Backtrack from Bozeman

It’s great to sit and dream about all the places you could go when the world is your proverbial oyster. Do you just keep driving from Seattle to Alaska? Do you go to British Columbia? What about the Badlands? But the reality is that eventually you have to decide to go somewhere and go.

Thankfully, Katie and I only grappled with this one for a few weeks. Since we ruled out the Badlands due to Sturgis and the other ideas on the list seemed to be a little far flung for our time frame, hiking at Glacier National Park sounded like just the ticket. Katie flew into Missoula and I headed back from Bozeman to meet her there. We returned to Casa Josh & Jean. Thankfully they returned from the Seattle wedding later that night and we were all able to hang out for day or so.

On Monday morning, Katie and I went on a great hike that Josh recommended on the outskirts of Missoula. It was a great walk that got us out into the sunshine and into the fresh Montana air. On the drive back, I suddenly realized I was a little turned around. Even though I thought I had retraced our steps exactly, we were unexpectedly on a gravel road. As I’m sure will come up time and time again, my sense of direction is terrible, which means that I have to compensate in a number of various ways. One of these ways is through very deliberate observation. I knew for a fact that we had not driven on gravel roads to get to the park, so we turned around to start over. When we got back to the park, we realized that it was not possible for us to have made a wrong turn – there were no other turns. Completely confused, I reluctantly retraced my steps again. It wasn’t until we had gone about five miles that we realized what had happened. In the spirit of Summer = Construction in MT, a truck had come through in the short time we were gone and completely razed the road. Sure enough, what was once a paved road in three short hours had become a gravel road. My sanity returned, at least momentarily.

Montana summer days last forever, so even with a hike under our belt, we were still able to meet up with Josh to tube down the river later that afternoon. It turns out that my roof rack from the crazy craigslist guy was a fruitful one – it can hold more than bikes!

And yes, it’s true. Another river float. It was fantastic! The water was perfect both in temperature and speed, and we spent a leisurely afternoon sipping cold beverages and catching up. I could get used to this…

Katie, me & Josh: happy campers post-float

After the float, we had an awesome meal prepared by our hosts that consisted elk burgers from an elk Josh had hunted the season before and a wonderful array of vegetables from their garden. This is livin’.

At last… the PERC Reunion

Getting to PERC for the reunion and for the presentations of this year’s class projects had been a driving force in my timeline since the Mass Exodus inception. When piecing together my timeline in December 2008, the July 15 deadline seemed like as good as any to wrap up my career and get out of the City. It also gave me an excuse to have some summer, as well as build momentum to propel my green burial ideas into the front of my brain. I knew after leaving SF I would need the support of my enviropreneur community encouraging me from the sidelines and could think of no better way to stay connected than to be there in person. Besides, as I mentioned, who wouldn’t want to plan a road trip to Montana in the summer?  Suffice to say, I really felt as though I had arrived when I pulled into Bozeman and began to retrace my steps from last summer.

Class of 2008 represents! Ariel, Jeff, me, Chris, Carol, Bobby, Virginia

 

Familiar TNC faces: Me with fellow PERConian, Carlos Fernandez.

What is unfortunately, not captured in these photos is the tubing down the river, which was the first time I could feel myself start to finally unwind, thanks to Ariel & Stephanie’s relentless insistence that everything was going to be okay. I mean, honestly, how could it not be okay when you’re floating down a river with great friends who are helping you brainstorm new ideas for your burgeoning business? Of course, we got to take relaxation to a whole new level, spending hours soaking in the hot springs just outside of Bozeman while watching the eternal Montana sunset and listening to live music. Ahhh… summer vacation…

There were countless opportunities to socialize over amazing dinners. Terry & Monica hosted us one night for a crawfish boil, the likes of which I have never experienced before. It was a finger-food feeding frenzy!

The next day we were treated to an all-day seminar on leadership, presented by John Kanengieter, a professional executive coach who lead the NASA Columbia Shuttle Crew through an extensive NOLS course before their mission to the moon. It was a remarkable day watching the video footage of the crew navigating their way through the Wyoming mountains, seeing their various leadership styles and unparalleled compatibility with one another. It made watching the end of the  story – the space shuttle exploding – exponentially more difficult to comprehend. Beyond words, really. We all felt humbled by John’s experience with the Columbia crew, his willingness to share it with all of us and help us apply some of those leadership lessons to our daily lives.

 

The weekend was over far too quickly and it was time to leave my little Montana utopia in the dorms of Montana State once again and continue on with my summer vacation. It’s rough, but someone has to explore the beauty of Montana while the weather is good.

A special shout out to Ariel & Steph: I would never be here without your constant, and I mean CONSTANT encouragement. You guys are my daily inspiration and you will have my eternal gratitude for helping me find my inner entrepreneur.

Summer in Montana

Really, is there a better place to be on earth than Montana in the summer? I was first introduced to this not-so-little slice of heaven last year during my PERC fellowship, where I spent four weeks frolicking in the warm Montana sun. For some reason, natural hot springs and tubing down rivers just seems to go hand in hand in Montana, and who can argue with that?

After I left Cory’s ranch, I headed East toward Missoula, taking an amazingly scenic route through Idaho. I probably drove for over nine hours that day, but the scenery and the sound of Malcolm Gladwell’s voice narrating The Outliers was more than enough to keep me entertained. As I quickly learned in the western states, summer is THE time for road construction. As in, there is no other time. At a couple of points along the way, they had traffic stopped in both directions to let the road construction take it’s course. During one of these standstills, I got out to ask the crew member how long we would be waiting. He replied with a nonchalant, “About 25 minutes.” What?! So I got out of my car and headed down to the river I had been tracing the entire day. It was a nice, unplanned break to stretch my legs and check out the wildlife along the riverbank.

“Down by the creek bank by the old holler log.” 

After a FULL day of driving, I was happy to finally arrive at my friend Josh’s house, but sad that we were missing each other entirely in the process. As timing goes, he and his girlfriend were driving to Seattle for a wedding at the exact same time I was driving to Missoula, effectively trading places. Josh, Cory and I were BFFs at PERC and he was another one I couldn’t strong-arm into coming with me to the reunion. I think I’m losing my edge!

  Enviro-trouble

But he was so gracious to allow me to stay at his house while they were gone, helping me break up the long drive to Bozeman and providing me with yet another place to unload the contents of my car and two bikes while driving around Montana. What a relief!

It was a quick overnight stop in Missoula before heading 3 hours down the road to Bozeman.

A day on the ranch

My friend Cory is a total badass superhero and I would challenge anyone to dispute me on this fact. The woman, who I might point out is a fair bit younger than I am, has twin two year olds, a five year old, is running a sustainable, grass-fed cattle ranch with her husband Dave -- all the while single-handedly trying change the way the world thinks about food. Cory and I met at the PERC Environmental Institute last summer, shared a Marble Slab ice cream and were instant friends for life. Little did I know then how many times her dry wit and practicality cocktail would serve as my leveling agent in the months ahead, the perfect elixir that always manages to bring me back to center.

There was obviously no question that I would be stopping by Cory’s ranch on my way through Oregon. I had heard so much about it and couldn’t wait to see her and meet these imaginary kids of hers. The few days I spent in Wallowa, OR were life-changing for me. I watched Cory move about her daily activities of buying cattle, feeding pigs, collecting eggs from the chickens, taking care of her kids while in between finding time to meet with people who share her passion for creating awareness around sustainably grown food. I couldn’t believe everything she managed to get done in a day. Her energy was contagious. In the meantime, her husband Dave did his own work on the ranch and with the kids, including making the buns for our (AMAZING) hamburgers from scratch from the flour they had both grown and milled. Everything in their kitchen came straight from the earth. It was incredible.

I was so bummed I couldn’t kidnap Cory to come to the PERC reunion with me, but she had meetings in Portland to go to so she could sell her beef, and you really can’t argue with that. BTW, I love that TNC’s office in Portland goes in together to share one of her cows. We did that in the SF office too (with a local CA farmer), and it just made me happy knowing that one of my favorite people found a customer-base in my fellow TNC colleagues in OR. For anyone interested in learning more about why you should be buying grass-fed beef from a local farmer, check out Cory’s website: http://carmanranch.com.  Vote with your fork!!

Over the river and through the woods…

As much as I wanted a few extra days to hunker down in Seattle, I couldn’t drive all the way up the coast without stopping to see Grandma Jo (my mom’s mom), Richard, my aunt LaRae (mom’s sister) and cuz Justin who have all been situated in the Portland area for as long as I can remember. I actually hadn’t been to Portland since I was 14, which was my first trip on an airplane all by myself. (I guess I could attribute a lifetime of venturing off to far flung places by myself to this first trip.) LaRae, a fellow former actress, has some great photos of that time we spent together, including shots of me donning any number of her fancy dresses for my own personal modeling session. I wish I had a couple of them scanned to put in here because they’re pretty funny for a number of reasons – not the least of which is my Rapunzel-like hair which draped all the way down my back. I’m not sure if I actually expected a fair prince to use it to climb up to my window and rescue me from my parents back in 1990, but I apparently wasn’t ready to rule it out as a possibility. Anything can happen when you’re 14. I cut all my hair off my senior year of high school. It probably comes to no surprise that there was no prince to save me, just my parents support as I made my way to college in far away Texas.

Back in present-day Portland, I yearned for more time to spend with my relatives. We always enjoy our time together, and only having a day and a half was just not enough. We crammed a lot of fresh red raspberries and snap peas into our 36 hours, luxuriously eating them by the handful. And, after lingering over coffee and dramatic tales of my SF departure, I left LaRae & Justin behind and officially began my journey east. My first stop was a remote corner of NE Oregon near Walla Walla.

LaRae, Justin and me, in their beautiful garden.

When did all my friends move to Seattle?

It’s hard to believe, but before this trip I had never been to Seattle. Ever. It’s even harder to believe when I think about all the wonderful people I know who live in Seattle. And how close it is to SF. What in the world was I thinking? Only after an epic drive was I aware of what I had been missing out on, leaving me with just a bit of regret that I never made that weekend trip from SF. The one in a plane, not in a car. The good news is that I made it. Finally.
Five days seemed like a pretty good chunk of time to spend in Seattle. I knew I had many people to see, but proportionally it was the longest amount of time I was spending anywhere until I got to Montana. On top of the people who lived there, I also had friends from other places who were also going to be in town. Needless to say, five days was not enough. I was so grateful for the refuge of Elizabeth & Justin’s house – a bedroom all to my own and a place to set down all my worldly possessions in a safe, out-of-the-way space.

My buddies who helped with just about everything.

And a place to sleep at long last. I could have spent the entire time just sleeping. But there were people to see! Elizabeth and I had a great time wandering around the city, going for hikes, eating the most amazing stone fruit in Pike’s Place Market, shopping (mostly window) and generally hanging out.
Kimmy G was enjoying her first week at her new job after just wrapping up her own mass exodus/travel around the world/discover the next new thing. Elizabeth and I met her for a drink near the Conservation International office.

Kimmy G, Lizard & I enjoy a glass of wine in the sun.

I was really fortunate to get to spend time with my uncle Jami, Valerie and my cousins Micah, Josiah and Rachel all of whom I hadn’t seen in ages. In fact, I don’t think I had ever met Micah before. Considering he’s a rising Freshman, I would say a visit was a little overdue. Seriously??  

Here’s the motley crew of us at the bakery Rachel manages. Note that Rachel’s boyfriend is of no relation to me. Yet.  

I had a great couple days out at Bainbridge Island where I got to spend time with my friend Elizabeth from Austin who happened to be in town visiting her friend Dora. The three of us had all been to Puerto Vallarta for Katie Kahn’s wedding two years before and it was a great little reunion with a lovely hike in one of the island parks.

Since we didn’t take any pictures on Bainbridge, here’s a picture of Dora & Elizabeth (and Larry) when we were in Mexico.

On my last morning after a jam-packed Seattle extravaganza, I drove up to visit Maria and meet little Elena before I headed out of town. Maria and I had known each other since my early days at TNC and it was great drinking coffee out on her patio, catching up on TNC gossip, swapping upcoming international travel plans and reflecting on everything that had transpired in our lives in the past decade.

And with that, it was time to pack it all up again and move on. South this time, for a quick stop in Portland before heading heading East. I’d be lying if I didn’t say there wasn’t a slight melt-down before re-packing the car. Elizabeth and Justin had left to go to San Diego for some R&R and I was pretty overwhelmed by the prospect of being encumbered by all my belongings again. Shockingly, with all the socializing, there was very little time for sleep in Seattle (isn’t there a movie about that?) and I was still running a pretty significant deficit. But onward I must go, my PERC deadline in Montana driving me to the first finish line. Must… get… to Bozeman…

Crossing Bridges, Not Burning Them

I’ve known for a while that one of these days I’d be crossing the Golden Gate Bridge for the last time. I’ve traversed the Golden Gate countless times – mostly on my bike – but also in my car and sometimes on foot (a la bootcamp at 6a.m.) over the last five years and somehow the International Orange never ceases to inspire me. At first it was annoyingly cliché to be so awed by such a well-known landmark, but I quickly got over it. What can I say? The Golden Gate Bridge is magnificent. In fact, for someone wanting to make a dramatic exit, crossing the Golden Gate Bridge is not a bad way to go.

After a hearty, home-cooked breakfast with Elizabeth’s family, she and I headed back North, passing through San Francisco one last time. We stopped for my “final supper” in the Marina of all places, simply because Chestnut Street was the only place I felt comfortable leaving my overstuffed car parked for any length of time. (Keep in mind that at this point my little Integra had ALL of my valuable possessions in it. My passport, my social security card, the title to my car, my birth certificate. It also had both my bikes suspiciously strapped to a jerry-rigged roof rack I had bought off craigslist the day before from an OCD* eco tour operator in Oakland. *See Mieke for testimony on the OCD. “Good job. Good job.”) To satisfy Elizabeth’s quest to find a vegetable smoothie, we inadvertently stumbled into The Plant which happened to be the perfect final SF lunch spot. The menu consisted of a diverse array of organic and locally grown of salads, soups, sandwiches and yes, bizarre concoctions of liquefied kale, beet and other crunchy veggies I’m not entirely convinced should be drunk. Our bellies full of nutrition, we hit the road. This time it was for keeps.

About half way across the bridge I yelped, causing Elizabeth some alarm. How could I have forgotten the music? I grabbed my ipod and scrolled to “Over & Out,” the official playlist of my SF exodus. But even with Whitesnake blaring in the background, I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around what I was leaving behind. With Elizabeth in the car with me, it just seemed like a fun road trip up to Seattle. Not, “OMG I’m driving away from my life and everything I know.” I shrugged and figured that I either had made the best decision of my life, or that the demons would eventually catch up with me. Either way, in this moment everything was... perfect, really.

It wasn’t that far into Marin county that we diverged off the playlist and started playing the DJ game as only you can do with someone you’ve known all your life. Since Elizabeth didn't have a particular music genre in mind, I just told her to pick any song she wanted to hear. After running through some classics, we finally got down to business.

“What about that song that was playing in Family Ties when Michael J. Fox was breaking up with his girlfriend? That was his girlfriend in real life, you know.”

I grinned. How could I not have one of the songs that seemed to unlock the mysteries of our sixth grade ideal of love? Billy Vera crooned and we both sang along. We were in Arcata before we knew it.

Stopping to stroll among the redwoods.

Afternoon siesta on a beautiful (and windy) beach.

Cafe au lait in Arcata.