The Edge [of all] Journeys

Episode 3 of Journeys – a serial, rough-cut documentary composed of Motion Snapshots from our life on the road. July 2009: In this episode we play on the beach at Neskowin, Oregon.

Thanks for all the comments on the last post. I realized a few hours after posting that I probably did the adventure a cursory injustice. In my haste to get it posted while I had a connection I left out the emphasis that all your comments made up for: it was a truly blessed trip! And even with the tire explosion and all, it was awesome. It defined why we’re doing this. It sounds crazy but I love flat tires! Not necessarily the specific inconvenience of having to change a flat in a potentially dangerous situation – but the general archetype of the Flat Tire! The unexpected! The Challenge! The reliance – the adventure of discovering how YHWH is going to get us out of that one. 🙂

And He did – all the provision was in place, and my praise to Him for the journey was grossly lacking from the last post. Sure I had to sweat a little and work a little, and I was tired when we arrived, and I hope I don’t have any other blow-outs as long as we travel, but I DID love it anyway. And YES – we are protected. Protection doesn’t mean we won’t have to deal with anything hard. But it means that if we put all of ourselves into LIFE and trust the outcome to YHWH then He will prove faithful every time.

So, yes, we definitely had fun that day. And we love and miss all of you reading too! Sorry we don’t have more time to say so personally, individually, but hopefully Father will give us time together down the road… literally… 🙂

Here are some excerpts from the overall trip from Winnipeg to the West Coast, including several of the mentionable moments I referred to in the last post:

This is a giant turtle made entirely out of old wheel hubs. It’s in Dunsieth, ND and was fun to see – I used to drive past it almost every weekend going from Minot, ND to Winnipeg to visit Renee when we were engaged back in 2000.

This was the view from our camp site at the KOA just a mile a way from the East Entrance to Glacier National Park.

Here we are in Glacier national Park. It was so amazingly breathtaking.

The only way to really try to capture it somewhat was to put some panoramic photos together. I did about 10 of them overall, and they turned out quite well. Some of them had as many as 20 individual images in them. Here’s one below composed from about 8 images. The original versions are well over a giga-pixel each. That is snow in the bottom of the frame. We found out later from other campers that just a week before we got there, the road through Glacier was still closed because of the snow. It had only started melting in earnest shortly before we visited. What a blessing that it was open when we were there!

These mountain goats came right up to me and asked if I’d be willing to do a photo shoot with them. They got really close… I probably took 200 shots of them all together. What a treat!

And here’s that crazy hail storm that ran into us on our first day of travel after we left the KOA and Glacier.

Check out the grape-size hail stones! Biggest I’ve ever seen. These pelted us for a good 10 minutes. It was intense, and a fantastically awesome thing to experience.

And of course – the tire incident. I wasn’t kidding – it literally exploded.

There! That’s better… It was a long hard journey from Winnipeg to the West Coast. By the time we got here, late, tired, and road-weary part of me was ready to be done driving for a long while, and I wasn’t looking forward to thinking about the next leg(s) of the journey. But then… we finally went to bed after setting up the trailer… and I woke up to this:

This is our site right on the river. I stepped out the next morning to the sound of baby birds chirping in a birdhouse mounted on that tree right outside our door. The sounds of the river. The smell of the ocean and the evergreen hills. And all the travel-weariness slipped away in an instant. We’ve been having adventures all up and down the coast, and our time at this site is drawing to a close. In a couple more days we’ll join my parents and brother, and sister and her family just up the coast at a beach house for the week.

And I have a ton of coast pictures to share… and a crazy adventure that I went on this morning… but that’s all I’ll say about that – you know, have to keep some suspense to keep the readers coming back.

We’re settled in here south of Lincoln City, OR – nestled in a valley that doesn’t have cell coverage (hence no internet), but offers instead a constant supply of beauty: evergreen-covered hills shrouded in foggy serenity, a vibrant-green river behind our home on wheels, mist from time to time for good measure, old soul trees blanketed in moss… almost enough to stave off the connection withdrawals. I’m posting this from the library in town. We’ve just finished our laundry and the kids are restless to leave, so I will have to keep it short.

Our trip from Minot, ND to Lincoln City, OR was the most adventurous yet.

• Spent a few days soaking in the splendor of Glacier National Park… you should see the photos I got… I will have to post some if I remember to bring my photo disk drive with me sometime when I surface to get a connection.
• North of Augusta, MT I pulled over to try to get some shots of an amazing lightening storm not too far to the west. Barely minutes after stopping, the massive storm blew our way and right through our location, pelting us with grape-sized hail… biggest I think I’ve ever been in. We were broadsided by the assault and I felt like looking for the cannons to return fire. Thankfully, the “historic site” pull-over we had taken had a huge hanging sign etched with the story of the place that shielded a section of our trailer. But the exposed portion of our rolled up awning got a bit shredded… still, nothing that a roll of white duct tape couldn’t cure later on.
• Then, at an intersection an hour north of Helena, MT and 45 minutes east of Lincoln, MT we had to make a decision about which way to go with very little info… West was risky – possible crazy mountains and back hi-ways. South went to bigger interstates and cities, but was a far longer route. We decided to go West and had a couple major climbs, stopping at one point to let the line behind us pass while we cooled down, but ultimately we were glad we did it. It was a gorgeous drive and put us way ahead of schedule, getting into Missoula, MT late that evening.
• On the last day of travel, home stretch, finish-line practically in sight, things got really interesting. Driving down the very scenic I-84 along the Columbia River just 10 miles east of Arlington, OR we ran over some kind of metal chunk that I totally didn’t see and our rear, passenger tire on the truck exploded. I’m not exaggerating. I know about the metal chunk because one of those hi-way safety vehicle came up behind us a few minutes later and the driver told me he had just picked it up off the road a few hundred feet back. So, with the trailer practically resting against the guardrail, and just enough room to fit beside the narrower truck, I changed the shredded rubber with our spare. Took a while… thankfully, the safety worker stayed behind us with his blinkers going and then led us into town down the road to a tire shop. We got two new rear tires (for now – though I would have bought a whole set if they had them… I love these new tires, about the best you can get, aggressive grip, 10-ply, best all-round road / gravel / rain tires you can find and very affordable)… and there was a post office in town so we took care of our Correction to Change of Address since that was going to my sister’s who has now also moved… and replaced a fuse I needed at the ACE Hardware across the street from the post office… and several hours later back on the road.
• Had to stop one more time as we started swaying all over the road from the wind (I-84 hills are riddled with wind turbines which should give you an idea) to slap on our sway-control-bar (normally I leave it off because it hasn’t been too bad without it up until now and I prefer the extra maneuverability).
• All told, that put us arriving at 10pm local time at our campground when it should have been like 4 or 5pm. But we made it. And are loving it.

I’ll have to get some of those photos from the adventure posted here… there are some reall great ones. Check back over the next few days – I’ll update this post with them… or maybe just do a new post with a bunch. We’ll see.

How many of you can say that you had the chance later on in life to meet the doctor who delivered you when you were born? Maybe there are more of you than I’d guess, but I certainly can’t. Well, today in a cool turn of events it worked out for Bennah (who just turned 8 a week ago) to meet the doctor that delivered him.

We got a good start departing Winnipeg this morning and got into Minot, ND with plenty of time to swing by the hospital where Bennah was born. We were just going to show the kids the building, but on a whim, I thought – what if Dr. A. F. is still working there? So, I went inside, picked up the phone labeled “Information” and asked the nice lady at the other end. Sure enough! And she forwarded me to OB to check on his availability. So, after 8 years and 4 more children, we got a chance to say hi to the kind gentlemen who helped us with our firstborn. Crazy. And of course, he remembered us too… well, our situation was rather unique afterall – Renee on bed rest for 5 months of the pregnancy, and our request for an 8th-day circumcision, and several other unique things about our story, but I’ll leave it at that.

Then, we went past our old apartment (the second floor of an old house and probably the most favorite place we ever lived… tied with the last house in Alexandria, VA maybe… of course, current “home” notwithstanding, which doesn’t count because it’s way too awesome to even be compared)… anyway, it’s still there and it looks exactly like it did the day we left. Same colors – everything. After 8 years.

Of course, the Wal-Mart in town has moved and been upgraded to a Super Center; picked up some necessary road supplies… but the Sammy’s is still here and pretty much all our original favorite places are intact. Both thrift stores. The coffee shop / used book store. The photolab Renee worked at for a while. Etc. Talk about memory lane. It was so much fun to share this all with our kids, even though they probably just wanted to get out and run around and squirt each other with the new water guns from Wal-Mart…

And as for Bennah – I’m sure he just wanted to try out his new bike seat. He just learned how to ride a bike. On literally his second try. And some friends blessed us with an awesome bike for him (they had extras) but it needed a new seat. Up until today he’s been riding it around the campground with a shoe over the post to act as a seat. After he took a few spins around the Roughrider Campground where we’re parked now in Minot, he said he actually likes the shoe better. But he never actually sat on it I don’t think. His bony bum isn’t very comfortable on the new seat that he can actually sit on… but he’ll get used to it.

Long day of driving tomorrow and I should have been in bed a while ago. But this had to get captured. It was another great day.

5 more days. The many weeks we’ve been here now seem a blur but every moment spent with family and friends have been so precious and meaningful. Wonderful, wonderful adventures and conversations and moments where time just stops and you step out of the picture and look upon it as an everlasting gift.

One of those moments happened today as I stood on a cobblestone walkway beside the Assiniboine river and waved to  Andrew, Bennah, Reayah, Zach, Jaiden and Grandpa as they slowly paddled down to meet me. I had left them about 2 hours before, where the river ran through Assiniboine park by the zoo and had done some grocery shopping with Joyzers before meeting up with them again at the Forks. Someone had to meet them downstream so they didn’t have to paddle all the way back again against the current. 🙂

The kids were quiet and content and a little sun burnt. They locked up the canoe, then we had a quick picnic lunch under some shade and watched a guy parkour-ing or free running. Andrew still wanted to get some work done, so we left soon after. We dropped off Grandpa back at the zoo where his truck was, then he drove back to the Forks to pick up the canoe and we went home.

The Race Project… OE21G… Adventuring… it has many working titles at the moment. The short version goes like this:

For nearly a decade now, one of my close brothers (of which I have many among my spiritual family) has been teaching an Outdoor Adventuring course at a private, faith-based school in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Incorporating the necessary provincial requirements, the course qualifies as phys ed credit for the students and teaches them fundamental survival skills like navigation, fire building, shelter making, team dynamics, etc. They spend a lot of time during the year practicing what they learn. They go hiking and camping in a remote area during the Fall Camping Trip. They build quinzhees and spend a night in sub-freezing temperatures on the Winter Camping Trip. And the year is peppered with biking trips, obstacle runs, urban night hikes, and the like. At the end of the year they have a final written exam and a final practical exam.

The practical exam has evolved over the years, but it has always been modeled after the fine tradition of adventure racing (e.g. Eco-Challenge). The amazing part is that these are 9th, 10th, sometimes 11th grade students completing roughly 100 km / 62 miles entirely self-powered (on foot and bike) during a 36 hour period; including a campcraft phase during which they have to build and sleep in their own tarp shelters. Held at the beginning of June each year in Canada, temperatures can still hover close to freezing. Each student team races against each other and against a veteran team (Bravo) that ran the race as students themselves several years ago and has been coming back for the fun of it since then. They have to navigate their way through roughly 30 checkpoints armed with their compasses, cardinal-based riddle-like instructions, and an appreciation (usually begrudging) for their instructor’s sense of humor. The checkpoints take them through a surprising variety of terrain from urban environments and open road, to bush-whacking through provincial parks, across muddy landscapes, and wading (or swimming) through river-like flood-ways. These are just some of the challenges they face. In addition, the instructor placed several handicaps on team Bravo this year to even the playing field as much as possible (for example, they had two 90 minute penalties, an additional checkpoint, and found all their bikes disassembled at one of the transition points).

A while back another close brother of mine and I got it in our heads that this course (and all the real, bigger than life characters that surround it) would make an excellent documentary. So, for the last year and a half we’ve been exploring how to pull it all together into a coherent project. Part of the exploration has offered me the privilege of chasing the teams through the course in 2008 and 2009 grabbing as much footage and photography as I can on the run.

I’m really cutting my teeth on any semblance of video experience through the exercise and pushing my photography skills as well. One exciting thing for me personally, as I wade through all the material that I collected at this year’s race just over a week ago, is that I am noticing a huge improvement in both the footage and the photos. I think a big factor in this is that I was here ahead of time, which made it possible to help the instructor set up the course. I knew were every single checkpoint was and (more or less) how the teams would approach and leave. Also, having gone through the whole experience last year, I had a subconscious working model that helped me anticipate where great clips or shots might be likely to emerge.

In all this, though, I know that there is a bigger story to tell, and it almost seems murkier now with 2-years-worth of solid coverage. Each class and each year has its own independent theme tying everything together for that particular group of students. Start adding the years together, however, to define something as big as the overall course, and the story-telling challenge grows exponentially with each additional year considered. One area that is significantly lacking in our coverage are the background stories of the students themselves – their families – their other interests – and the events that shape them throughout the whole year in the class. Now that we’re mobile, I’m hoping that we can start to fill in a lot of the gaps.

One thing that bears mention, and I saw this emphasized for me personally this year in a profound way: the efforts and sacrifice of the support teams that make this race and the course itself possible are immeasurable. Renee and the kids supported me being away for several long evenings while we were setting up the course, and then they followed me / drove me around / rode around in the truck for two days straight while I chased the shots. The instructor’s family supports him in similar ways throughout the entire year. And the parents of the students entrust them to a very worthwhile course that has very real dangers. Bennah, my oldest son, also helped take some excellent photos at times and places that I simply couldn’t be all at once. Seeing all of that in a new way this year really impressed on me the desire to make this a significant stream in the documentary’s storyline.

Here are a few of the photos I took from that amazing weekend adventure (see link below for a gallery of many more photos from the 2009 race with details of this year’s story in all the captions):

Here’s a gallery of photos from the 2009 race. [NOTE: The 2008 and 2009 Exam Race galleries are password protected out of respect for the student’s privacy. You can email me for the access codes, or get them from Mr. Dave directly.]

Other fun / related resources:
Here is a Google map of the whole course for 2009.
Here are some of the photos from the 2008 race.

I know things have been a bit quiet around here… and as you might guess – that’s because life has been everything but. Here are some of the highlights from the last couple weeks (not necessarily in chronological order):

• I smoked my first bona fide Cuban cigar and sipped superb home-made wine while hanging out with good friends after a delectable BBQ in their back yard one perfect weekend evening
• Renee and the kids loaned me out for a couple weeks to the Race Project (more on that in a bit)
• We enjoyed a few evenings that were finally warm enough to sit around the camp fire
• There was the epic shopping trip that started out as a Zach / daddy date but turned into the other kids (except Joy) coming along because Zach is such a generous guy he invited them too (he misses them when he does stuff by himself)… of course upon arrival at the store I discovered that my wallet had schemed against me and left itself back at the trailer… and the store doesn’t take checks… but thankfully I was able to scrounge some U.S. cash from my grab & go pack, which they were more than happy to take… trust me, even a horrible exchange rate loss is worth avoiding a full-reset and start-over on a shopping trip with 4 kids.
• We met grandpa at The Forks and invaded the wonderful children’s museum there, wrapping up with peanuts, gyros, and tips to the buskers (street musicians)
• And, among other things, we hoisted the anchors and unfurled the sails and relocated the trailer to be in position for the Race Project.

My conscience has been bothering me for years about my boots. They are big and bulky. Heavy. Probably made in China by grossly underpaid and mistreated workers. I’m sure none of the materials are from recycled sources. And when I walk in them… to think of the scars they leave on the land: the crushed grass, the ruined flowers, the shattered twigs, and the horrendous indentations in dirt and mud alike! Oh the shame. They have no soul… I mean sole left (well, I’ve had them for years and years after all).

No longer!

I am now clad in the closest thing to my own two bare feet that can still get me past those dastardly “no shirt, no shoes, no service” signs! I am as silent as a ninja. I bend scarcely a blade of grass when I glide across the land. It’s marvelous – rocks and sticks practically roll out of the way when I step so that the bare earth can cup my friendly feet. I am wearing Vibram FiveFingers where ever I go now.

These are the most amazing invention of the 21st century. Hands down. Or, feet down as it were. I recommend them without reservation. Unless, of course, you are the kind of person who prefers to check your toes into a normal 5-star shoe resort, letting them bask in a jacuzzi, sip rum and cokes, get pedicures and their hair styled, and sunbathe under the kind of arch support that could suspend the Golden Gate Bridge while pounding heals and knees against asphalt… well, then in that case these marvels of modern technology will not really interest you.

However, if you are anything like me and would much rather feel the mud between your toes, the general texture of each rock – sharp or smooth – on your arches (think reflexology, not coal walking), the water from creeks and streams flowing in and over and through and leaving your footwear, the soft ground soft, the hard ground hard, the steep inclines stable with 10 points of contact instead of 2, the climbing effortless (trees, rocks, and other obstacles like tall buildings), and the land itself – the terrain – the feedback from every chunk of 12 inch ground contacted and passed at a time… then you too would be in a blissful state of trekking paradise in these foot-gloves.

My one main concern was breatheability… Actually, I’d prefer to be barefoot 100% of the time. In fact, but for the aforementioned prejudicial policy many commercial facilities insist on maintaining – and for the tendency of terrain that I like exploring to be more impervious than my own skin – I would be barefoot all the time. In fact, my feet can manage to sweat in flip-flops, so breatheability was a top priority. In this and every other respect the Vibram KSOs have performed flawlessly.

This past week I’ve been helping set-up a 100 Km adventure race course across urban and wilderness environments. With my predisposition for barefooting I experienced practically zero break-in time for these “shoes” and found the course set-up to be the perfect excuse to put them to the test. I have walked, run, climbed, waded, and sparred across pavement, grass, railroad tracks, gravel (large and small), creeks, trails, swamps, forests, mud pits, rivers, trees, rocks, streets, churches, malls, restaurants, basketball courts, and more.

My feet were initially delightfully sore in the way that only using forgotten muscles regularly again can achieve. No blisters. No raw spots. It was as if my feet grew an impervious second sole. There, now I’ve used impervious twice in one post. Your mileage may vary. So far, only two complaints – they were slightly chilly wet in 45 F temp at night. But certainly not as cold as barefeet I suppose. The other problem that is likely not solvable by anyone or any footwear: I managed to stink them up in one week of swamp tromping despite the space-age-antimicrobial-odor-suppressing imbuement the soles are supposed to bear… washing them twice (once by hand and once in the laundry) didn’t even cure them. But I suspect a good soaking in miracle soap would.

So, all that said, I am ready for the course! I will be traveling much more light-footed this year while I’m shooting video and photos for the race, shadowing the student teams as they self-propel their way through the final challenge of the year. And I must close this by saying THANK YOU BEN for barefooting with me and for sending me the Vibram info years ago (it seems like years anyway). I certainly did not forget about it.