty as I can muster. I sing songs that my brother and I used to listen to on long road trips. I sing songs that my SCA friends would sing around campfires. I sing the wake up songs from the camp in Bolivia. I sing from musicals. I sing whatever comes to mind.<br /><br />I sing as I look at the river shining in starlight. I sing as I look out for the moving shadows of bears. I sing as I fly through the small towns and the little old people stare at me.<br /><br />It’s lovely and it makes me happy.<br /><br />And sure enough, after a few wrong turns and a frustrating moment when I realized that I wasn’t 5km off but rather 35km from where I needed to be, I arrive at the hostel, which appears to have no other guests.<br /><br />I am grateful for food (my fourth meal for the day…) and a long bath. I realize, a bit to my chagrin that despite covering 165km, I have drunk less than 1liter of water.<br /><br />I sleep with starlight and songs wrapped around me and prepare myself for more adventures to come.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/27292152">Map of Day 0,1,2</a>kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-9438769370630963702011-01-16T04:44:00.002-08:002011-01-16T04:47:55.643-08:00Into the wind. Day 0- Kii/Shikoku Winter tourThe journey starts on a Tuesday. Dec 28, after a weekend filled with Christmas parties and teaching lucky/unlucky students about ocean acidification and 'arsenic bacteria.' The point? We may be killing the world but something will always survive. <br /><br />And with those thoughts mixed up with some confusion of whether Christmas really just happened, I pack a small bag. Rain gear, pajamas, maps, cell phone charger. I bag the bike and take the train about an hour and a half south of Tokyo to Toyohashi, Aichi-ken. <br /><br />An old friend used to live here and I glance around wondering what it would feel like to have this as a home town. From first impressions, it's like many mid-sized Japanese cities at night, neon lights and convenience stores surround the station--good for packing last minute emergency provisions--but soon highways lead to vegetable fields.<br /><br />But not right away. I start off, cautious of traffic that might not be as used to crazy cyclists as Tokyo drivers. There are flashes in the sky, clouds flickering like spastic strobe lights. I think to myself that it must be an awfully quirky airport flood light. And then there is the thunder. Aw... well, there was almost no chance of precipitation... I'm not worried.<br /><br />And then it starts sprinkling. I debate whether it's worth stopping and putting on rain gear, which will likely leave me sweaty. The drizzle picks up to a pitter patter so I pull of under a street car stop. The pitter patter turns to a *clink *clink and suddenly hail is pelting down from the sky. The street turns white and the locals yelp as they take cover.<br /><br />I stand under the shelter and watch in amazement and slight horror. It's nearly 7pm and I have about 50km to get to the minshuku. After about 10 minutes the hail relaxes into downpour. I curse a cyclist called YellowGiant who sent me a message just before leaving saying:<br />"Just a quick, "wishing you well!" message. I hope you have a great time, and it doesn't rain (too hard - you need a little bit of rain to make the stories interesting), and you get back safely with heroic tales of battling the roads & elements."<br /><br />A little incliment weather I was prepared for but not within the first 15 minutes of my tour! But there is nothing else to do. I gear up. Rain pants, rain jacket, head light. The street car comes and goes. I garner many looks of disbelief. It will not be the only time this trip.<br /><br />After another 10 minutes the downpour relaxes back into a drizzle and my hotel isn't getting any closer so off I go. Navigating the city isn't difficult and the sky seems to have exhausted itself for the moment but puddles plus cars makes for some excitement. I am grateful there is no ice.<br /><br />Quickly I'm out of the city, heading for Rt 42 and the southern edge of the Atsumi Peninsula. The center of the sky has cleared and the lights of the city have faded. Vegetables fields lurk in the darkness of my periphery and clouds in the distance flash with lightning. I'm reminded of the nights in Bolivia when we could see the sideways lighting jumping between the clouds. Silent sky and crystal clear stars above. The smells of mud and sweat and rain. We would fill those strange weather patterns with fortunes and prophecies. Sideways lightning brought mixed blessings. And thus we chose to make sense out of our crazy situation. <br /><br />And here I am, wet, winter night, biking into the darkness. Smells of cows and winter fields, the painted while line disappearing into the night ahead of me. How do you make sense of these crazy situations? These choices to give up my warm bed and familiar roads to throw myself into this winter night are full of that small question: why?<br /><br />Soon I hit the coast and head west towards the cape. The road is a little inland, thankfully, but the wind is a force to be reckoned with. It comes in pulses and there is nothing to do but hunkers down into the drops and push. Spin by spin, I make slow progress. It is a fight and I chose this. Why did I chose this? I concentrate on all that I am grateful for and push one slow pedal stroke at a time.<br /><br />Before, it took a couple of days to get the pondering of "Why have I done this to myself (again)?" There is no honeymoon period this time. Whatever awakening, whatever clarity, whatever mental or spiritual journey I'm seeking starts right now. Why am I here, fighting this wind? (and loving it, mostly)<br /><br />There are people who think I'm brave to put myself in this situation and I enjoy the flattery but I can't accept the compliment. I am not brave. I simply mix a willful naivete with stubbornness. I love falling in love with the idea of something, and once there, I'm unlikely to back down. Cultivated self deception plus pride is not exactly the same as bravery or courage. Though, I'm grateful it appears the same from the outside.<br /><br />So that's part of it.<br /><br />Perhaps, we all live in fear. Some fear the cold or being poor or being unhappy. I fear being weak. I fear being boring. I fear that I will wake up one day and feel completely unspecial, unaccomplished, a life unlived. I fear that complacently will leave me soft and unable to survive the apocalypse. I fear that if the moment comes to stand up and fight for what I believe, I won't be strong enough.<br /><br />So here I am. Proving to myself that I'm strong enough, defeating one gust of winter wind at a time.<br /><br />It's cold, I'm hungry, I still have a long ways to go. Though my rain/wind gear is pretty good, my feet are soaked and freezing. The dark country road rolls into a small town with a convenience store. I drink a hot lemon drink and buy a fresh pair of socks. Two plastic bags please. The clerk obliges with a poor poker face. And then there I am, in the parking lot, off comes the shoe, then the sock. First goes on the dry sock, then the plastic bag, then the soaking wet shoe. Heaven. But the wind picks up and soon, there's me: chasing after a plastic bag, one barefoot, one cleated shoe, curious clerks staring through the window. Crazy gaijin girl laughing as she clomps around chasing what other people regard as trash. This is my life and I'm in love with all of it. Wet feet, already tired legs, wind, stars and all. <br /><br />But once all sorted, off I go into the wind again. My feet are now warm and I'm feeling more game for what feels like it will take me all night. Slow kilometer by slow kilometer. I can see the mountains to my right but have little evidence that I'm so close to the ocean to my left other than wind. There is no let up. I feel I'm getting closer to the tip of the cape. The road splits, to the left it looks like just a parking lot at sea level and to the right the road narrows and heads up. My headlight swings up and hits a sign proclaiming 13% grade. no no no... the map said... <br />I must be on the wrong road. I'm so ready for bed. This isn't *fair.* I try to check the map on my iPhone. no reception. But this *must* be the road. There really is no other way but up. The palm trees thrash back and forth. A resort hotel sits on cliffs above me. I wonder how far up the road goes. But no matter, nothing will change with me just standing here shivering in the wind and staring at my phone telling me there is no service. <br /><br />It's not a long climb but leaves me warm and as the road crests, the wind hits like a tsunami. I'm quite literally not moving forward. I unclip, stand and brace myself. I feel like I'm going to picked up like a kite and thrown to the rocks below. I wonder if the whole trip will be like this. I nearly fall as I dismount and have no hope of staying balanced on the bike in this gale. I push my bike 50m, leaning into the wind until I can continue. This is ridiculous. This was supposed to be the easy part. <br /><br />I'm nearly there. The stars are beautiful. I'm scanning hotel signs for the name Egao (translation: smiling face) and as I round the cape the wind is now at my back. I'm so happy. I coast along with no effort looking... looking... I check my phone. I've over shot by 3 km. I turn back into the wind. The hotel had two names, the one on the sign was not Egao, so back into the wind I go. Slowly and steadily. Eyes forward, body streamlined and poised, like I'm stalking prey. Like I'm stalking prey very slowly. I reach the hotel and am exhausted. I wasn't expecting to feel this tired so early in the trip, I'm ready for a shower and bed.<br /><br />The lady at the desk, the owner of the hotel is more than kind. She has a lilting infectious laugh and unlike most locals, thinks what I'm doing is wonderful rather than strange. She doesn't ask me the stupid question, "But isn't it cold?" I'm immensely grateful. This little old Japanese lady gets it. <br />I mention the wind with an apology that I'm much later than I'd expected. <br />Yes, she tells me. The wind is the breath of god. <br />She looks me in the eyes and I'm at a loss for words. <br />That must be why I feel so refreshed, I tell her. <br />She smiles. It's a good way to think about it. It's also kind of true. I feel a lot of the Tokyo grim and the lingering too-many-parties is slowly falling from me. 12 hours ago I was teaching middle schoolers. It seems like a lifetime ago.<br />I'm being blown clean by the breath of god.<br /> She tells me about the angles. Usually only 6 come down to earth. This year there are seven. She tells me that for the last five years especially high souls have been coming to Japan, she insists I must be one of them. She tells me about the local gods and the mountains. She tells me that it is her purpose in life to bring joy and happiness to travelers and neighbors.<br />I'm woozy from ride and lost in her disarming laugh. She shows me to the bath and my room and I thank her. It's a wonderful way to start such a trip.<br /><br />I am beginning a pilgrimage of sorts, though I couldn't tell you exactly what for. Though that's the thing, I guess. It's clarity I seek. It's the answers to the "what am I doing and where should I be going" questions that I'm cycling towards. Or at least I hope so. If the wind is the breath of god, then I am cycling into god's mouth, and isn't that where wisdom should reside?kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-68555757762018099002011-01-12T17:37:00.004-08:002011-01-12T18:17:52.298-08:00Cycling videoI do plan to write the story, as it is a good one, but for now <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbxTsbXeV7c">here is a video</a>.<br />The soundtrack is the same I was singing to myself.<br />Go, go, go.<br /><br />the adventures continuekbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-24846250186216939022011-01-04T03:29:00.001-08:002011-01-04T03:29:00.417-08:00Kii/Shikoku day 7<img width='640' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisqmBNcJbqO9TtO1dYVX3i2x_g2yzJXD54_8I_Mio073UT6aWUhL5jaCfNOT1FPMhvCrc2JCqIeZf6zFdn0xITanhg4m2YxjIZzCSOPQlG3BaNHOt4-rtePrFjptRdzliBJTRB/'><br>Catching the ferry back to Tokyo tomorrow. A few more temples to visit tonight. Happy I got to the Iya valley (in the picture) going up was fine. Coming down was cooolllldddd. kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-26475289668599714322011-01-03T04:15:00.001-08:002011-01-03T04:15:23.990-08:00Kii/Shikoku day 6120@20.6kph<br /><br />Lots of nice people today. Ready to rest up for one last long day across the mountains tomorrow. kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-84612516850926971932011-01-02T00:24:00.001-08:002011-01-02T00:24:13.340-08:00Kii/Shikoku day 5<img width='640' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXSF8-2JNRApa3bu5YVho8DMft8FqpnQFjUkbtzFJ4qG5FJY4IqB4Sg7rHo92SK7H-9HxNkoKIiR6aUUovUXjesOaZp2tToldKVxxvtSaE8Sov6jRU0WuYUZAcAGCeZRqpeCiG/'><br>First time into town before sunset ! Feeling stronger and hungry!<br />Beautiful beautiful day. Highs above 12C but still snow in the shadows. <br />140km. Avg 22.4kph. <br /><br />Kochi Prefecture Tosashimizu<br />幸町2−27<br />Japankbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-26952448915971579802011-01-01T03:30:00.001-08:002011-01-01T03:57:31.351-08:00Kii/Shikoku day 4My "rest day" ended with a 50km short run for food. Oops. ;)<br /> Beautiful coastline along the way. And the stars here are unbelievable. <br />Happy and sore. kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-22781005611602549872010-12-31T15:05:00.001-08:002010-12-31T15:05:17.171-08:00Happy new year!<img width='640' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HJ8lBNN3anOaaR6T90tpf0kiEN5rRz51Wzvh8n8XlXHaqtP_z9_NkxSPADY1LgfIR4c19SewjWc0cTv7K0JQhFBHmF4-8mMHykDlaO9epDeU0n9QwsJdrPg6KWdVe7wfxGWn/'><br>Kochi Prefecture Susaki<br />浦ノ内下中山<br />Japan<br /><br />I arrived quite a bit before sunrise and had a lovely warm nap first <br />230ish km...kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-57033262166405325722010-12-31T15:01:00.001-08:002010-12-31T15:01:12.600-08:00kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-73202937062450474172010-12-31T02:56:00.001-08:002010-12-31T02:56:11.854-08:00Sunset on 2010<img width='640' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMoaI6Bavv5wIgmCpfk_hhvsCNTinupsbOxkW7pmN8XX1TIv5GTl0yM-xI2TkVtTj1InLAN7_3STCre6V47C2jBr9-59_CMlpVUJ2qDTwls3d4lBliXyNCATiHHAIIA7PeL28/'><br>;)kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-44926665622274667322010-12-30T02:21:00.001-08:002010-12-30T02:21:26.200-08:00Kii/Shikoku day 2<img width='640' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWDhj5GQv_kUgrXOMOPkRP3Xf-N3HkVvFIECXXS1vixvBzuyFbakOyJ9apY3Tsu6XvrDohFifpshlkWNL6ZjoDcOJAu4EBfvik1qSwFRnwn_duwmLP_NdQtHt9tJl-mJ8ve4Xq/'><br>Oops should have taken that weather forecast more seriously. Koyasan snowed on me with only 2 km to the top! (don't worry, i was plenty warm in my winter gear in the picture) Another day for that mountain ... Cable car and much public transportation followed. <br />Currently on a ferry one of the roadsides heaters I've ever felt in japan to Tokushima and a warm hotel room <br />徳島市kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-16282601993340019392010-12-29T04:10:00.001-08:002010-12-29T04:10:08.869-08:00Kii/Shikoku day 1<img width='640' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWThPktFBS7nXkBJ_jTyEX7C4xOcu7jyVOV3v03g6izkb8UnHnovMvqsTJaKiqphwaqbnagXOUS_MqzdyxSkIMTigsAUy7cUHETOUbzpxtsczDFLYrhhhXITsH0N16Gud30Jht/'><br>五条,奈良県<br />165km<br />As I headed to the highest pass of the trip, sun setting and thinking the snow covered mountains were a lot like beautiful women with expensive colorful drinks in impossible cocktail dresses. I told myself I wasn't intimidated. It was a lie. kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-58499850838559553422010-12-29T04:00:00.001-08:002010-12-29T04:00:34.284-08:00Day 0<img width='640' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZMHoIBy87eNqkAzSQ-8p0YqtBT2YaCarfDO_H8MyI4SJYHRkjMWj7RGn1Fj-iVcU2ZsWwFnE1ov1dI1Fs76rBJxBYyeEvSoS2hg9-V2P4_BeNAX4sp6_uuGoBsDvwaAwO0tl/'><br>笑顔の宿 民宿 丸栄, 〒441-3624 愛知県田原市伊良湖町宮下2822-23<br /><br />Strongest headwind of my life. Hostel owner tells me it is the breath of god <br /><br />55kmkbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-43416753625560047252010-12-27T04:46:00.004-08:002010-12-27T05:22:44.379-08:00Kii/Shikoku tour Day -1I may get <a href="http://www.wunderground.com/global/stations/47883.html">rained on, or snowed on<br /></a><br />I may get a flat tire <br />I may get lost<br />I may hit a spot of frost or moss and slip and fall again<br />I may have to continue on despite being bruised or scraped or tired<br />I may have to eat the same boring curry over and over because I can't find good food without wheat in it<br />I may spend too much money<br />I may have a wicked head wind<br />I may question if this was all a good plan after all<br />I will likely get chapped lips and nose<br />I will likely shiver now and then<br />I will may swear into a headwind or a climb at the end of the day<br />I will probably get sore and tired muscles<br />I will probably want more sleep<br />I will probably want more food<br /><br />These things may happen. I am totally ok with them. I'm choosing something that isn't supposed to be easy. I'm making a deal with myself to not complain about the cold or really, anything. I choosing to be grateful (as best I can). These things are, mostly, part of the plan. This isn't supposed to be easy; this is supposed to be kind of a pilgrimage. Though a pilgrimage to what or for what, I guess I'm not really sure.<br /><br />I hope the elements and the kilometers, new and beautiful mountains and prefectures in Japan, will ground me somehow. Will bring clarity.<br /><br />What I worry about most is not the weather or the potential mechanical problems. I most fear the loneliness. Don't get me wrong. I love traveling alone and I would miss the freedom of it if I did travel with others, but like a lot of this year, I've struggled to embrace being alone. I used to be quite happy living alone, loving the silence and the ease of going at my own pace. But after the year in South America with all the hostels and bunk beds and the tribe of El Parque volunteers... I've changed. <br /><br />That said, though I am craving more social interaction in my life than I can fit into nonworking hours (working hours being warm and professional but not exactly friendly), I still believe in the value of holding yourself in a quiet space. I believe that clarity comes from not distracting yourself. I believe that whatever lessons I am learning with will grow and surface if I give myself that space.<br /><br />And I believe that checking facebook and email constantly dilutes the experience.<br /><br />And so, for the time I am traveling, I am going mostly media blackout. I play with my cellphone, checking crack-book, email, blogs far too much. I feel almost addicted to it. I miss those long south American bus rides that went on for days with nothing to do except doze and look out the window. Stuff happens in your head when you don't fill it with flashing lights. That said, if I do cave and check my email, I will most certainly appreciate any letters...<br /><br />I will let people know that I am still alive and I hope to find some time to write all about it when I get back. <br /><br />A poem that sums it up rather nicely<br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k7X7sZzSXYs?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k7X7sZzSXYs?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />And finally, a Race Across America cyclist, in an interview explained why he trained so hard and did such crazy races. He says <a href="www.radiolab.org/blogs/radiolab-blog/2010/sep/30/goodbye-jure/">this</a><br />I learn how to beat the dark side of me, if you do that and then you race in yourself you are proud of yourself and that inspires me. For me, that's it.<br /><br />And so the adventures continue. Keep my warm in your thoughtskbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15410350.post-32873468739203930282010-12-26T01:15:00.005-08:002010-12-26T03:15:34.234-08:002010 holidaysIt has been a lovely holiday season so far. Despite working 24th-28th, I had the fantastic day off on the 23rd, the emperor's birthday, and led a bike ride out in the nearby mountains. In santa regalia, no less. My friend took some great pictures <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/halffastcycling/20101223TCCKoriKobuTunnels?authkey=Gv1sRgCJGM18PBx_zTDg#">here</a>. This is my favorite with Fuji in the background.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jh3eINJzRl7XHakIbyVW2gIu-0bo2uGK6xJYsq0dmFgmqOUn9dKjw4y0XBRdm0BCLo8g_PeP6zYXBfQeSuMrwAP9PRbjDmGGqAjx2fB17KqDDtIUi1vZTHnkYUtNvXMPGUmB/s1600/santa+bike+2"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jh3eINJzRl7XHakIbyVW2gIu-0bo2uGK6xJYsq0dmFgmqOUn9dKjw4y0XBRdm0BCLo8g_PeP6zYXBfQeSuMrwAP9PRbjDmGGqAjx2fB17KqDDtIUi1vZTHnkYUtNvXMPGUmB/s400/santa+bike+2" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554921663621145666" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It has been a great year cycling, getting to know the roads, finding my place in the community, feeling strength build in my body. I'm hoping for a faster and awesome 2011. I will be filling my upcoming holiday with a bike tour. As usual.<br /><br />I tried to take video with my iPhone during my summer tour and put it together... but the project kind of failed. Here are the mediocre results. Don't let it give you a headache (sorry...)<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/No7obix5__Y?hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/No7obix5__Y?hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />I still have two more days of work before my winter break of about a week, which, predictably, will be a cycling tour. I tried to find some buddies but other people have families and/or prefer to celebrate the New Year more traditionally, inside with booze. I plan to bike through the night into the sunrise. <br /><br />This time I will not be camping. (brr!) and have hotel/hostel/couchsurfing/bed and breakfast reservations for every night. I'm also planning to go in a media blackout BUT posting just location and (if I can do it easily) one picture at night, so that people know that I'm still alive. (that's what the 'test' was about)<br /><br />I'll write more later but must get to organizing!<br /><br />the adventures sure do continue...kbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07668413343349859041noreply@blogger.com1