Ok guys, come on. We put up the poll because life has settled down a bit here in San Francisco, and there are not quite so many things to blog about, so we thought, just maybe, a fun little poll would spice things up, bump our ratings, spike our readership, and in all other ways do good things. However, the poll has turned up some disturbing tendencies in the body of our blog-followers... The greatest number of votes so far have gone to answer D, Chipolena. I don't know how to say this... Chipolena is a dog, guys. A really cute little shih tzu, actually, who snores when she is awake and rubs her head against you when you pet her. We did not eat her for dinner. That is disgusting. I hope everyone who voted for Chipolena, may she rest in peaceful, albeit raucously snoring slumber to the end of her days, takes some time to think about what they have done. Whether it was 'accidental,' or 'a joke,' or whatever else you sick people call it when you are trying to justify your innate desire to devour other people's pets, it was still wrong, and we won't tolerate that kind of pole-voting on this site.
We will not be posting as of yet what the correct answer is, but lets try to avoid any more votes for small dogs, eh? For the record, there are three dogs living with us right now: Chipolena, Paco, and Chiquita. So far, we have failed to eat any of them. This is a trend we will be following for the foreseeable future. Vote accordingly.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
No turning back. (without significant monetary consequences)
| ||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Karen
Thursday, November 19, 2009
So, um, change of plans...
Josh and I are going to India.
My view: great decisions are often made impulsively. You can never recapture a moment, or a day, or a month, of your life. You never feel the same one moment as you do another. When you feel like doing something, that feeling is something to take advantage of as you are experiencing it. When you have an idea that you think is a good one, you had better go through with it. You can never know in any empirical sense that a decision is the right decision, or the correct decision-- all we can do is believe that a decision is a good one, perhaps the best available to us at that moment... but even that 'best available' talk is murky water. There is no one right way to live-- there are many good ways to live.
One can’t live with one's finger everlastingly on one's pulse. Joseph Conrad said that. I would like to believe that there is more to life than trying to be as safe as possible at all times. I believe that certain precautions are in order, but safety must be balanced with experiences of value. To live richly is not always the exact same path as to live safely. I strive to live richly. I strive to learn as much as I can, and to experience as much as I can, and to grow... I am not the poker player who rigorously calculates the odds, counts the cards, seeps the blood of stress from every anxious pore, puts in modestly when probability strikes, but far more often, folds quickly and quietly and hordes and hopes and waits for another chance... What is the point of fighting so hard to win if it means you don't even enjoy the process? When I play, I throw my weight around-- I bet high, I bluff, I have a good time, and at the end, sometimes I win, and sometimes I lose, and it doesn't matter, either way.
I am not thinking of this moment as the end of a bike trip. I am thinking of this as the continuation of my year off from school, my year to explore, to learn as I want to learn, to live independently, and to experience life from an angle I have never experienced it before. This sudden change of plans is not an act of rebellion, or a confused attempt to prove myself, or some misplaced expression of individuality. The bike trip was not too tame-- perhaps in many ways it was too wild. The bike trip meant hours on the saddle with cars flying by feet away. No matter how good I am at biking, or how careful most people are at driving, it meant a lot of danger. It meant trespassing many nights, an activity I have a bad record with and don't enjoy. The bike trip also meant staying away from home until summer, and having only the summer to spend time with family and friends, to work, and to pursue the more leisurely activities that I am forced to miss out on, whether I am biking or trekking India. It meant new experiences, sure, but it meant new experiences within the framework of an American culture that is very homogenized-- I have not felt that I have been among people with significantly different ways of life than those I have been in contact with back home.
I know India probably sounds pretty arbitrary. I look at India as the first of many countries/areas in the world that I would like to visit. This little kick of bicycle adventuring has helped me see that travel is important to me; attempting to understanding other people, putting other people on my personal map, adding them to my world-consciousness, is important to me. I want to travel to a lot of different parts of the world. Right now, I am limited. I don't have a whole lot of money, or time, right now, but I want to get outside of the United States and experience something new. I have come to believe that travel is a lot more accessible than I thought. And I think it is worth it. The life I have been living for the last month has been much more vibrant, more intense, more rich, than anything I have experienced before. Yet, I think, it was only a taste of what is possible. There is a lot of newness out there, a lot to see, and marvel at, and be changed by. I could stay in the United States, and add to my understanding of America and Americans-- or I could leave, and travel to someplace drastically different, and construct more of a world vision-- a more wholistic understanding of this globalized, interconnected, yet completely stratified planet.
Why India, in particular: Everyone I have spoken to who has gone to India has told me that India is a seething mass of life to every extreme. It is all forms of life, living interconnectedly, peacefully, yet in a frenetic, dirty, wild and earthy environment. One person described the feeling of stepping into the streets the first time as being akin to having buckets of ice thrown repeatedly at one's face. It sounds like another world-- like a way of living that couldn't possibly exist on my planet. Yet, just around on the other side of the globe, there it is. And it has been there my whole life. All, what, 1.2 billion, whatever the number is, living out their lives in this environment and me, here in America, ‘living the dream,' receiving 'education,' blind, ignorant. The book Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts, first put India on my map, showed me Mumbai as a city of intense beauty and love and life, and I was enthralled. That book was poetic, and it wasn't fiction. Since I have come to the realization that the world is within my reach right now-- that my money is sufficient, and my fear unnecessary and prohibitive--I have wanted to see and experience that which I have only read about. I think that this is possible. I think that this is what I should do.
So… Josh and I go to India. This is why Josh sold his bike. Mine is on the market as well, but it is overpriced, because I got a little excited when Josh’s went so quickly and decided to ask for $120 more than I paid for it. We will see how well that works out for me.
We have appointments tomorrow to turn in the paperwork necessary to get visas. Once we have those in our possession, we will buy tickets. We hope to leave sometime in early December. We hope to stay in India for several months.
All of those big paragraphs above are excerpted from an email I wrote to my mother yesterday explaining why I am doing this. She thought I should put them up on the blog, so here they are.
If anyone has any thoughts about the projected trip to India, please comment. We are open for advice, criticism, and ideas for what to do and see in India. We are planning on flying into Delhi, traveling around northern India for a while, then going down to Mumbai. Anybody know anyone in India?
Excitement! We are doing it. Abrupt? Certainly. Premature? In relation to what? Spur of the moment? Impulsive? Definitely. But why not? Really? Why not act impulsively now and then? Must we always wait, hold ourselves back, police and regulate our interests and desires? Does every decision need to be run past the committee, and the subcommittee, and then sent to the director for approval?
No, I think not.
Sometimes, you just have to go to India.
-Chance
My view: great decisions are often made impulsively. You can never recapture a moment, or a day, or a month, of your life. You never feel the same one moment as you do another. When you feel like doing something, that feeling is something to take advantage of as you are experiencing it. When you have an idea that you think is a good one, you had better go through with it. You can never know in any empirical sense that a decision is the right decision, or the correct decision-- all we can do is believe that a decision is a good one, perhaps the best available to us at that moment... but even that 'best available' talk is murky water. There is no one right way to live-- there are many good ways to live.
One can’t live with one's finger everlastingly on one's pulse. Joseph Conrad said that. I would like to believe that there is more to life than trying to be as safe as possible at all times. I believe that certain precautions are in order, but safety must be balanced with experiences of value. To live richly is not always the exact same path as to live safely. I strive to live richly. I strive to learn as much as I can, and to experience as much as I can, and to grow... I am not the poker player who rigorously calculates the odds, counts the cards, seeps the blood of stress from every anxious pore, puts in modestly when probability strikes, but far more often, folds quickly and quietly and hordes and hopes and waits for another chance... What is the point of fighting so hard to win if it means you don't even enjoy the process? When I play, I throw my weight around-- I bet high, I bluff, I have a good time, and at the end, sometimes I win, and sometimes I lose, and it doesn't matter, either way.
I am not thinking of this moment as the end of a bike trip. I am thinking of this as the continuation of my year off from school, my year to explore, to learn as I want to learn, to live independently, and to experience life from an angle I have never experienced it before. This sudden change of plans is not an act of rebellion, or a confused attempt to prove myself, or some misplaced expression of individuality. The bike trip was not too tame-- perhaps in many ways it was too wild. The bike trip meant hours on the saddle with cars flying by feet away. No matter how good I am at biking, or how careful most people are at driving, it meant a lot of danger. It meant trespassing many nights, an activity I have a bad record with and don't enjoy. The bike trip also meant staying away from home until summer, and having only the summer to spend time with family and friends, to work, and to pursue the more leisurely activities that I am forced to miss out on, whether I am biking or trekking India. It meant new experiences, sure, but it meant new experiences within the framework of an American culture that is very homogenized-- I have not felt that I have been among people with significantly different ways of life than those I have been in contact with back home.
I know India probably sounds pretty arbitrary. I look at India as the first of many countries/areas in the world that I would like to visit. This little kick of bicycle adventuring has helped me see that travel is important to me; attempting to understanding other people, putting other people on my personal map, adding them to my world-consciousness, is important to me. I want to travel to a lot of different parts of the world. Right now, I am limited. I don't have a whole lot of money, or time, right now, but I want to get outside of the United States and experience something new. I have come to believe that travel is a lot more accessible than I thought. And I think it is worth it. The life I have been living for the last month has been much more vibrant, more intense, more rich, than anything I have experienced before. Yet, I think, it was only a taste of what is possible. There is a lot of newness out there, a lot to see, and marvel at, and be changed by. I could stay in the United States, and add to my understanding of America and Americans-- or I could leave, and travel to someplace drastically different, and construct more of a world vision-- a more wholistic understanding of this globalized, interconnected, yet completely stratified planet.
Why India, in particular: Everyone I have spoken to who has gone to India has told me that India is a seething mass of life to every extreme. It is all forms of life, living interconnectedly, peacefully, yet in a frenetic, dirty, wild and earthy environment. One person described the feeling of stepping into the streets the first time as being akin to having buckets of ice thrown repeatedly at one's face. It sounds like another world-- like a way of living that couldn't possibly exist on my planet. Yet, just around on the other side of the globe, there it is. And it has been there my whole life. All, what, 1.2 billion, whatever the number is, living out their lives in this environment and me, here in America, ‘living the dream,' receiving 'education,' blind, ignorant. The book Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts, first put India on my map, showed me Mumbai as a city of intense beauty and love and life, and I was enthralled. That book was poetic, and it wasn't fiction. Since I have come to the realization that the world is within my reach right now-- that my money is sufficient, and my fear unnecessary and prohibitive--I have wanted to see and experience that which I have only read about. I think that this is possible. I think that this is what I should do.
So… Josh and I go to India. This is why Josh sold his bike. Mine is on the market as well, but it is overpriced, because I got a little excited when Josh’s went so quickly and decided to ask for $120 more than I paid for it. We will see how well that works out for me.
We have appointments tomorrow to turn in the paperwork necessary to get visas. Once we have those in our possession, we will buy tickets. We hope to leave sometime in early December. We hope to stay in India for several months.
All of those big paragraphs above are excerpted from an email I wrote to my mother yesterday explaining why I am doing this. She thought I should put them up on the blog, so here they are.
If anyone has any thoughts about the projected trip to India, please comment. We are open for advice, criticism, and ideas for what to do and see in India. We are planning on flying into Delhi, traveling around northern India for a while, then going down to Mumbai. Anybody know anyone in India?
Excitement! We are doing it. Abrupt? Certainly. Premature? In relation to what? Spur of the moment? Impulsive? Definitely. But why not? Really? Why not act impulsively now and then? Must we always wait, hold ourselves back, police and regulate our interests and desires? Does every decision need to be run past the committee, and the subcommittee, and then sent to the director for approval?
No, I think not.
Sometimes, you just have to go to India.
-Chance
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Some shoutouts
There are some people out there who deserve recognition, whether or not they ever check this blog, or even know it exists. These are for some of the people who have helped us out, or made our trip easier in some way. We just felt like saying thanks, publicly.
To Nickel Potter. Nickel, you rock. Big ups to you. Together, we made a trio that repeatedly painted the town brown, spat on fish, and in all other ways, accomplished the amazing and seemingly impossible. I will think of you whenever I listen to Nerd Petroleum Redistribution, or see a man carrying a large, unwieldy box in a public place, or see a suitcase/rusty old muffler full of money/seawater and sand, or eat a really tasty curry... Or see a beautiful sunset... Probably not as often with that last one, though... Nickel, you made the last three weeks of cycling an adventure, and we enjoyed your company immensely. Good luck in Tahoe, and Arkansas, and everywhere else you find yourself, which is sure to be all over the place. And, as always, murder and dismemberment, my friend. Live well.
To Emily and Caroline! Thank you for your bravery in inviting three smelly, scruffy, homeless bicycle gypsies to spend a night indoors. I hope the food bank continues to treat you well. If you still have some of that pumpkin ginger carrot cake, could you send that to San Francisco, general mail? We are hungry. What else is new.
To Tony Cacciapagglia! My front rack is still working perfectly, carrying far more weight than any typical front rack is designed for. Thanks for your help designing and welding the black beast that has already traveled some ten degrees in latitude.
To Brook, Malory, and the rest those involved with our Arcata fiesta! Your floor space, indoor and heated, was phenomenal, but your company was even better. Thank you for helping make our Halloween in Arcata unforgettable.
To Son and Luic! When it comes to the best dinner of our trip so far, your work just south of Klamath still takes the cake. I hope your own adventure is still going well, and wish you good luck as you walk south through Central and South America. And, Son, sorry I lost your blow dart. Good luck hunting.
To Kevin and Lorri! It has been over a month now, but we still remember you! We had an awesome time at your place, and still talk about you when we are alone on the edge of civilization, observing the relentlessly setting sun, without a place to stay. Thank you.
To John, Josh, and Janeaua... Oh no... Is it bad that I don't quite know how to spell your name, oh very most favorite cousin of mine, whom I love and adore? I know how to say it, I swear! Staying in Portland and seeing all of you was very enjoyable. I hope we can spend more of that kind of time together in the future. And Josh, thank you for the food-- we were still eating trail mix and sunflower seed/nuts all the way into northern California.
To Brian, Lisa, Dylan, Oliver. Your company, and your hospitality, were welcome. Dyl, Ol, that night with the guitars and the mandolin was the first time I feel we have really just sat down to hang out together, and it needs to happen more. I love you two.
To Isaac, the bicycle mechanic. Thank you for installing Josh's mountain cassette-- it has saved us. The mountains we have climbed (I think 2700 some feet is our highest altitude so far) would not have been summittable without that mechanical change. Without that cassette, we could not have done the Lost Coast, and if we never did the lost coast, then Josh might never have broken three spokes, blown a tire, bent a rim, and accidentally almost befouled, discovered, and taken part in rescuing a burrowing owl from the depths of a pit toilet.
To Josh and Justin! I wish our attempts to fix your broken spoke with kevlar string could have been more successful. Nevertheless, the attempt was enjoyable, as was our mutually failed attempt to free camp at Manchester. Good luck to you in Santa Rosa.
There are more who have aided in our adventures, but I am distractable and forgetful, so their names must go unmentioned.
Tyler, Drew, I miss you. Mom, Dad, I love you.
San Francisco is a very, very enjoyable city to live in.
Enjoy your lives, folks.
Oh, yeah, and we might go to India.
To Nickel Potter. Nickel, you rock. Big ups to you. Together, we made a trio that repeatedly painted the town brown, spat on fish, and in all other ways, accomplished the amazing and seemingly impossible. I will think of you whenever I listen to Nerd Petroleum Redistribution, or see a man carrying a large, unwieldy box in a public place, or see a suitcase/rusty old muffler full of money/seawater and sand, or eat a really tasty curry... Or see a beautiful sunset... Probably not as often with that last one, though... Nickel, you made the last three weeks of cycling an adventure, and we enjoyed your company immensely. Good luck in Tahoe, and Arkansas, and everywhere else you find yourself, which is sure to be all over the place. And, as always, murder and dismemberment, my friend. Live well.
To Emily and Caroline! Thank you for your bravery in inviting three smelly, scruffy, homeless bicycle gypsies to spend a night indoors. I hope the food bank continues to treat you well. If you still have some of that pumpkin ginger carrot cake, could you send that to San Francisco, general mail? We are hungry. What else is new.
To Tony Cacciapagglia! My front rack is still working perfectly, carrying far more weight than any typical front rack is designed for. Thanks for your help designing and welding the black beast that has already traveled some ten degrees in latitude.
To Brook, Malory, and the rest those involved with our Arcata fiesta! Your floor space, indoor and heated, was phenomenal, but your company was even better. Thank you for helping make our Halloween in Arcata unforgettable.
To Son and Luic! When it comes to the best dinner of our trip so far, your work just south of Klamath still takes the cake. I hope your own adventure is still going well, and wish you good luck as you walk south through Central and South America. And, Son, sorry I lost your blow dart. Good luck hunting.
To Kevin and Lorri! It has been over a month now, but we still remember you! We had an awesome time at your place, and still talk about you when we are alone on the edge of civilization, observing the relentlessly setting sun, without a place to stay. Thank you.
To John, Josh, and Janeaua... Oh no... Is it bad that I don't quite know how to spell your name, oh very most favorite cousin of mine, whom I love and adore? I know how to say it, I swear! Staying in Portland and seeing all of you was very enjoyable. I hope we can spend more of that kind of time together in the future. And Josh, thank you for the food-- we were still eating trail mix and sunflower seed/nuts all the way into northern California.
To Brian, Lisa, Dylan, Oliver. Your company, and your hospitality, were welcome. Dyl, Ol, that night with the guitars and the mandolin was the first time I feel we have really just sat down to hang out together, and it needs to happen more. I love you two.
To Isaac, the bicycle mechanic. Thank you for installing Josh's mountain cassette-- it has saved us. The mountains we have climbed (I think 2700 some feet is our highest altitude so far) would not have been summittable without that mechanical change. Without that cassette, we could not have done the Lost Coast, and if we never did the lost coast, then Josh might never have broken three spokes, blown a tire, bent a rim, and accidentally almost befouled, discovered, and taken part in rescuing a burrowing owl from the depths of a pit toilet.
To Josh and Justin! I wish our attempts to fix your broken spoke with kevlar string could have been more successful. Nevertheless, the attempt was enjoyable, as was our mutually failed attempt to free camp at Manchester. Good luck to you in Santa Rosa.
There are more who have aided in our adventures, but I am distractable and forgetful, so their names must go unmentioned.
Tyler, Drew, I miss you. Mom, Dad, I love you.
San Francisco is a very, very enjoyable city to live in.
Enjoy your lives, folks.
Oh, yeah, and we might go to India.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Nickel, with box
Percevez!!!!!!
The last night Drew was with us
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Larkspur, CA
OMG. We're getting close to San Francisco! 7 miles until the Golden Gate Bridge! I can barely write! Oh man! But seriously, we took our time coming through northern california because the beauty was too much. Everyday we would plan on going about 40 miles and ended up only making half that because we would find the best campsite ever (which coincidentally occurred every 20 miles). Yesterday we pulled out a 70 mile day so we would only have 30 today to enjoy a full day in San Fran. Currently we don't have a place to stay because everyone we contacted was full of people or adventure. So we're looking at hostels and hoping someone will come through. If not, ces't la vie. Anyways, we're excited and are planning on spending the next couple of days in the city... somehow.
Love,
Josh
P.S. It's sunny and gorgeous. Man, this is the life.
Love,
Josh
P.S. It's sunny and gorgeous. Man, this is the life.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Fort Bragg, California
Here we are, safe and sound. We are in a coffee shop right now-- stopped to grab some wi-fi time before heading on south. Last night we spent a chilly night in a campsite of our own making, on a shrub covered bluff at the edge of the ocean. Over the course of the last week, we have slept in closed campsites, under bridges, in "day use only-- no camping!" areas, in actual camping areas without paying, on the beach, and otherwise in whatever flat patches of land we could get our hands on. We eat like champs-- roughly 6000 calories each one day, a few days ago. We counted. And yes, we are proud of ourselves. We go through two pounds of cheese in two days, easily. Don't tell our doctors.
We are having a blast. I am out of time for this post. Later!
Chance
We are having a blast. I am out of time for this post. Later!
Chance
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
