Going Solo

8/22/2012

23:58 PST

Woolley Mammoth



It appears as though my affinity to procrastinate permeates even here. I am many entries behind in this blog. Several very cool things have transpired since I've arrived here at The Woolley Mammoth. But you will just have to wait until I finish writing and editing those entries. 

Yes. I'm anal. But hopefully getting the ball rolling on current stuff will motivate me to catch up with the older stuff. The reality is that I've actually been working. A lot. And I'm beat at the end of the day. I plink out a few notes so that I don't forget the details and then I faceplant into LaLa Land.

Until then... I had to write tonight because something significant happened that will dramatically change the nature of my upcoming journey into Central America. I will no longer be accompanied by anyone else as I travel south. Leah is unable to join me and so I will be heading out alone. I'll be going solo.



I spent the majority of the day setting up the new goat pasture. Goats are voracious eaters. They can turn meadows full of blackberry brambles into a stripped and trampled no man's land within days. We have to constantly shift their electric fences to make sure they have plenty to eat.

Goats are creatures perfectly adapted to survive in high desert (steppe) habitats. They eat almost anything that's green, they can climb (sometimes on top of each other) to get to it, and they almost never drink water. Their intestines even extract and recycle water from their feces to be. I learned from gutting one the other day that somewhere around half of their body weight is made up of their four stomachs. Each one progressively breaks down their food into smaller, more digestible pieces. The next time you look at one, notice the bulges sticking out behind their ribs. Those are them, and they're full of chewed up bits of whatever used to be growing in front of them.

Setting up a new goat fence means moving the goats to greener pastures. But mostly, it means bushwhacking. Goats will devour anything you would refer to as underbrush, but you have to fence them in to keep them there long enough. Which means you have to cut out all the blackberry thorns, and swordferns, and thick fallen rotting tree limbs, and nettles and meet face to face all the fun spiderwebs in between.

Tools of the trade include: boots, carharts, a set of sharp but slightly squeaky pruners, ear muffs, a spinning wheel of shrubbery death (metal edged weed whacker) and a trusty, kinda rusty chainsaw. The idea is to cut a swath through the forest in an elliptical manner so as to reunite yourself from whence you came. This is not, always as easy as it sounds. It is very easy to find yourself veering off target and/or miscalculating the previously ordained distance (based on your fence length) into the middle of nowhere. I accomplished both of these things today.

By the time I had successfully completed my misinterpreted instructions from Jeff he had returned from delivering his shirt orders to help me install the fence. Although he was slightly disappointed that I had not placed the path where he had intended, he quickly assured me that it was actually a great placement and apologized for not being more specific. He's a good guy to work for.

The next task required herculean focus not to entangle three hundred feet of plastic netting and poles on any lingering branch, thorn, or itself for that matter while dragging it around to install on the new path. Next, we release the goats to experience momentary freedom while we connect all parts of the fence. We haul their shelter into the new paddock and herd them along before sealing the line behind them. After eight hours of hacking and hauling I'm beat and ready for a nap.

I stomped my heavy boots up the spiral staircase and collapse on the floor. Two kitties promptly purr their demands. So I pet them and then shut myself in my room. On the bed I go. SLEEP!

BUZZ BUZZ! It's a text from Leah.

"Im afraid I have bad news amigo :c"

Ahhhh, man. This is either a joke or she's going to tell me she can't make the trip. The sinking feeling in my stomach tells me she's out of the race. She calls. Something terrible is happening to one of her close friends and they need her pretty badly. Of course, Leah drops everything to do exactly that.

You can never know what you would do in a situation like that until it happens. I don't know what I would do if something terrible happened with one of my friends or with someone in my family. I'm pretty dead set on this trip. I have a lot invested in it. Well. Literally everything, actually. I don't know what kind of paradigm shift I'd have to accomplish in order to alter the course of this comet right now. So kudos to you, Leah! Don't worry, I'm not sad... A little, but more proud of you for taking care of the people you love. Good on ya!

Real talk, though. I was a little bummed. In front of me is this grand adventure. I'm off into Central America in 28 days, with tons of shit to wrap up before I go and now I'll be landing in that airport con solamente yo. No posse. No body. Just this guy. But you know what? It's going to be an adventure. I'm locked in. Nothing is stopping me now. I'm going to step outta that airport and walk smack dab into a whole new world. I'm going to take that world, wrap it up in one giant, Lito sized burrito and eat that baby up. Cause it's on, amigo. It's go time.

...Now Is Good

8/14/2012



Ahhhhhhhhh... Wakin' up slow.. 

It's the farmer's life for me! Not the get up at the ass crack of dawn, work your bones into the soil kind of farmer. Think more along the lines of compost piles and greenhouse maintenance. We work hard in spurts, avoiding the heat of the midday sun, stock up on naps, and take plenty of time for whatever other projects we may be juggling. Overall, it's not a bad life.

I finally seem to be catching up with the incredible sleep loss I'd accumulated over the past... tsht...

Man.........

Years. 


I don't remember the last time I felt "rested". Truly rested. 

Yesterday, I took a nap in the afternoon. From one o'clock to six-thirty. I got up. Slowly. Read a little "A People's History of the United States" by Howard Zinn, made meself a little quinoa, egg and bean salad, kicked it for a few with my fellow hipps and slammed my brain back into that pillowcase by nine pm. Glorious.

These days... I get up - when I want. I work - pretty hard, when I want. And then I do whatever I want - (usually read, cook, play guitar or watch episodes of "Ancient Aliens" on Netflix). Then I go back to sleep. It's becoming more and more clear how much I have underestimated how much sleep I needed.

I slept a lot as a younger person. It was never a mystery that I required more sleep than the average bear. However, the reality is that I used sleep as an escape from my constant depression and I shied away from it as I grew into adulthood. 

But it wasn't just that. I had shit to do! Job. Sometimes two. Plus trying to live a somewhat educational and entertaining lifestyle. Even with my dedicated nap time, I never seemed to catch up to where I was... Oh.. Let's say - probably since I was eighteen. How many times can you honestly say that you can wake up with no concern whatsoever for what happens if you roll over and sleep another two or three hours. Maybe so on the weekends. But certainly not day after day. And here's the kicker: I am still super productive. I'm not a leech. Although I'm not paying rent or being paid with dollar bills, I am paying my way through my lifestyle. It's just a little different than what most people are used to.




I promise I'll get back to the details of my journeys. What I've been up to, what I've seen and what things have happened. I do have a lot of cool things to tell you. But at the moment I'm just reveling in the realization that I AM shifting back into a different time space. I am moving into a paradigm that parallels most other busy bees in this world. I was one once. And I will be again. But right now, I am a king on a thirsty throne. I am an ephemorous, shape-shifting nebulous cloud. I am swishing seaweed on a salty seafloor. Nothing but my own thoughts shape my destiny. For better or worse - I am nowhere but the eternal present.

The Woolley Mammoth

8/6/12

22:03

PST

The journey has begun... FINALLY!

After my last day of work at the Albuquerque BioPark on July 27th, I hopped a flight to PDX, snagged a shuttle from the airport to the king bed my parents reserved me at the Marriott and crashed. Hard. I hadn't slept like that in weeks. I've been too busy selling and slinging my cumbersome worldly possessions to friends and strangers for the past couple of months. What the hell happened? Everything I owned used to fit into my Subaru. Now, I have a whole house full of knickknacks and useless items. Like dishes! I've gotta get rid of these things! They're crampin' my style.

I finally sold both my car and my bike at the very last minute. No joke. I didn't get top dollar. But I didn't get screwed either. I got what I needed for my trip and I was happy about the people I gave things to. I found good homes for my belongings. I think that was important to me somehow. Your things are a part of you in a way and I wanted them to live on in good hands.

I arrived in Oregon with two Rubbermaid totes, a camera bag and my beloved 42 liter red Deuter backpack. In it is everything I will be taking to Guatemala. The rest of the things were either gifts or the bite-sized sentimental objects that made the cut and will be time capsuled in the attic above my parents' garage. 

I'm not going to lie. Sorting through every little thing that I owned and slimming it down to 21 pounds of stuff is not easy. Even for me. People get attached to their stuff. Stupid things. Like an old torn up T-shirt. Or a set of colored pencils that I've had since I was 14 but only used twice. 

Slowly, I build momentum and very little seems important enough to hold onto. I can't imagine myself coming back years from now to sort through boxes and boxes of mundane objects. They're really not that special. In the end, it feels great to lighten my load. I realize that as soon as it's gone it's out of my mind and I won't miss it. I don't want anything holding me back. Not even those colored pencils.

A couple of days at the family lake house is enough time to enjoy myself briefly before reuniting with my instincts to run away at the first opportunity. I love my parents, but they are overwhelming. Check, please!

Off to a little quality time with my sister, Sarah, and my friends from my hometown. Eric and Russell never fail to assist my ambitious intoxication efforts. Eighteen hours later I am still reeling from one of the top three hangovers of all time. Ugh. I tried drinking it away in the morning but was only successful in amplifying it. Bleh. No mas cervesas, por favor.

Eric and I had a nice lunch with his sister Melissa and her husband Evan in downtown Portland at a little place called Por Que No. It was great to hang out with all of them right before I hopped on my northbound train.

I had chosen this particular work exchange north of Seattle for a couple of reasons. Proximity being one of the most important. But also because I missed the lush green landscapes of the temperate rain forests in the Pacific Northwest. Something I had missed quite considerably over the past couple of years. The train pulls me farther north, into the dense living mass, and I can feel my green meter move from "E" to "Full".

Only a short wait at the station before I am greeted by Jeff and his girlfriend, Amy. We stop by the grocery store on the way back to the commune and pick up a few essentials."A ripe watermelon," Amy requests. "Today was the hottest day of the year. It sounds so refreshing!" 

We walk into the store and I get my first real opportunity to speak to Jeff. I had learned from my previous travels to ask specific questions about the situation I would be getting myself into. But despite my best efforts to find out what kind of work I would be doing - how much, where I would be sleeping and what the atmosphere was like - all I got out Jeff on the phone was a quiet, "We're trying to build a sustainable community living space. We try not to work too hard. We generally work about three days a week, six hours a day. We like music festivals. Do you like music?" Heeeeeeeeeeell yeah I do! Unless this is some sort of cruel conspiring hippie trap this place sounds amazing! It's a short drive outside the small town to the property. And at the end of a trip on the winding Bacus Road lays the giant sleeping Woolley Mammoth!

I always enjoy arriving to a new destination at night. This way I get to experience the magic of entering a whole new world twice. At night, I get brief glimpse at a small piece. But in the morning - I get to eat the whole pie!

Everyone I meet here is very welcoming and kind. And everyone, it seems, has a good amount of skill or knowledge in things I am very interested in learning about. For example: the process and benefits of food fermentation such as kimchee and kambucha, herbal supplements, healing and general nutrition, goat keeping and even screen printing. There's a lot to learn here. I almost wish I had more than a month to spend. Overall, the experience I plan on having here will fly by quickly, and I may arrange to swing back by on my way back from the third world... Whenever that may be.

As it turns out, my room has a killer view of the valley below. As it also turns out, my room was the intended walk-in closet of the "Master Bathroom Wing" for the wife of a failed dot com millionaire. But don't worry. It's a cozy 144 square feet. I guess now would be a good time to mention that the house I'm staying in is massive. MASSIVE. It's 8,600 square feet. Jeff bought it as a foreclosed shell following the exodus of Mr. and Mrs. Bankrupt to New Zealand. What was once intended to be a modern monarch's mansion for two is now the happily converted hippie commune for twelve. And that, my furry little friends, is irony that you can not make up.

I hope you've enjoyed my first ever blog post. I haven't traditionally been this open and expressive about my personal life. However, I am aspiring to involve writing more heavily into my life, and I thought that this might be a great way to practice that all while keeping a record of my life and travels for myself and my friends. Expect to see more fairly regularly. I'm not sure how much of my daily life people will be interested in. For that, I may keep personal journal entries separate, and condense the more notable items into the blog... But I'm open to feedback. So let me know what you think. Shoot me an email - litocroy@gmail.com. I'm sure this will evolve into its own creation soon enough. 

Also expect to see some flashbacks as there are stories I would like to chronicle but haven't yet gotten the chance or motivation to record. I may choose to publish those entries as a separate blog. Stay tuned for info on that.

Cheers!