Reflections from Rafting the Rio

Today I rafter the Rio for the first time in my 2+ years of living right by it. Another woman on the trip, who had also lived in Austin before here, also expressed her surprise that most Burquenos' fear the Bosque, the unique stretch of trees and shrubs that create a home for hundreds of animal species, and the inspiration for all of the paddlers along the river today.

This is not my photo, but it slightly reflects the beauty I witnessed today. 

Today, we didn't fear the Bosque. We shook hands under the towering, spotting cottonwoods. We glided through the banks of our modern river, marveling at the ghosts of the old twists and turns, set straight by decades of miss-management. We marveled at the growth of willow, olive and cottonwoods on what used to be a sand bar. We heard from people who have spent decades of their lives studying bends in our river, planting trees on its banks, and comparing it's current CFS to historical currents. We bumped along 1500 CFS, wondering what it was like to paddle it at 300, dodging sandbars, or at 3000, when the raging rio floods some of the newly planted plains.

We watched New Mexico shed her skies like skin, shining her sweet rays of sun upon us, and then scattering some simple drops down upon us.

We dined on a deliciously contrasted meal of fritos and potato salad-- with silverware that was dumped out of a river rat's dry bag, and Perrier bottled water served in metal bowls by the resort who had set out the clothed tables and golden chairs for us. We watched a show of the Sandia's getting showered with sleet and snow, wondering if it would blow back to us, as we sat in the sun, then the shade, and the sun again. The ever changing New Mexico skies doing their passionate dance above us.

First time on a SUP on a river! 9.5 miles.

On my way home, reveling in my fear-conquering and powered by Enya's Boadecia while driving through the leafing grapevines in humble Corrales, I passed a brightly colored parachute waving in the breeze above a sign that read Garage Sale. Three mustashed men with relatively cheery attitudes overheard I was an educator, and gave me a deal on the bright colored parachute for my students, as well as two cute shirts. The guy who offered me $5 for the parachute hesitated when I realized I only had $3 in cash, and the other one said, "George, just smile and take her money." I promised them good Karma in return and the most friendly one yelled back that that was all he needed.

This is my city, my community, my home. These are my people. The desert dwellers along the Rio Grande are a peculiar people. We see beauty in shades of brown. We prepare for rain and snow on days we only get sunshine, and smile through sleet on days that were forcast to be cloudless. We don't pay much attention to forcasts. I've heard a lot of Burque-bashing lately, but today was a reminder of our resiliance. Burquenos are a beautiful people. We live with intention, singing to the plants we put in the ground. We embrace change around every corner, and expect that one day, any day, it might be time to pick up our things, leave many behind, say goodbye to our wilted plants, and make a new place home. But when we do, we will carry the same love and attention to our new communitities.

I'm writing this from my desk overlooking the Sandia's, which just disappeared in a mist. I'm listening to rain drops hit my metal fan, and looking at the Apache Plume flowers standing upright despite the wind. This desert has a certain magic to it, and the people that live here feel that magic. I love that.

Blessed, I am.

I am blessed to earn a living doing what I love and feeling like I can make a difference in this horrifying world. 

This week I brought a group of middle schoolers on their first backpacking trip. Never mind that most of them had never even packed a backpack before...the trip was full of firsts for me as well. My first time to Pie Town, NM and the Gila, ad well as Silver City and Elephant Butte, and my first time running a backpacking trip for my company (I'm usually the homebody at base camp). 

It's wonderful to watch a group of kids who would otherwise be "watching TV and sleeping" challenge themselves to carry 1/3 of their body weight on a 5 mile journey over a mountain and into a remote canyon. It's equally powerful to watch and encourage them to engage with one another and figure out what their own limits are and how to push through them.
Despite several nights and mornings below freezing, 20 mph winds and a flat tire, we all were reminded of the value of community, companionship, and quiet... and were reminded of the comforts of home that we often take for granted.

 I am blessed that I get to teach these lessons with every trip I take. I get to practice living minimally, and shocking children with concepts of my everyday life like homemade deodorant and not owning a television. And I learn so much from each group. This week I learned that camo hats get easily lost in trees; that sucking on a tea bag doesn't make tea; that you can disprove unwarranted first impressions; and that the sun often shines on the other side of the mountain. 

I also confiirmed, through many conversations, that the world is just about full of people...and many of them need more attention than they can get. And my place in this world is to give attention to those in need, whether children or adults... (but never babies. Ew)

Paradigm Shift

I have been doing a lot of watching in last two years. I have done a lot of listening as well. Each month I struggled to gather my thoughts with enough evidence to make a post, and today...almost a year since creating this draft, I am going to do my best to unveil my honest, startling conclusion about the state of the world, and how to move forward.
The blockage of this Blog in my brain can attribute to a lack of other posts environmental related. I feel like this confession/interpretation/understanding is really the keystone to all my future environmental ethic. Which is also why it's taken me so long to produce. That said... it's very much in it's infant stages.

On a 70 mile drive back from San Lorenzo Canyon yesterday, I heard a quiet twenty year old get really loud. In fact, for about 15 minutes he wouldn't shut up. He wasn't yelling... but the tone in his voice was both angry and inspiring. It started from a simple question. Did he think that the efforts made by a non-profit organization he was a part were having their desired impact on the Foster Care system... a broken system in my much need of a revolution-- not unlike our country's education system. What struck me the most through his soap box response was not just his passion, but his hopelessness.


 Three years ago, I would spend a week at a time with a group of students from LA, guiding them in classes about water quality, the rock cycle and native plants, and hoping that they would come away with at least a small seed of environmental appreciation planted. On the final day, as they kids were lining up to take a bus back down to one of the biggest cities in the country, I would ask what they're going to do when they get home. "Take a LONNGGG shower!" was usually the response, much to the dismay of my efforts and the shrinking southern California water supply. But a few kids would speak up with the desired answers. "I learned to care for the Earth, cause it's all we have!" or "I'm going to reuse things in my house before I throw them away." Back then, my heart would be warmed by these answers.

I can't say what has changed in the last three years. Have *I* lost my flowery optimism for the world? Has the current political state and the farce of our presidential election system sucked the romance out of my dreams for the future? I think that the consistent ignorance towards the pleas, pushes and consequences given by renowned and respected scientists regarding Climate Change has left me with little faith in our current society.

E O Wilson's new book Half-Earth embraces the shift as well. Much different than his pleas in The Future of Life, Half-Earth fully embraces our "sixth-extinction," while suggesting some even bigger steps we're clearly not ready for. Wilson echo's the hopes of many- that we can we still pull together and change--and that we need to do it like, now (or yesterday).

I'm increasingly feeling that our last saving ship has sailed...Yet at the same time, I teach. I encourage that a slow path toward change will be the most lasting one. I still reach into trash cans to remove a water bottle or two. I still practice a vegan diet for mostly ethical reasons. I am committing my entire life to teaching the world around me of the value of our environment. So, why? If it's hopeless?


Because I don't think that our world is totally fucked. It's true I don't have the hope I did just two years ago, that we could still maintain homeostasis on this beautiful planet. I haven't given up hope... I've just shifted my view. And that twenty year old at the beginning of the story did too. Kids who years ago were preaching the importance of recycling, are now trying to figure out what their role will be in the great inevitable apocalyptic collapse. At least, the ones I hang out with.

A year ago I took a class from an herbalist about the local plants in my park. I thought that as caretaker, I should probably have greater knowledge of what's growing here. What really struck me from her wholistic, earth-loving lessons, was the way in which she spoke of two Class C invasive plants to New Mexico-- the Slippery Elm and Bindweed. Although both are a known nuisance in the state, she spoke of their medicinal and practical uses. It was the first time I realized that our world is shifting.


We, as a society, need to move away from business as usual (gosh, I've said that before), and embrace our changing climate. We may not all survive the coming floods and fires, but the quicker we embrace the plants that grow in the drought rather than pulling them, or practice building communities rather than facebook groups, the greater chance our species is going to have of surviving.

One thing that really struck me from this 20 year old's speech, was his plea for a leader. "We need change! We need a revolution...and we need someone to lead it". I wonder who that someone will be. I haven't lost hope in humanity, but I know we need to change the way we look at this world, if we're going to stay in it. I have had more and more conversations about the sad, decaying state of the world...no longer as a place we can salvage, but one we have to learn from quick, or suffer our own consequences. No more conversations about the possibilities of our planet, but decisions of what to hold on to. I waited a long time before publishing this conclusion, but I think it's time the world (reading this) knows...it's time to change your mind. We can no longer save us from ourselves. We can only prevent further damage.

"We are thinking organism trying to understand how the world works," write E. O. Wilson. "We will come awake"

Reflections on traveling abroad, alone.

Now that I'm back in America, I have some final reflections from my 2 weeks away.

What I'll miss about the uk:
-The smell of toast in the morning
-Cool Humidity
-Birds of all types chirping in the morning
-Lights that turn yellow before they turn green
-Standing at bars  (rather than barstools)
-Stairs
-British accents
- more lax about things like personal hygiene
- poached eggs

Things I could take or leave:
- shops closing down after 6 (thought I guess Albuquerque does that to sine extent)
-posh culture
-dapper men
-8 million people
- transport via tube

What I'm looking forward to upon return:
- Sun
- vast open spaces
- my park
- my sweet Sid
- my full music collection (with the exception of wax tailor I only allowed myself to listen to British artists during my travels. Which turned out to be not so bad)

Thoughts on packing an urban backpack:
While I greatly enjoyed the pride I felt at being able to carry everything I needed for two weeks x4, it caused some hassles... and there are a few things I would change.
I was told twice that I was "over dressed" which I assume was in reference to my backpack. One guy told me I looked like I was ready for the arctic (nope) and another asked if I was sleeping on a bench that night. To which I replied that I didn't know yet (though I did).
At the end of my trip, my backpack weighed about 27lbs, but my shoulder bag was probably about 10. I tried to mostly acquire light clothing, though I did pick up one pretty dense rock and 3 books. I didn't even buy gifts for all the people I thought of.... due to the diminishing space. But there are some things I would do differently.
1) enough socks and underwear for the whole trip (I ended up buying both, but more for the opportunity than out of need, which there also was)
2) two jackets and two pairs of shoes proved helpful though not necessary. I could have done with less shirts. Because I bought 4 shirts and two pants my first day I about doubled my wardrobe. I would have rather that space for gifts our souvineers.
3) fixed my buckle before I left. I meant to replace the buckle oh my backpack. I ended up just taking it off and tying it, which took a bit more time but had the desired effect of causing the backpack to rest well on my hips so I could hardly feel the 30lbs shadowing me.
4) I was pleased that I happened to but a bigger shoulder bag, as it held more of the crap I acquired, for better or worse. I was also glad that I decided against getting rid of my computer. Even though it's a mini, it's at least 3lbs that I carried around all of England but  only used twice. I had considered wiping the memory and recycling it at the beginning of my trip, but when my phone started flaking out I was glad I had it as back up.

Final thoughts:
I feel that I achieved my goals of finding historical context, self reflecting, and challenging myself to do new things. I made memories and came to understandings that will affect the rest of life. However, I spent more money than I felt cause to... and I missed my beautiful community. I am looking forward to putting my energies into my community now that I have fulfilled my need for far off adventures. I will always have a sense of wanderlust that is kept in balance by my homing nature. I am fortunate to have a profession where I can achieve both, and I am looking forward to giving my all to that.

Last day in the U.K.

I took a little break from blogging for my birthday, and because by the time I arrived to my humble bnb for the night, I was to disenchanted to type anything unbiased.

I woke up on my birthday on a 7th floor flat in the heart of London. I snoozed for an hour then went in a run like the Londoners do- weaving in and out of tourists along busy Oxford street, crossing under the marble arch into Hyde park and back. Running through all those changing obstacles was way more intense than running on trail, although the air quality and hard pavement make it less ideal.
I spent the rest of the morning with my friend Jodi, walking around town, shopping at Primark and Snog and sine strange little sex shops in SoHo. It was nice to feel a little more like a local, but maybe I let it go to my head. I left Jodi for my much anticipated room, and adorable- looking room on the south bank of the Thames, and after just one turn around, I made it.
Immediately I was disappointed. Not only did I get asked to buy a high schooler cigarettes, the room want in great condition and the sheets weren't clean.  This little sanctuary  where I was going to reflect on my last year didn't have the vibe I was hoping for, and ironically was the least appealing of all the airbnbs I stayed in.
So, as to not dwell, but enjoy the daylight remaining, I head out toward the river accompanied by Damien Rice, and watched the sun fade and the building lights come on. 

After a peaceful little dinner in a building where they used to forge iron, I made easy to the Globe for one of the best theatrical experiences of my life. 

Turns out The Winters Tale, for which I bought the last available ticket, which was two seats from the corner of the small stage, was actually in the Sam Whitiker theatre, a smaller indoor style theatre styled for Shakespeare's later plays. That means that there were only 100 or so audience members, and at times I could have reached out ans touched the actors.
The inside of the theatre had a 17th venture feel, complete with astrology paintings on the ceiling. The seats were but benches, but since I was on the front row, I could lean into the railing. The actually performance was remarkable, stylized, intimate and entertaining. I loved every moment of it, and it was worth every pence. From actors belting the fourth wall by handing off items, drinking wine our kissing the audience to several interesting dance and singing scenes, I felt fully enraptured in the play.
Sadly, it came to an end, and I decided to walk home feeling only a bit nervous about walking home alone at night. I returned to my unappealing room and shut out the world. 

This morning I packed up my bags, though not for the last time. I still have two days of journeying and much time and space to conquer. With so much ahead of me, I didn't want to do anything to complicated.... but I DID go to the museum of natural history, the science museum and the Victoria and Albert museum. 

But not before having my third avocado and toast.  :) 

I mostly explored the science museum because it cost £8 to do my bags at the natural history museum! I walked through the halls though, and to the Darwin Centre, where I enjoyed watching scientists work on a whale skeleton that had been on display for 81 years, as well as rows and rows of old collections in jars. (Unfortunately I mostly used my camera to capture these).

At the science museum, I enjoyed the clock and watch collection, and the basement collection of appliances from people's homes.

 Not only was I overwhelmed by the 5 floors of stuff and information..... there must have been at least a thousand school children screaming and running through any of the exhibits. Overhearing the delight of two girls behind me in the space room, made me think about how I once marveled museums but now am overwhelmed by them. As a child, I think museums are a great way to introduce you to single items and concepts, and start connecting them. Once you maintain your own web of understanding, they are of less use, save the areas of your interest. 

I only walked through the Victoria and Albert museum on my way to the train, but now I can say I've been there. I arrived ay the airport a few hours before my flight but I didn't want any complications.
Next stop, NYC... A much needed catch up date with my dear friend Stephanie. Then to Denver for another one with my cousin Brittney before arriving in the caring hands of my lover, and finally going home.

Eyes and ears in England

My what my eyes have seen today and my ears did hear.
I saw:
*a group of dancers singing hari Krishna in the street, accompanied by a man decorated in los of yellow and gold fabric
*A GIANT disco ball

*dozens of bow and arrows, spears, guns, locks, purses, beads, drums, jewelry, capes and ancient toiletries... organized by item in the Pitts River museum in Oxford

*fossils and animals relics of all types in the most beautiful museum I've ever been in

Just upon entry it was love. 

*a piece of road paved in ox and sheep knuckle bones

And I've heard:

*A live organist playing Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor at Oxford's town hall

*3 hours of British poets and comedians performing live at the poetry cafe near Drury lane (where sadly there is muffin man)

What a day indeed! And a short post since it is technically tomorrow, and my birthday.

I think I enjoyed the museum as much if not more than the parts within. 

Aaah! Oxford...

Today's highlights were: Sun, skies and beautiful buildings. (And dare I say, my phone)
The only downside was some immense cramping that made everything uncomfortable for most of the day. 

I woke up in my beautiful bedroom to the sun coming over the Royal Crescent across the street. After some dancing, I went for a stroll with a playlist of English musicians around Victoria park. It was a lovely sunshiney morning and my spirits were high.

 I came back to pack up again and hit the Jane Austen center. I was never a huge fan, though I watched the 2005 Pride and Prejudice a few nights ago, but this museum was captivating. They started you off with a live Museum curator giving a history of Jane Austen's family. Then they release you into a room that explains what residents of Bath were like when Jane Austen lived there. I most enjoyed (and part of the reason I went was) the costume dress up area, and they also had a calligraphy pen to play with. 

Some fun facts:

*Jane Austen's books weren't published with her name until after she died (in 1817, the first in her family, other than her father to pass, and just 41).
*She nor her sister Cassandra ever married. But her 5 brothers did, I think.
*her brother Henry named the books Persuasion and P&P, which were better than her original titles
I finished my tour by buying two books - Austen's history of England, written when she was 11, and a book of spirits she shared with her sister. Then I went up for a tea.

 Eating sandwiches full of dairy was definitely a bad idea in hindsight but I wanted the experience.

And I got to dine with Mr. Darcy.

After tea I departed Bath for Oxford passing the Didcot power plant just hours(?) Before part of it exploded. (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-oxfordshire-35641766)

Every new town I visit I swear I like more than the last. I am so thankful I journeyed beyond London, and am already dreaming I could stop time and walk across this whole country. 

As I write this, chomping away at a veggie burger and chips in lieu, yet again, of the salad I was planning on, 

and I'm listening to two bearded Oxfordians discuss American pop culture due to the terrible Katy Perry/Miley Cirus station on. (That was auto corrected to millet citrus)

Yet Oxford initially was much different than I expected. I imagined Charles Darwin types walking around big buildings stroking their beards. I was met with a newer vibe than I expected. A modern town pulsing with new thought but built on the shoulders of giants.

I arrived with a couple hours to kill so I just key my feet direct me. I wound up in a very overwhelming museum of Art and Architecture, where I passed an hour comparing old coins, learning about historical material conservation, and passing mummies and Grecian statutes. Then I made my way "home"for the night, taking a long but magical detour. 

I think my favorite part of England has been making connections to places I've read about, and imagining the inventors, explorers and philosophers who created and shaped our world standing on the same streets and seeing some of the same sights. I'm looking forward to Museuming tomorrow before returning to London.