Jul 2008

I sit cross legged on the cold pavement of an empty road in silent reflection. I examine the vastness of the snowcapped mountain ranges, peering at me from every direction. My imagination provides me a picture of great eye's fixed atop each jagged point, every one a towering overlord piercing me with a ray of cold benevolence as I deliberate. I am certain that a true border has been crossed. Not that imaginary line in the dirt, guarded by each half of the North American continent with outposts and machine guns. This border is built of solid granite peaks, some of them 2 miles high with a true view of the world below. Trees that have stood for ages, witnesses of the cruelest cycles the planet could muster. Water- so furious that in-depth exploration remains an impractical dream in the minds of those who would dare. This is the great white North! In my view, beginning midway through British Columbia, it extends North through Alaska. The environment is as diverse through this corridor as the rest of North America combined. Rain forest, Arctic, Wetlands, Deserts...among others.
This section of the road was to be my biggest challenge; I had known this from the start. At least my sign would be easy, "North" should do the trick. I was scooped up almost immediately as is the way of things amongst our friendly neighbors to the North. The man behind the wheel was Trevor, a man on a mission- a mission for mom. "Mom" had been through the storm of a lifetime - the unexpected death of her soul mate. Almost simultaneously, she had been diagnosed with cancer - for the third time! To top things off, she had been forced to evacuate the island paradise that her husband and she had built in the shadow of the majestic Queen Charlotte islands. Together they had shared a fairytale existence of simplicity, sharing space along side its first inhabitants, the Tsimshian Indian tribe, of the first nations. Danielle, "mom", had raised her family in the temperate rain forest environment living off of the land. They made a modest living harvesting the bottom of the sea. They hunted everything from abalone, and geoduck to sea cucumbers. Now Trevor had charged himself with helping her make the transition off the island to an unfortunate trailer in the city. Yet again, sitting in the truck, I found my sense of direction waning . Logic was telling me to head North. I really needed to be in Alaska soon, before the weather turned, and here I was again flirting with the idea of another side excursion. I could not resist though. This was a family in need and I was in a position to help. I offered my services to Trevor and quickly found myself headed 700 miles directly west of the only road to Alaska. I was greeted in Prince Rupert B.C. by a woman in grieving over the massive upheaval that had just been handed to her. When I stepped through the door of the trailer that we were to restore for Danielle, I was manhandled (woman-handled?) with a sincere embrace that lasted an easy 30 seconds. Trying her best to express gratitude at my unexpected arrival she sobbed and whispered thank you until I could feel the tears welling in my own eyes. She didn't think twice that I was a strange, dirty, hitchhiker from America. She only saw me for what I was at that moment, a person willing to help. Trevor and I spent the next week tearing down the water damaged trailer, and then systematically rebuilding everything back to new. The next mission was to take a boat to the island that had been home for so long, and remove all of her earthly possessions in preparation for the big move back to the trailer. I was fortunate in the fact that once all of the the work was complete, I was generously rewarded with an introduction to some of the finer things that island life had to offer. "Bounty" and "beauty" are the words that come to mind when I think about the rewarding events that culminated our mission. We caught and cooked at least one of every living thing in the ocean, and cooked it island style. Salmon, halibut, prawns, clams, crab, sea cucumber, shellfish, berries, etc, etc. In addition to seeing and tasting my way through the islands I was blessed to develop some very real, and lasting friendships with these people of the sea. Before I left this fantastic land of natural beauty and richness, I was given very special parting gifts that will stay with me for life as treasures that accompany a story that I will never be able to forget. One of the gifts was a ticket on a boat headed straight for Alaska. Another was a hand knitted coat of many colors that I'm told once belonged to the saltiest, most cunning sea captain in the world; Captain Dan Pollock. So, in respect for a life lived without fear, and always on the edge of a wave, we remember those that have passed before us.

Trust, defined as. A relationship of reliance. We all struggle uniquely, day to day with this sometimes complex sensation. Over time, we all will have most likely experienced some calamity, or another, on this unpredictable front. While we usually learn to move on, cope, and toss up some solid logic regarding human behavior. Their are those very special occasions, when we find ourselves, necks writhing to the heavens in irate vexation, as we suffer what we all at some point in our growth classify, as eternal harassment from the great beyond. Which of course we deserve, cause we were bad. Don't argue, you know you were...you know it! We all have a different explanation as to why this occurs, punishment, karma, chance, among many, many other colorfully constructed explanations, that exist in bounty throughout the world. Having had the pleasure of testing a handful of these rock solid theories for myself, Obviously with a sincere desire to find something that even comes close to resembling a reliable pattern. I am left perfectly perplexed by the randomness of, both the blessings that life brings, as well as the curiously timed, and of course well deserved, punishments that are dolled out. Though it has become clear, in my opinion, that suffering these punishments is completely relative to your situation in life. What we comfortably call the "Worst Day Of My Life!" in the West is likely just another day, for people everywhere else. So lets try real hard to keep the stories im about to drop in perspective. After four days of perfectly "divine sequencing" along the coast, a natural lull in activity had begun to solidify, and was quickly becoming the new "phase." While this "phase" was an ideal time for me to ponder, process, and organize the prior week's greatness. I had begun to feel like maybe I had stumbled into some altruistic world of cosmic understanding in my new phase of introspection. Speaking metaphorically, I felt as though I had scaled the tallest mountain on the horizon, jumped off the tip, headfirst into lake "vulnerability," and I swam it! No food, no bed, no consistency, no outs. Only trust...Trust in what though? People? Energy? God? Nature? What? So far, I had come to a suspicious understanding with myself, in regards to the answer. Living on the cusp of society, doing my best to spread good in the world was clearly boomeranging right back too me in the form of a sincere notion of enlightenment.It seemed everything I was putting out to the earth, was coming back in the exact same fashion. Positivity bred more positivity, likewise negativity bred more negativity, and of course, my trust was being placed in that exact formula. In truth I have lived most of my life in adherence to these understandings, but in honesty I did not completely trust that the same way of living would transgress to this larger stage on the road. It is always these moments of supposed understanding, and trust that my doubt dragons begin to get restless. I know all about this, not my first trip around the block. In fact I have been circling for a long time. I started on my tricycle, then my training wheels, bike, car, now I find myself somewhere between a light plane and supersonic jet pack, but alas still circling. As I circle I find myself descending upon a lovely deposit craftily dubbed Eureka Ca, Eureka indeed! I know it doesn't suit my nature to be so satirical, buttt mommm.... it sucked! Sorry Eureka fans, im sure their were many admirable qualities that I walked right past in complete ignorance, but I was soaking wet, cold, lost, and hungry, thanks to the stupid rats that chewed their stupid way through my stupid pack to get to the stupid gold fish crackers I had so kindly been given back in Niceville! Oh well, rats gotta eat too. Sensing any negativity? After a miserable 5 mile city hike, I at last found a lone Star bucks outpost that put out a solid wi fi signal. I argued with myself for about 2 seconds about entering the chain I have come to despise. But of course I quickly gave in, swallowed my pride, and walked inside the corporate behemoth. Not bad, I think I can see why people spend their retirements here. I happily immersed myself in the glare of my computer screen, with high hopes of finding a host on Couch surfing.com. Nothing...*#@!, I had already spent one night in this trap, not all that bad...minus those dirty rats! But that spot had been conveniently located on the far edge of town, where trees, and camp spots were plentiful. Now I was in the thick of it, 10 or so miles from real trees or camp sites. I was forced to come to an understanding with myself right there, this was a suck it up moment for Mike. As the sun began to drop, and Star bucks decided that I had consumed enough of their free ice water, and electricity. I shuffled off, into the freezing night, in search of a good covert camping spot in the middle of Eureka, and they were plentiful, Yeah! Uhhhnfortunately, every single one of them was occupied by another cold, wet, presumably uncomfortable human in search of safety, and respite. I was forced to instantly humble myself, the toddler like frustrations that I had been nurturing all day could never compare to the suffering of these oft invisible street dwellers. That night I was introduced to about 15 or so, of these individuals as i wandered. The large majority obviously suffering one form of mental disorder, or another. No they weren't high, Ive worked in the field. Disorders. One spot that I stumbled upon was approximately 5 acres in size, and supplied a flat spot about every 10 feet for someone to lay on, they were all full. As I walked through, in awe of the alternate reality I had just entered, I was awestruck at the degree to which people had turned the area into a home in the trees. To my right someone had eerily lined a tree with a wide array of stuffed animals that had been carefully organized biggest to smallest. My initial reaction to this sight was fear from the bottom of my stomach, Quentin Terantino could not have produced, a more fear inciting picture, each animal had a mud, and rain mixture running like tiny rivers from the plastic eyes of each evil looking toy. They sat like gargoyles in the night, protecting the inhabitants from outsider intrusion.To my left, was a community of adults, two of them with small children. I thought to myself...WTF, I guess that would explain the stuffed animals. Part of me wanted to move up the road as quickly as I could manage, another desired to stay, and decipher this mess. Why in gods name are their children out here?In the rain, In the mud? So I picked an elderly woman that looked as though she had been looking after the interests of the children. I attempted to initiate conversation, but she was insane, she didn't make a lick of sense. Before I could explore further I saw the lights of two police cars pull up on the 5 acre site. People scattered as the cops descended. This was surreal, I have seen such things all over the world, but never, had I witnessed such poverty in my own country. This brief interaction had completely knocked me out of negative mode, and my head was bursting with questions. Do people know about this? Of course they do? How could they not? What are they doing about it? Obviously not enough! I thought back to my walk through Eureka earlier that morning, and made some definite re connections, with the faces in the forest. Some of them I had blindly passed in the day. One of the face's was seated in a hidden corner at Star bucks shaking his head side to side for hours, another I had seen when the worst of my negativity was exuding, and I marched in vexation right past him on the street. He was a man in his 70's begging for change on the corner. I spent the rest of my night wondering aimlessly in the freezing foggy rain, having given up on finding a place to claim solace for the night. I thought deeply about the things I had seen that night, and became helplessly furious at the rampant waste that I see everywhere. I thought about the Army missile technician that had picked me up two days earlier, and how he had revealed to me in prideful fashion the price tag for each missile he made, $1.2 million. These were subsequently shipped off daily, in the thousands to the middle east, and fired in our futile struggle, for another selfish foothold in the East. I thought about the freedoms that I see slowly slipping from the hands of what was once the freest country in the world. Why? because people don't care. Pure lazyness! I thought about the 18 year old kids that pass me on the freeway daily, in their brand new 30k trucks, and flip me the bird in pure ignorance. Why? because im doing something other than play video games. That night I vented in solitude at injustice, and recommitted to standing up for these things every chance I was given. The next morning, although more tired than I can accurately express, due to the fact that, even as I sit here writing this, I still feel a deep drag lingering.Yet that day I was somehow happy, happy to have a new day to work with My anger had subsided, and I was able to see where my negativity had taken me. It was now a balmy 57*, and not raining! This new day of semi sun, and a return to serenity, also brought a Couch surfing reply, a free spaghetti dinner, four new friends, and a ride out of town from a particularly talkative, and wise Franciscan monk, that adamantly honored, and adhered to in the same blind trust that I was currently waist deep exploring. In a desire to perpetuate the bond of common beliefs between us, he stuffed a five dollar bill in my pocket as I jumped out of the car. I was now in Oregon.