Chi, Bia, and Sweat

Kawasaki

Our travels were without peril and our brief layover in Kawasaki was lovely.  As we exited the well-organized train system that took us from the Haneda Airport to our micro airbnb, we immediately noticed the generosity of the locals and the cleanliness of the streets.  Feng shui was apparent everywhere.  From the curbs that barely touched your ankles to the driveways that housed vehicles smaller than an All-American Harley blanketed by bonais, there was no trash and no disorder.  The spaces maximized functionality and human movement - there was no space to waste.  There was no music coming out of the homes, and people talked quietly.

Bicyclists and pedestrians ruled the narrow streets at a leisurely pace.  While walking around after a brief rest, we were noticeably lost looking for a place to eat.  A petite beautiful middle-aged woman who spoke great english approached us and asked with great (yet quiet) energy if we needed some help.  Yes, Please! We are hungry, not for our 10 pounds of trail mix and crackers we packed, but for  local food.  The woman ushered us to her sisters small bakery and asked her sister to hustle down the street to find an open restaurant.  She narrated the entire interaction for us in English and soon we were seating in a clean air-conditioned restaurant, with tenpura and cold soba noodles on the way.  This woman ordered for us and told us how much it cost.  I would eat battered and fried pumpkin every other day for millennia if I had too. Bicyclists and pedestrians ruled the streets and we never saw a single bike locked. 

The next morning we rose early and walked down the street The Kawasaki Daishi Temple.  I can't describe it's beauty and intricacies.  We honored the Yakuyoke Kobo Daishi in a brief prayer before we hustled back to the train > airport.  

Hanoi

We have lived in Hanoi for 40 hours.  We have walked nearly 20 miles around the city already, watching people and their interactions, eating pho, sushi, and seeking fluids for consumption or submersion by the half hour.  Our first impression - the people are noticeably respectful.  They nod as we pass and many say hello with a grin so big it would make my whole face soar to do so, and I try to back at them.  You know how you recognize things that people don't do, and therefore you later notice things they do or others do because of it's absence?  Well the Hanoi's don't holler at Molly, they don't beg, they push you to buy their goods, and they don't care that we absolutely butcher the simplest phrases of their language.  But they will hit you on their motorbikes if you don't move swiftly.

Yesterday in the middle of our morning cruise around the Ba Dihn District, we stopped over at a little restaurant by the a lake for a "quick" bite.  There was a couple of young gentlemen in plastic kiddy chairs with plates full of sautéed greens, salads, and fried tofu amidst their third or fourth Bia on ice all littered on the small plastic table.  We pointed to a picture of a meal we though looked well-rounded from the menu, finished our ration of water, and watched as a dozen more young men began to filter into their respective tables and chairs after parking their bikes, order a case of Saigon Bia, smoke their cigarettes, and chit chat about life.  This seems like a typical Sunday for many men.  We were here for nearly an hour before we went about 1/4km down the street for a rare non-alcoholic bev - iced juiced.  Here, be found our love for the Google translate app.  We have since found a few phrases we have documented on our necessary pocket notebook..  This will be our saving grace as we navigate the language and city we are growing to love.  The streets are busy, some boulevards have full canopies, and the parks are full of children playing, people centering their chi, and passing the shuttlecock back and forth.

Today we will look for an apartment and hit up the ethnology museum.  Stoked and sending love all around.  

Street lined with old bonsai's for ~1.5km

Life of a motorbike

LNT #1: Plan ahead and prepare

The week leading up to our departure from Oregon was a logistical and emotional high speed corkscrew roller coaster.  Molly and I are extremely fortunate to have such a warm blanket of support from our friends and family to help us move forward with this journey.  Thanks to Curt and Kaeko for watching Bruno and bringing him into your home.  We know he is happy with sister Rowsy, plenty of treats, and beautiful walks on the ranch.  Thank you to Chuck and Sandra for helping organize next summers wedding housing and venue logistics and helping to ease housing pressures by offering house shut-down services.  Thank you to our many friends - Storms, Benny, Tuck and Hope who traveled to say hello - for sharing great meals, beach vibes and fun twilight park chilling in the evenings leading up to our departure.  Time with you saved us from insanity and reminded us of how great our buds are!  Thank you to Josh and Becky for loaning us tools, vehicles, and feeding our stressed bodies as scrambled for something to go as planned.  Thank you to mama Nancy for being present, offering realistic options, and always stoked for our adventure.  

There are many things to remember from this move, but a theme is preparation.  I am always surprised by how applicable the 1st Leave No Trace guideline is, particularly outside a wilderness setting.  In the front country (and backcountry, I suppose) it may be interpreted as a Leave No Waste guideline - not wasting time, resources, and energy.  

Planning ahead is a tricky practice and is often at odds with presence; if you are always planning, how do you embrace the moment and be aware of your surroundings and yourself?  One aspect of the art of living lies in the balance of being just prepared enough to know how things might unfold given your circumstances and to make adjustments in the moment because the situation calls for something different than you originally planned.  Planning for the sake of sticking to that plan will rarely work, but planning allows you to be knowledgeable enough about a topic or a situation to know which way you can adjust your plan to meet the needs of those involved.  This balance has countless implications for our housing search, upcoming travels, and certainly in the classroom.  Planning is critical!  The LNT brainchildren sure know it! But I find solace in knowing over-planning does exist and it is often at the expense of the learning opportunities for the people involved - students.

As we currently fly at 600+mph over over pacific, we have planned to not head into downtown Tokyo for the infamous robot show… who knows if that plan will actually stick.

We are wide awake on the plane after a restless 3 hr slumber last night.    We are excited to settle into Hanoi in the coming two weeks without major obligations, and keep up the adventure.

Mentorship and Inspiration

Yesterday I skied with two buddies on Mt. Tumalo in the Oregon Cascades.  It was a striking blue bird day, with unimpeded
views of the snow covered Three Sisters.  This ski tour was a second reunion of the Blackburn, Schmidt, Cam spring mountain trio.  Last year around this time we boot packed our skis up to the snow line at the base of Three-Fingered Jack for an awesome descent down the East Ridge.  We have been blessed with loads of snow this year, so we played the safe approach game and went to Tumalo instead.

This picture is iconic for two of the features.  First, is one of my best buddies Benny is featured in the foreground.  The second, is the middle peak in the background - Middle Sister, or "Hope".  Back in 2009, Benny and I were between our Junior and Senior years of college, waiting for fires to burn the Oregon Forests so we could have summer work... an unusual quandary.  So we filled our packs with gear for a three day trip into the Three Sisters wilderness.  Our goal was to camp at a lake near the base of Hope the first night.  We hiked through the afternoon, found the lake, and established our camp under a scraggly weathered tree, ten feet from the edge of a 100 ft. cliff.  That night after dinner, we sat on the edge and watched the sunset slowly over the western Cascades, with Hope beaming in the alpenglow behind us.  It was an ethereal experience, and my first true backpacking overnight.

The next day, we rose with the sun as is peaked over the mountain, and began our trek to the summit.  Shortly after reaching treeline, we lost the trail and scrambled our way over large boulders to the summit scree-covered summit ridge.  The summit climb took longer because we lost the trail, and we were tired and hungry on top.  Benny had forgotten his snacks back at camp and I traded a bit of our meager rations for a cigarette on the summit - wow, how times have changed!  As we descended the mountain, hungry and parched, we glissaded down the western Renfrew glacier for over a mile.  The glacier was steep enough, and out boots just long enough to act as skis.  Luckily, the August snowpack hadn't revealed any crevasses.  I don't think I knew about crevasses at that point anyway.

We made it safely back to camp that night and back to Eugene the next day.  Looking back on this trip - thanks to Benny for being the brains and motivator of the idea - it was an extremely formative experience. People are the motivators and initiators of great ideas.  Mountains, lakes, cliffs, and alpine wildlife bring us back to a feeling of security, centeredness and humility, but people are the motivators, and mentorship is the relationship that buds growth and viability in the backcountry.  Many of us have played to role of mentoring and teaching in the outdoors, and all of us have played the role of learner.  Friendships grow stronger, and learning about ourselves and our purpose on Earth become more visible, when the mentor/mentee relationship is dynamic between friends, and over time.  My friendship with Benny has taken this path over the last ten years as our lives always reconnect.  We have taught each other the benefit of mutual inspiration, and I owe it to him the importance this interdependence has played in the trajectory of my life since that trip.