06/02/04

American Airlines flight 1624

LA - Chicago

Welp, I guess that's the end of that trip. I'm sorry I was unable to post yesterday. I had wasted too much time on the road camping and was in danger of not making it to LA in time for this flight that I'm on right now to Chicago, and then on to London and Ireland. The good news, for those who care, is that I'm going to continue this daily blogging through the remainder of this trip. I'll be posting photos and stories from Ireland and the Bonarroo festival in Tennesee. There will be no dog, but at least I'll be interacting with people and I'll be able to photograph some of them.

So, to recap my last couple of days on the road... The Colorado Rocky Mountain camping was definitely a highlight. It was also another case of my confronting fears that turned out to be nothing. As I already recounted, the instant I turned off the car ignition and was all alone (with Loona) in that dark, dark forest campsite, I was scared. I thought about something happening to me and how no one knew where I was.

The night spent there was a challenge too, becausee of the cold. But then, the next morning, I woke up, and was still alive and feeling very good. I fed Loona, had my hot cereal and Russian tea breakfast in my isolated spot of the earth, took my morning bikeride down a perfect mountain path, then came back and took Loona for a long, brisk walk.

I wanted to take more pictures, but I somehow don't get inspired to photograph when I'm in a truly beautiful place. I don't feel like I'm finding anything special in these pictures. Everywhere you look, everything is amazing to look at and somehow photographing it feels like I'm stealing someone else's idea. Also, esthetically speaking, the green and brown chocolatey landscape of the mountains doesn't photograph all that well. There isn't much contrast anywhere and all the pictures come out a bit muddy.

Loona and I walked along this river called the "Frazier River" and then we walked along a path that went along side a mountain that went straight up from the path, almost completely vertically. Loona and I decided to try to climb it.

It's amazing how, when you look up at a mountain incline, it looks impossible to climb, like if you tried to stand on it, you'd be comletely sideways. But once you step up onto it, you just start walking up and up just like walking anywhere. Loona climbs like a goat, just bounding up the steep rocks. After just a few minutes of huffing and puffing, we looked back and took in an incredible view of the surrounding mountains of the "Arapahoe National Forrest".

It was exhilerating for me and, I think, Loona. Then we jumped back down the moutain and strolled back to our campsite. I spent the next hour breaking camp, feeling satisfied. Here I'd come to a place that held so much anxiety for me when I got there, and now after a night and day there, I felt as though I really belonged there and that I'd conquered some fears and endured something. All before 9am!

Then, as I packed up, taking in the last moments of our isolation and courage, I heard footsteps. Soon, two guys jogged right by me. They were older guys and looked kind of rich, like two coporate officers starting the day with their brisk jog. Hm... Must be occupying a nearby campsite. Then I hear these two female voices chattering and approaching,and there, walking right by, are two ladies power-walking. One of them is pushing a jogging stroller and the other is holding a starbucks coffee go cup. Within minutes, the path is teaming with folks who look like they're on their way to go shopping at Neiman Marcus. Where the hell were they all coming from? What a let-down! I got the car packed up, put the dog in the back, and drove out of the campsite. Then I drove down the road, about two miles past the campsite, and there was a whole town! It's called "Winter Park" and it's for very very very rich skiers to go to restaurants and get being-rich-supplies. This was here all night long! If anything had happened to me, I could have probably yelled "Help!" and someone at the video rental store could have heard me and jogged over to help me.

I made a decision, though, about fear. I always hear people catagorize fears as "real or imagined.". but I don't believe in that distinction. Any fear, if you feel it, is real. The fear doesn't exist in the thing you're afraid of, it exists in you. So I think I have a right, basically, to feel that I conquered some fears on this trip. Fear of camping for the first time in a paved and mowed campsite that has a wifi hookup, fear of going to Oz in a tornado that never came, fear of bears and hypothermia, while sleeping four minutes away from a bed and breakfast. None of these episodes held any real danger for me (except maybe the tornado. I think I really dodged some shit there) but the fears I felt were real and I felt them, took a deep breathe, and kept going. So bully for me, motherfuckers.

So on to Ireland, where there are no more unkowns. I've been to this festival and it's always fantastic. Playing to packed crowds of pint-chugging Irishmen who love comedy, for five days. I'm sure I'll find some stories and pictures to send back to you all. Thanks, as always, for reading this. I leave you with some extra pictures from the proceeding trip.

 

LCK