Week 2, Part 4: Montana!

After leaving Smelterville, Idaho, we drove 332 miles to Bozeman, Montana, stopping in Missoula for lunch. I was kind of anxious about going to Montana, because it was a place I'd always daydreamed about visiting and maybe moving to someday. I guess you could say I had high expectations of Montana. After four years living in far West Texas (Marfa), I'd fallen in love with wide open spaces and had been wondering about Montana for some time as another place I might fall in love with. It was sort of like the nervousness one gets before a blind date that a friend has set you up with and talked up. I remember sitting in Marfa, Texas in 2006, talking to a guy who was working in Marfa for the summer who lived in Livingston, Montana, and he told me all about Livingston and it seemed to me that it had a lot of the things I loved about Marfa and a lot of things I missed while living in what had started to feel like a too-small town. Livingston is about 40 minutes from Bozeman, where we were to spend the next three days. 

On the edge of Bozeman

However, I was so exhausted from the first twelve days of traveling and the fullness of the socializing, that when we got to the room we arranged to rent through Airbnb (www.airbnb.com) from a wonderful couple, Natalia and Narayan, I plopped down in our private little backyard under a cherry tree giving fruit, ate supper with Larry, and announced that I might spend the next three days in that beautiful, private, peaceful backyard. I can't say enough good things about our simple private room--it was affordable, Narayan and Natalia texted us often with great recommendations for places to see and things to do, I totally recommend their room if you ever find yourself in Bozeman. 

Narayan and Natalia's backyard with Chaif, one of their dogs

The next morning, though, I did manage to venture out--and am so glad I did. Bozeman, a small university town, with a population of about 38,000 people has a thriving Main Street, at least a dozen independent coffee houses, at least two independent book stores, a record store, tons of boutique shops, and many great restaurants. We aren't really shoppers, and with a fully loaded truck with our provisions for all four seasons and my Sweetie Pie gear, we can't afford to become so on this trip, so I can't speak much about the shopping opportunities in Bozeman, except they looked ample and diverse. I was thinking about the city of Merced, and have been, a lot on this trip, as I drive through towns with more established universities than UC Merced and wonder what makes the difference between the economic vitality of these--sometimes much smaller--cities, than Merced. I think there's a kind of confidence and a lack of fear of competition, that attracts diversity. Each coffee shop had its own character, attracting a different type of clientele, thus, people from all different backgrounds and interests might feel welcome in Bozeman. On Friday night, there was a Talking Heads Tribute band playing at the local VFW Hall, but there was live music playing at several other venues as well. Saturday night there was an open Contra Dance with a lesson before the dancing.

Near downtown Bozeman, on the way to Artwalk

Friday night was an Artwalk on Main Street, not dissimilar to the Art Hop that Merced hosts four times a year, but this happens monthly in Bozeman.

Somewhat grumpy dog to match somewhat grumpy owner of Vargo's Jazz City & Books on Main Street

We quickly found that Bozeman was as dog-friendly as it boasts--several stores on Main Street have resident dogs and there's seven off-leash parks in the city limits. Our hosts had two great dogs, Java and Chaif, that greeted us happily when we first arrived and said goodbye with plenty of whining.

Chaif pretending not to jump on Larry

We spent half a day in Livingston, and I wasn't as in love with it as I hoped to be. There was a little too much tourism for me, being about an hour from the entrance of Yellowstone and looking a little like a Western-town theme park. Still, the people seemed super nice. We didn't drive down to Yellowstone because we simply didn't think we'd have enough time to see any of it on this short trip and felt we needed a whole week just for Yellowstone.

Just another Montana sky

I hardly took any photos of the Montana landscape because it just felt too vast to capture in photos and the landscape looked just like the hundreds of photos one has seen of Montana. It's breathtakingly gorgeous. The outskirts of Bozeman and most of the rest of the lightly-populated state are peppered with ranch homes surrounded by land, with rivers running through there and there and mountains. The sky is big--though not quite as big as the sky in West Texas. Bozeman did feel like a place I could call home. And we decided, during some of the year that is not yet scheduled, that we'd like to spend a month or more back there, so we could really enjoy the down to earth people and beauty of the town.

Now that we are in mobile mode, as much as I loved Bozeman, I was ready to head on to South Dakota on Sunday morning, so we got up early, ate breakfast, and packed the car to head to our next destination--but there was still a lot of Montana ahead of us--many miles of reservations and herds of pronghorn were in front of this. But before that, we stopped to make a purchase in Billings (there's no sales tax in Montana), and came across a dog rescue organization that specializes in rescuing dogs from surrounding reservations (http://rezdogrescue.weebly.com) that had a puppy adoption event outside the local PetSmart. I fell in love with a particularly friendly puppy and had to pull myself away so we could head on toward South Dakota.

We took a shortcut off the 90 onto the 212 and ended up driving through the Cheyenne Tribe. Larry noticed the houses all looked the same, and small, and that woke us up to being on a reservation. When we stopped for gas in Lame Deer, we saw several dogs running around the area--all looking well fed, but not fenced in--and plenty of evidence of the poverty on the reservation. We felt saddened--and frustrated, not knowing what we could do. I guess that might be something we can ponder as we continue driving across this country and seeing the variety of lifestyles and reconsider our own life purpose on this trip.

Week 2, Part 3: Coeur d'Alene and Smelterville, Idaho

Coeur d'Alene Lake

Our next planned stop after Washington was Montana, but we knew we couldn't drive that far in a day, so we started looking at where we might stop between Seattle and Montana. I found out, through the magic of Facebook, another schoolmate from my high school theater days lives in Northern Idaho. Dolores and I were in "Midsummer Night's Dream" together our senior year--she was an awesome, funny, and beautiful Helena. Besides having great acting chops, Dolores danced and sang the lead in the musical, which I was too scared to audition for. I also remembered she'd called down some guys who were teasing me to cool it, standing up for me right before I might've fallen to tears, I as I did pretty easily in those days. We'd never been close friends in high school, but had been friendly enough on Facebook of late for me to book a room in Coeur d'Alene, which I thought was near her, and to nervously ask if she'd have time to meet. She surprised me by inviting us to stay in her and her husband's John's travel trailer. We gratefully accepted what turned out to be wonderfully sweet accommodations, the best BBQ'd steak dinner we'd had in ages, a lovely time catching up and remembering, and, because our time was limited, a too-short tour of Silver Valley sights.

Sunshine Mine Disaster Memorial

A mining community, the Silver Valley of Idaho is a mixed bag--there are depressed areas and signs of wear in the buildings and on the land, but the landscape is also gorgeous, studded with new-growth pine trees.  After a stop at Coeur d'Alene Lake on the way, we drove through Smelterville and up the hill to Dolores and John's cute blue house that opens to a green backyard and a sloping hill of trees. They'd just built a new deck off their blue metal shop, where we ate dinner, talked, and let night fall upon us. Larry was happy to be reminded, by the hunting and fishing culture, of his high school years in Yale, Michigan. And when we got a tour of the shop, which boasted a trophy wall from John and Dolores' game hunting, Larry shared that his high school history teacher was the Yale taxidermist. Dolores had joked on Facebook that she wondered what I'd think of the hillbilly she'd become, but I looked at the peacefulness of the landscape, the close connection she had developed to the land, the love she and John obviously shared, and the generosity with which they hosted us, and felt nothing but admiration for the person she has grown into. We'd both admitted we were nervous about seeing each other after all this time, but I was quickly comforted by her warm hospitality as well as by the history we shared. She reminded me of a scene I'd performed in drama class that had slipped my mind over the years, and I was grateful for the memory. Though I was an emotional disaster in high school, being able to connect with Dolores, as well as others from high school, has helped heal my past. 

Sunshine Mine Disaster Memorial

After a delicious dessert of homemade (and hard-won, as the berries were hand picked in the mountains above their house) huckleberry bars, Larry and I went to bed early again, and exhausted from travel, slept for what seemed like forever on a heavenly mattress before getting up for a short tour of some Silver Valley history. We decided we wanted to see the Sunshine Mine Disaster Memorial. The disaster happened in 1972, when 93 miners lost their lives to fire in the mine. It was a moving testament to the labor and loss of the mining community. 

Mission, Interior

Then we visited the oldest standing building in Idaho, the Cataldo Mission, which surprised me by being so different from the West Coast Missions I visited in my youth. It was grand and beautiful. We walked the grounds a bit. Then Dolores took us to the local Rails to Trails path, where you can ride, by bicycle, the whole 88 mile width of Northern Idaho on a former railroad path. Due to time constraints, we passed on the Old Bordello Museum as well as several other historic sights. We also missed, due to it being the off season, a chance to ride on the longest single suspension gondola at Silver Mountain Resort. The Silver Valley has such a rich history and is such an interesting combination of resorts with golf courses and down to earth people, that we know we have to spend some more time there, in a part of the country we hadn't really known about before this trip. I'm feeling grateful that the chance to visit with my high school acquaintance ended up teaching me so much about this country. 

Dawn and Dolores on her deck

Larry has also been excited about all the dogs we've met on this trip--and here he is with Dolores and John's Chocolate Lab Kody, who he had to have a photo with before we said our goodbyes and spent the day driving to Bozeman, Montana, which boasts to be one of the most dog-friendly cities in the country.

Larry and Kody

Week 2, Part 2: Edmonds & Seattle, Washington

Edmonds

On Monday around noon, we took the ferry from Kingston to Edmonds, where we'd spend the next twenty four hours with Larry's Aunt Stefani and Uncle George. Stefani and George have been married for over 50 years and  lived for years in San Francisco, Stefani directing plays at the San Francisco Actor's Ensemble and George worked as an editor at Bancroft Whitney. They retired some years ago to Vashon Island, Washington, but as they got a bit older, decided to simplify their life with a condo in Edmonds. Both Stefani and George are actors, and George discovered Edmonds while acting in an episode of the short-lived remake of the television series, "The Fugitive."

Edmonds is a beautiful, quaint port town, with a sweet downtown shopping area and a beautiful boardwalk and fishing pier. They started us with a walking tour of downtown pointing out the independent bookstore, the independent coffee house, the Starbucks they boycott, and several other boutiques and tourist shops, including Rick Steve's Travel headquarters.

In the afternoon, George drove us up to the Boeing Plant and Museum, giving us a chance to get a feel for the surrounding area and where we saw the massive planes.

After one of Stefani's famous home-cooked meals, we drove down to the boardwalk, and walked down the pier and out to Brackett's landing while the sun slowly fell in the sky. I got a chance to get to know Stefani and George a little, to hear about some of their theater and film projects over the years and about Stefani's continued work at the Edmonds Senior Center, where she teaches a local reader's theater class. The next day, they showed me YouTube videos of commercials they've been in--Stefani did one for the Washington State Lottery and George one for York Peppermint Patty. Both were hilarious and it was awesome to see them at work.

After a morning cup of coffee at Cafe Louvre, we bought some postcards and then headed back to their condo for a send-off lunch. I felt so grateful for their attentive hospitality and the invigorating conversation. Saying our goodbyes, we headed down to my first visit to Seattle.

Seattle

Though I've spent a fair amount of time in Port Townsend, the San Juan Islands, and Whidbey Island in Washington and have flown into the Seattle-Tacoma airport a few times, I've never spent any time in Seattle itself and was curious.  There are three people I know for sure who live in Seattle--Apis Malifera, a young singer-songwriter originally from Mariposa, California who I interviewed for Radio Merced about a year ago; Jose Guzman, who works in IT at the University of Washington and who was a student of mine my first year teaching at UC Merced, and Danielle Watts, a former student-turned-friend who was in my creative writing classes at Sul Ross University back when I lived in far West Texas. I set up to meet each of them on Tuesday night while Larry was looking forward to expanding his baseball stadium experience with a visit to Safeco Field and a Mariners-Astros game.

I met Apis downtown on First Street at a cool cafe called Ancient Grounds, where I had a chance to hear about her continuing work as a writer and singer-songwriter, and her life in Seattle. She works in an ice cream store called Full Tilt, which has four stores in the Seattle Area, most of which include pinball arcades and are known for their unusual flavors, rotating flavors such as peanut butter-bacon-chocolate. For more on Full Tilt, check out their website: http://fulltilticecream.com/about/    We talked, too, about how cities or towns absorb people, take care of them when they are meant to be there, by both fulfilling them socially and creatively as well as helping them find work and housing. I definitely have watched that happen to my sister in the Hood River, Oregon area and to others along the way.

Moving around the corner to the Pike Place neighborhood, I settled in a Seattle Coffee Works, meeting with Jose, who was on a bus stopover on his way home from work. I loved talking to him about his hopes and dreams, and especially loved the chance to have Apis and him connect so that he could get plugged into a more artsy community than he's had access to in Seattle thus far.

Finally, Danielle, who I hadn't seen for seven years, since I left West Texas, swooped me up and took me to dinner at Uneeda Burger in the cool Fremont District. We had a great time catching up, and I loved hearing about her different jobs and work with nonprofit support and educational organizations. While Larry was watching the Mariners lose by a landslide to the Astros in the beautiful ballpark, Danielle drove me up a hill where there's a place visitors and locals flock to watch the skyline of Seattle. It's especially great to watch from that vantage at dusk as the city turns to twinkling lights. I'd, of course, seen postcards and photos of the Seattle skyline, with the strange architecture of the Space Needle marking it, but as I turned the corner and came into full view from that height, my jaw dropped and I felt moved by the beauty of the sight, so much so, I felt like I was almost going to weep. I never thought a city skyline view would make me weep, but there you have it. I was quieted and humbled by the sight.

The next morning, we'd begin our long journey across Eastern Washington, where we'd stop in the college town of Ellensburg of Washington, to eat our lunch (which has typically become slices of a loaf of locally baked artisan bread, sliced tomatoes, and cheese or hummus) on the lawn in front of Central Washington University. Ellensburg has a population of about 18,000, but about 8000 of those people are students who are only there during the school year. It has small town charm with a feeling of vitality and lots of character. Our bread came from the small but wonderful Vinman's bakery, right across from the entrance to the university: http://www.vinmansbakery.com

After lunch, we went onward! To Smelterville, Idaho!

Week 2, Part 1: Hood River, Oregon to Mats Mats Bay, Washington

We've just landed in Bozeman, Montana, after a week packed with wonderful travels and visits with friends and family. We'll be hunkering down here in an Airbnb room for three nights and look forward to enjoying picnicking in the backyard under a cherry tree and checking out downtown Bozeman as well as the smaller town of Livingston, just fifteen minutes away. Thundershowers are expected the next two days, a welcome reprieve from the unseasonable heat that has followed us on this journey. We experienced so much in the last week, that I'll have to write this week in three blog posts, the other two will come tomorrow. Here's Hood River and Mats Mats Bay:

Last notes on Hood River: 

Tomatoes from the Hood River Farmer's Market

Potato plants at the Klahre House garden

My sister, Maya Trook, at the Klahre House garden

On the last full day at my sister Maya's house in Mosier, Oregon, I had the chance to spend an hour with her at her job. She works as a teacher and runs garden classes for the Klahre House School in Oregon, a program for at-risk youth. Klahre House is an alternative school, where youth from all over the state can come as an alternative to a detention facility. They are placed with specially trained foster parents in the Hood River area and spend their days at Klahre House, in classes of about six students each, learning typical curriculum taught by progressive teachers and attending process groups. I was there for a garden class, which started with each of the students, the two teachers, as well as me, the visitor, doing a check in about how we were doing, feeling, and what our goals were for the day. Then we drove the van to the two garden plots to introduce these outdoor classrooms to the new students and to harvest some of the crops the students had planted the previous term. I heard new students saying, "I think I'm going to like this class." I saw the pride in the seasoned students showing off and harvesting their tomatoes, red bell peppers, and corn. I watched the wonder as my sister started stripping corn and and eating it raw in the garden. The students followed suit. I watched my sister be able to bring the group to silence when they were excitedly talking and joking with each other by simply asking for, "A moment of silence, please." I felt moved and inspired by the whole thing. 

I left Klahre House to drive up to Sakura Ridge, a bed and breakfast and pear and sheep farm: http://sakuraridge.com

I met John and Deanna Joyer, owners and managers of the operation. John took me on a tour of the lodge and showed me the grounds, introducing me to his sheep. A lovely couple and beautiful location, I plan to go back to Sakura Ridge at another time to film a webisode for Sweetie Pie on the Farm. 

On Saturday at noon, we drove away, full and rested, with every intention of returning to Hood River sometime over the next year. 

Mats Mats Bay

Our next stop was to Larry's cousin's house in Vancouver, Washington, where we took a driving break on our way to the Olympic Peninsula and sat and visited with his cousin Cory and her husband, Steve. Then we started up to Mats Mats Bay, which ended up taking us far longer then we expected. The green woods grew darker and we winded our way down a gravel road to a large metal barn, where a theater colleague from high school, Tami, and her husband  John live, right on the water, with their lively and lovely eight year old daughter and spunky Weimaraner dog. 

We've been sleeping a lot on this trip, as traveling is proving more exhausting than we anticipated, so we went to bed early that evening, after touring their house and being tucked into a sweet little studio apartment with a loft area built out in a corner of the barn. Larry said, of our quiet, private and unusual accommodations, "I've never seen anything like this," in a delighted tone of voice. And we continued our discussion of how this trip is helping us re-imagine ways to live. We slept long through the quiet, dark night. 

In the morning, Larry didn't even realize he was looking at the bay because the air was so still that the dense trees were reflected in the water, doubling the foliage. Before we knew it, we ran into John, and he suggested if we hurry we could beat the tide and take the kayak out. He quickly brought us lifejackets, baled out the kayak, and pointed us toward the channel, and our determination to hole up and nap all day was quickly and gladly deferred by our short kayak voyage. We saw loads of Great Blue Herons, a Kingfisher, and, when we got to the mouth of the Puget Sound, a seal and some porpoise--quite a good outing for an hour long trip. Later, we walked the dog around the neighborhood and drove into my favorite town in the country, Port Townsend, for a quick tour at dusk, before coming back to Mats Mats for another long rest before heading out in the morning. It was too short a stay, and we definitely felt, as John had warned, that the rest of our trip would be downhill from there. The quiet, the magic, the unusual but perfect quarters, and the wonderful hosts. We love the Olympic Peninsula! 

Oregon

We left San Francisco on September 1st, the day after a lovely gathering of friends came to our house for a send-off luncheon. This open house event definitely made me  feel that I have strong community in San Francisco that both buoys me into our adventure as well as gives me a sense of rootedness as I'm now living an uprooted life. We stopped for lunch with one of my oldest friends, Mira, and her family, on their new rural property in Herald, California. Then we spent our first night in Redding with a dear friend, Colleen, and her family. Well fed and rested, we were sent on our way with much joyfulness. And Colleen gave me a haircut, which always signals for me a fresh start. 

Our second night we camped in Crater Lake National Park under fir trees and more stars than I've seen in years. Then we made our way to the Hood River area of Oregon where we have the luxury of settling in for several days with my sister in her new lovely home that overlooks the Columbia River. My sister moved to the Hood River area from Portland several years ago when she took up organic farming. Now she runs a garden program and teaches at a school for at-risk youth. It's so lovely to finally get a chance to see her bit of paradise and get a feel for her close-knit community, a community that has held her and supported her through thick and thin. 

We filmed our first "Sweetie Pie on the Farm" episode and had a wonderful experience cooking in the kitchen of a local asparagus farmer, Candace Smith, who helped us make her apple crisp recipe and then took us to the Kiyokawa Orchard down the street, where they grow countless varieties of apples. We're learning a lot about using our video equipment and I'm still trying to develop the character of Sweetie Pie. Hopefully by the end of the trip, we'll have a good handle on both. Here's an outtake from the shoot: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K3NuS-FvpD4&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Happy to continue to be blessed with many animals in our lives, we're sharing our time in Hood River with my sister's dog Anabelle and her housemate's dog (pictured below), Oakie. Tonight, we'll go to the local farmer's market and Friday night, I'm probably most excited about the giant Rock, Paper, Scissors contest in downtown Hood River. 

Saturday, we head to Vancouver and Seattle, WA, to visit with Larry's family before heading for a night or two to the Olympic Peninsula. Thanks for being a part of our journey. 

Project Runaway

In five days, Larry and I will load the back of a Ford Ranger with everything we think we might need over the next eleven months, climb in the truck, and drive, spending a slow three months touring the country, staying with friends and family, camping, and renting out rooms from strangers through Airbnb. We want to experience new landscapes and communities, share our favorite places with each other, and re-visit the towns where we grew up. After a few months, we'll look for places we can land for longer stretches, so we can pick up some work and I can write. To this end, we've registered on a housesitting website, and our first housesitting gig is in the tiny village of Clam Lake, Wisconsin. We'll be staying there January 15-April 1, learning to snowshoe and ice fish. We'll be hoping to spend some time near my aunt in West Texas from April to July, but are staying open to the whims of the world.

How did this plan get hatched? Well, there were many reasons we both wanted to make a change at this time, but I think the idea is best summed up by a small interaction we had some months ago. In a bout of fear and overwhelment--over what I don't remember, maybe work, trying to earn a living, childhood issues I can't altogether shake, fear of living in a world ruled by the monsters of banks and corporations--I said, like a little girl, "I think I should just run away." And Larry said, "If you run away, you have to take me with you."

Of course, I know there's no running away from our histories or most of the pressures of the world, but I began to consider what might happen if I lived in faith, stopped living in fear, started to disentangle myself from a daily routine. Don't get me wrong, I love my life in San Francisco. And I had a great routine in Merced, where I lived and worked for the past five years, as well. I've been blessed with many friends, purposeful work, great fellowship, and many invigorating creative projects. This new project, the project of running away, is really a project of running towards--running towards greater closeness in my relationship with Larry, running back to see old family and friends, running deep (through the winter in Wisconsin) into a memoir writing project that will force me to look at the childhood issues that still trouble me, and running towards small farms and food production initiatives across the country that I will visit as my alter-ego, Sweetie Pie--a baker who teaches science to children through cooking demonstrations. There's so much land in this land, so many people I miss, and so many more depths to explore, and I hope unhooking from the dailiness of my world will help me find a fuller sense of me.