One year? There hasn’t been another in my life that passed half as quick. I arrived in Germany last October and find myself again surrounded by changing leaves, autumnal air, low-lying sunshine, the full effects of fall in northern latitudes. A nice place to be in moments of mindful presence. Elusive as they may occur.
Been some of the same and some of not the same. Bike riding, walking, climbing on rocks, tending to flowers, taking a few photos. Lots of local travel and a few extended ramblings. Been a couple of planned weeks off and a sudden stint of unrequested free time. Been unhealthy levels of news consumption—and too many unprecedented home-country happenings to ignore. Serenity prayer on repeat.
Highlights of the past few months: Another several day section of the Mosel Radweg biking upstream this time. Pedaled out of the garage, down to the Lieser, swung right at the Mosel, spent one night in Germany, one in Luxembourg, and one in France before doing the train/bike combo back home. A two-week family visit full of activity. Tours of German towns, rivers, and trails. Lots of castles, lots of spots, lots of memories. A week in the Netherlands checking out North Sea beaches, Texel Island, and the Afsluitdijk dike. A couple days in Liege, Belgium. A day of walking in the High Fens National Park. A weekend trip to Saarland. And so forth… One year in and more anxious questions than predictions as to what the next one might deliver. Deep breaths and a day at a time.
Château de Sierck, France where we finished the ride.Boppard Via Ferrata on the RhineCochem on the Mosel Deutsches Eck, KoblentzNorth HollandLiege Stairs and High Fens NP, BelgiumAround Bad BertrichAlong the EifelsteigVölklinger Hütte UNESCO Ironworks Site. Amazing place.SaarbrückenErbeskopf, Saar-Hunsrück Nature Park
If a photo can be a metaphor this one fits the time. Thanks for checking in und Bis spater!
Springtime was a fine time and summer proves equally pleasant. Days of hot. Days of not. Light until 11 pm makes for dreamy sunset bike riding, late night porch sitting, Bitburger swilling, guitar strumming, hammock swinging… Only hard part is going to bed when you should. 8 months in.
In that time, I’ve been trying to focus on two things. Figuring out how to best do my job and gaining a basic knowledge of local surroundings. If we’re around long enough, the time will come for broader travels in neighboring countries, but for now I’m quite content staying within a limited radius from the backyard. Exploring the trails, learning the customs, trying to speak a little of the language…
Rhineland-Palatinate. Farmlands, Woodlands, Vineyards, and River Valleys.
Every day I am grateful for the house and community we ended up in. The town has less than 2000 inhabitants, yet still supports a bakery, a nice restaurant, a convenience store, and a gas station. Like all the smaller villages around here (hundreds of them) the town celebrates festivals, sponsors sporting teams, and hosts social events. There is a bus that comes through every couple of hours from which one can access neighboring villages as well as the nearest train station. And the trails! I’ve mentioned this already, but even after months of walking and biking from the house we’re still discovering more routes, different loops, new possibilities.
We recently took some days to go on an extended bike trip from the house, down the Lieser and Mosel Rivers, and ended at the confluence with the Rhine and the city of Koblenz. This trip was well over 100 miles of riding on signed and paved paths with only a mile or so of sharing the road with cars! Unbelievable to imagine that a good portion of the country is set up this way.
After spending the solstice in Koblenz, we hopped on a train with the bikes, shuttled most of the way back, and then rode a different route home from the train station. The last couple of weekends have been similar with bus-supported bike rides to various named routes in the local region. Miles and miles and miles of cruising through vineyards, along waterways, through tunnels, across bridges, past churches and castles, and into the hearts of centuries old downtowns.
Other highlights from the past few months include four-days of hiking around the Mullerthal region in nearby Luxembourg, a day trip to a medieval festival at the Sedan Castle in France, a beautiful spring day in Cologne, Via Ferrata in Manderscheid, stumbling across too many other castles to count, a short canoe trip on the Sauer, a few music festivals, and more. Jede Woche ein neues Abenteuer. A new something to appreciate.
Springtime in Cologne. Sunshine and cherry blossoms.Good times in the next town overMosel River ScenesWhole lotta Castles ’round these partsMullerthal Region, Luxembourg. A walking around wonderland.
We’re here if you want to see it for yourself sometime. Bis zum nächsten Mal, Freunde!
Unprecedented times and uncertainty all around for anyone paying attention. Hate speech, hypocrisy, and hyperbole on a ‘scale that the world has never seen before,’ to borrow one politician’s favored phrase from our country’s past decade. Though much of it seems historically familiar. Dehumanizing demonization of absolute enemies. Abolishment of empathy. Indoctrination of the not so innocent.
The poorest among us rally violently against their own self-interests at the behest of the Great Dividers. Manifest entitlement.
Nothing more benign, I suppose, than prattling on about it here. Suffice it to say the caged monkey between my ears has been shaking the bars like never before. Inevitable revert to monotonous daily mindset, asking myself the same questions I imagine posing to all those angry invisibles on the internet: ‘Is your life really that bad? Can you ever envision a time when you could be happy?’ We are all missing out on so much.
I spend more time than ever sitting at a computer in a windowless office responding to compiling emails without end—though apparently, according to these photos, I do manage to get out and do things still. From time to time. Or at least a body does even as deprived brain plays sulking teenager in the backseat. Without trying, really, the last couple months have found those separated someones wandering around German cities, riding bikes along little known rivers, and flying down snowy slopes in neighboring countries. A sampling of digitized snapshots they must have taken on their way.
Köln, Düsseldorf, Bonn, Koblenz
Cologne CathedralDüsseldorf. Abundance of interesting architecture.Decapitated saints in Bonn. More dead people stories.
Close In Bike and Hikes
Back to the Riding Board
Grindelwald, SwitzerlandSkiing in the Alps. More about the socializing than the shredding.Chamonix, France Montafon, Austria
For all the decent people out there who are still trying to take that high road. For everyone who cares about others less fortunate and the well-being of our shared speck in the universe. For anyone contributing to the positive—Danke für die Liebe.
Been three months now and I’m finally all moved in to a typical German house in a quaint little German town. A village so quintessentially German, in fact, it even has an ẞ in the name. And its own bakery. Two blocks from the front door. Alles gut hier in Deutschland.
In the previous post I alluded to the idea that I never before imagined visiting Germany, living in Germany, learning German etc. The idea of Western Europe as a whole was never all that interesting. No wild places, wild animals, endless horizons. Just a bunch of people sprawled out over centuries of civilization and occupation. Remnants of dead societies, endless conflicts, and past histories of human struggle, suffering, and survival… Whole lotta old buildings and a bunch of crumbling ruins. Constant reminders of senseless mortality and the undeniable fact that while our technologies continue to advance at a terrifying rate—humans as a species have not achieved equal evolution of conscientiousness.
We’re still up to the same divide and destroy games as always, now scaled to unfathomable ends. Base primitive. Obsessing over ever-factioning differences rather than aspiring to cohesive progression. Riches, religions, regions, and races. Killing in the name of…
Bastogne, Belgium and the 80th anniversary of the Battle of the Bulge. A giant war museum, an impressive collection of still-running WWII military vehicles on parade, and hundreds of French speaking ‘soldiers’ immersed in the role playing. What was once a historic event temporarily changing the course of civilization is now an annual party, the ironies lost in the revelry. Difficult to discern cautionary tale from glorification of never ending atrocities.
Painted portions of the Berlin Wall on display. Build it up. Burn it down. Repeat.
I was partially correct. There is all of that here in Europe. The constant visual reminders of past turned future. Of one’s insufficient influence in a greater collective destiny. People and more people and remnants of a lot of people before us. Now dead. Lots of them murdered by some other ones.
But, inevitably, there is a lot more to experience as well. There is beauty in the grandeur of synergy focused on positive pursuits. There is magic in those German Christmas markets held as they have been for generations amidst the bases of those old buildings. Humans at their finest. And there is beauty in the small things. The remnants of individual efforts to contribute to the cause. Art for art’s sake. Small expressions of the divine in the most unlikely of places. Door knockers, hand-carved carousels, the lay of stones in a sidewalk…
Christmas in Trier, Germany’s oldest cityPorta NigraSt. Peter’s Cathedral, Trier
And, thankfully, there are pockets of wild places as well, or at least immediate ways to experience nature on a daily basis. Woods and hills and well-worn paths weaving from one small society to the next. Paths that may well have been walked for centuries. Concavities in old stone stairways. And that’s kind of cool for sure.
There’s been a lot of exploring from the doorstep. Bike rides to an old abbey, hikes to a couple castles, loops upon loops and each trip only turning up more options for future excursions. Spazieren gehen. Mein neues lieblingsding.
Himmerod AbbeyManderscheid Castles and the walk there from the front door.Geierlay Suspension BridgeAround Burg Ramstein on old Roman footpaths.
Life seems to be happening faster than I can keep up with. Chaotic logistics, amendments, adjustments, car things, health things, other things… It’s been difficult to maintain semblance of presence through any of it due to necessitated focus on a foreign future. I try, but the days do blur.
A highlight of recent entropy manifested as impromptu trip to Mexico. No plans, no real objectives. The first week was traveling around the state of Hidalgo. The second was Mexico City. Wandering, walking, eating. Ruins, museums, parks. Buses, bikes, and the subway system. A more touristy trip than most, but memorable all the same. Most likely my final venture south for a long time to come. A summary:
Tula de Allende y Los Atlantes de Tula
Massive carved warriors overlook the Tula River valley from atop a pyramid in what was once the center of Toltec civlization.
Mineral del Chico y Parque Nacional El Chico
Established in 1982, El Chico was Mexico’s first national park.Cool weather and lots of rain made the time in Chico extra special.
History and mystery define Teotihuacan. When the Aztecs first discovered the abandoned city they thought it could only have been built by gods. You can’t climb the big pyramids anymore, but can wander for hours trying to imagine what kind of world it must have once been.
Xochimilco
High-pressure tourism in a captive environment. Pena que decirlo, pero estafa al maximo!
Coyoacán
Meeting up with Isaac and stumbling upon a Saner mural. Un gran día en la tierra de los coyotes!
Bosque de Chapultepec y Ciclovía de Los Domingos
Chapultepec Park is one of the largest city parks in the world and worth a full day (or more) of exploring on bike or foot. On Sunday mornings the city also closes down around 24km of main thoroughfares allowing bikers, pedestrians, rollerbladers, etc. full access to cruise the streets in a safe environment. It’s reported that over 50,000 people each week take advantage of the access and it’s been getting stronger for a decade now. I got to do one of the prototype rides back in the day and have wanted to get back ever since!
Todo el Resto
Scenes from ‘Sueño de una Tarde Dominical en la Alameda Central’ by Diego RiveraEl Zócalo decorated for Mexican Independence celebrations.Vochol Beetle. Over 2 million beads and thousands of artist hours. I wanted to check this out years ago when it was in Denver but missed it. Cool surprise when we walked into the popular art museum!Ay, la comida. Chilaquiles, pastes, chiles en nogada, tacos y más tacos, cócteles x La Torre LatinoamericanaLas cosas más sencillas. La lluvia, una vista, buena compañía…
Spent a little over three weeks in Portugal from late October to mid-November. The majority of the time was walking from town to town along the southwestern coast of the country. The end was Lisbon and days and nights of city life. There may have been a few highlights, most of them involving music, food, and experiences on the trail, but truly the whole trip was constant all good—‘Tudo Bem’ every single day.
The Trail
O Trilho dos Pescadores, otherwise known as The Fishermen’s Trail, is around 140 miles long and goes from Praia de São Torpes in the Alentejo region to Lagos in the Algarve. Most of the path runs along the coast and connects various routes local fishermen still use to access their favorite fishing spots on cliffs high above the Atlantic, hence the name. The trail is one of several routes of the Rota Vicentina system which combines paths, backcountry roads, and historic ways to create a network of options for exploring Southwestern Portugal while hiking or cycling.
The trail has become a significant source of small-scale tourism over the past few years, and while it doesn’t feel crowded, it wasn’t uncommon to spot 30-50 hikers a day following the route. And this was in the ‘low season.’ Most folks hiking the trail walk from town to town, north to south, often having their luggage shuttled ahead of them. They eat and drink well at Portuguese restaurants each night, and stay in a variety of lodgings. Those planning to complete the entire trail generally do so in 11-13 days, while others choose shorter sections and only spend a few days on the route. The hiking isn’t incredibly difficult, with average distances of 12-13 miles a day and not a lot of elevation, though sand, sun, rain, and wind may make some days tougher than others. In short, it’s a mid-level, low-stress adventure highlighted by hearty meals, pastries and gelato, tiny cups of espresso, good (ridiculously cheap) local wine, surprisingly diverse vegetation, and incredible views all day every day.
For those interested in the trail there’s plenty of information out there so I won’t bother to go into detail. Krissy and I spent 18 days hanging out on the route, staying a couple of nights (rather than just one) at multiple towns along the way. The days we weren’t walking the trail we were also walking for miles, riding bikes, kayaking, watching it rain… The advice I would give anyone looking to go would be: 1) walk south to north; 2) plan extra days to hang out along the way. Will let the photos tell the rest of the story.
The Language
One of the things I enjoy most about traveling has become speaking a different language, though since the only different language I speak is Spanish, I’ve mainly traveled in Spanish speaking countries. Portugal seemed like a good opportunity to get out of that comfort zone in a comfortable way—that is not being competent, but also not being completely lost either. A challenge without much consequence.
If you speak Spanish, chances are you will be able to read basic Portuguese materials and comprehend the essentials. What you will most likely not be able to do, however, is understand anything anyone is saying or be able to speak even the simplest sentences—especially in European Portuguese, which is notably different, especially in terms of pronunciation, than Brazilian Portuguese. Lots of nasal and guttural sounds which don’t exist in English or Spanish. So, while I didn’t do a lot of research about the route or places to go or things to do, I did my best to spend some time each day for the two months between choosing Portugal and going to Portugal to study some Portuguese. As a result, I ended up learning a little bit about the culture and country in the process.
It was all a lot of fun and those details truly enhanced the entire experience. While many people there do speak some English, almost all of the people I tried to speak to in Portuguese were more than happy to go along with it, and the effort really made the trip both easier and more enjoyable. While the conversations never progressed to in-depth discussions, I did manage to text with lots of Airbnb owners, find rooms and food and live music, successfully get a taxi with a phone call, and even make a few people laugh with my jokes!
The Food
Portuguese people are often affectionately noted for being overly proud of their cuisine. It’s not that their favorite dishes are not respectable, more like it’s a little difficult to place them on the same level as the haute fare one might think of when imagining France, Italy, Spain, etc. The food is good, very good, but good like upscale Midwest delicious perhaps? Maybe picture a healthier Cracker Barrel with lots of fish on the menu? The funny thing is that all of the towns from biggest to smallest have an open market certain days of the week where vendors sell fresh meat, fish, and loads of beautiful local produce—but somehow that produce does not make it into any of the restaurants. Ask for a salad and you’re getting the same Iceberg with one tomato slice as you would in a Kansas steakhouse.
We did our best to sample all of the traditional food available. It was tasty, nutritious, and filling. Dinner was generally seafood and fish, often served in a soup, sometimes in a big pot for two, and also grilled, baked, fried, made into casseroles, and so forth. Breakfast in Portuguese means ‘a small lunch,’ which was included with a hotel stay and looked about like it sounds, coffee, tea, sandwich buffet with croissants… Our real lunch we always ate while hiking—and was often my favorite part of the day. Find a place off the trail on a cliff edge overlooking the ocean and tuck into a thick heavy loaf of freshly baked bread (1€!), some fruit, a bit of sheep cheese, maybe a nap after… The best!
One cannot write about eating in Portugal without mentioning the crème de la custard: Pastel de Nata. There isn’t a Portuguese YouTuber that doesn’t have an episode on Portugal’s famous custard tart. It’s so hyped, in fact, I assumed there was no way that little Christmas (the Nata of the name) pastry could live up to the propaganda. Turns out, however, it most definitely does!
We tried a lot of different desserts. A lot. But nothing matches the sheer pleasure that is eating a fresh pastel de nata topped with cinnamon. So, we sampled a lot of those too. A whole lot! We even made it to the bakery in Belém where the pastry (in a slightly different variation) is said to have been created, its original recipe still a guarded secret after 200 years. So worth it.
The City
Lisbon is Lisboa and a whole lot of fun. We spent several days there at the end of the trip and gave in to straight tourist mode, as that seemed like the only thing to do really. We did a whole lot of walking, which is the best part about Lisbon, especially getting lost in the narrow historic streets of the Alfama district, where we stayed. We also rode atop a few tour buses, hopped one funicular, spent an hour on a streetcar, took a boat ride on the Tagus River, went on a guided walking tour, visited the central castle, admired the views from countless overlooks, and then walked some more.
Lisbon is a very touristy and crowded place, I must say, but we saw a whole lot of it those few days and enjoyed every minute of it. One of the things I was most excited for was hearing live and heartfelt Fado music, something that proved sadly elusive the first few days. But it all came together the last night we were in Portugal with a front row candlelit table a few feet from the animated performers, coupled with tasty traditional dishes to eat and copious amounts of ‘vinho tinto’ till closing. A most satisfying finale to the end of three remarkable weeks.
The Company
Krissy is the one person I’ve met in the past several years that is both interested in and equipped for the types of trips I like to do, often with short notice and no real plans. We went on several off-trail adventures this past winter and this summer started doing some backpacking, camping, and traveling together. Krissy is easy going, adventurous, and above all appreciative of new experiences. She is also super fit and almost always smiling. I love that she never has an agenda, instead trusting that no matter what ends up happening it’s going to be fun. In short, the perfect travel companion. As a bonus, she’s also a great model for all the photos, and credit for the too many pictures of me in this and the last post goes to her. Here’s to beaches, bakeries, balconies, out-of-the-way places, spontaneous shortcuts, unintentional explorations, and all the sunsets.
Big changes for certain. One extreme to the next. Back in the desert after several years away. AK to AZ. 49th state to 48th. Deep negatives to upcoming triple digits. Not sure how I’ll handle that.
What’s good? New job. Lots of time outside. Sunshine. The chance to contribute to the protection and conservation of public lands. A position with autonomy and plenty of opportunities to hike and paddle both. Wild places. Wildlife.
Everything else? Same same but different. Starting over once again.
Was -30 most of the week before I flew out of Fairbanks on the last day of January. Got in a few final ski outings, saw a couple last light shows, said goodbye to a few good friends. Not easy. It will always be hard to not be in Alaska. Stayed a night in Anchorage as I didn’t want to leave the state all at once.
Flew into Texas on February 1st just in time for a solid snow storm. Was in Arizona a week later and already over 80° in early February. Hit 90°+ when I was in Phoenix that week and I was about to meltdown physically and mentally. Thankfully, things have cooled off since then. Been off and on, a little warmer each week. Wind and heat, wind and cold. Chilly nights, hair dryer days. Mountains all around. Sky islands with crazy names: Chiricahuas, Huachucas, Gilas, Dragoons, Peloncillos, Pinaleños, Dos Cabezas… Have been out and about for certain. Dirt road driving, wilderness hiking, desert camping, shallow water boating, small town visiting, border crossing, solo missioning…
Mt. Graham. Doing the rounds at work. Sunset strolling spot and nightly sightings of Great Horned Owls.Life finds a way.Gila RiverBighorn Sheep at Orange CliffsGila Monster!Yep. They everywhere all the sudden!Bisbee, Douglas, Naco, Agua PrietaIt’s all happening.Coronado National MonumentInspiration Point, Chiricahua National Monument. Photo: R. Poginy
‘But momentum propels you over the crest. Imperceptibly, you start down. When do the days start to blur and then, breaking your heart, the seasons?’ – Annie Dillard, ‘Aces and Eights’
Spit-roasting through the galaxy. Round and round that hot old sun in a sizzling self-marinade. Days and thoughts on repeat. Rising and falling. Held in place by forces of gravity; hurtling through empty space thanks to the same. Time crumples in the created cosmos of memory and experience.
Light snow yesterday. Equinox tomorrow. More dark than light the next—and many to follow. Fall to winter. Seems like the one before last just got started.
Granite Tors
A visit from my old friend Peter, and a big loop up and amongst the Granite Tors.
Triple Lakes Trail, Denali NP
Rainbow Ridge and Canwell Glacier
Denali Highway (135 mile stretch of dirt road on south side of Alaska Range)
Yi doing what she loves.
Above three photos courtesy of Yi Wang
Angel Rocks to Chena Hot Springs (after this season’s Munson Creek fire)
Denali Park Road
Last weekend and gettin’ to winter, but that snow’s from August!
Point to something high and see how long it takes to get there.‘The world was made to be free in…’ Photo: Melissa B.
Beginning to feel as if I might have run out of words for this project. Cat’s got my keyboard, or something like that. Have also been feeling detached from reality at times (assuming there is one), like I’m floating around filming someone else working their way from one day to the next. But wanted to do a little something for the month, and suppose the location shots that person’s been wandering through have been interesting enough.
The beginning of August saw depressingly high temperatures breaking records across the state. Soon after, however, a return to something more akin to ‘normal’ occurred, and it’s been clouds and rain ever since. And yes, the impending return to dark and frozen. Ready or not.
I’m going with not quite, and hoping for some likeness of fall, though that semblance has already been creeping in for while now. Cooling temps, changing leaves, the inevitable setting of the sun. And it is all as beautiful as ever—the reds and golds replacing the greens—just feels a little early this time around.
Since the last time it’s been a week down in Denali guiding a few commercial trips on the Nenana, a hike up and over Mt. Healy, an overnight trip on the Chena River, a couple days over to the east (Tok and Delta Junction) trying to get out of the rain, and some hiking/camping/canoeing in the Maclaren Valley off the Denali Highway. There it was an upstream jet boat ride to ‘glam camp,’ a long hike to the Maclaren Glacier, a float out the next morning, and a stroll along the summit trail. It was also an amusing Alaskan souvenir brought to life when a moose swam across the river in front of us directly underneath a perched bald eagle with a glacier in the background. The T-shirts are real!
Denali NP
Mt. Healy and ridge walking for miles.
Chena River
Couple miles from the house as the raven flies, but feels pretty far from everything when you’re out there.
Photo: Lisa F.
Photo: Mike D.
Tok, Delta Junction, Quartz Lake
Mukluk Land. Monument to the epic quantity of junk weathering away in the Great North.
Little Tok River
Big Delta Bridge, AK Pipeline, and Tanana River
MaclarenGlacier, River, Camp, Summit Trail…
The long wet walk to Maclaren Glacier. Above photos: Melissa B.
In early July, I graciously accepted an opportunity to accompany some folks to a couple national parks in the arctic. Got briefed on the planning, packed the food and gear last week, and flew into the native village of Kotzebue on the Chukchi Sea, where I met the clients. From there, we took a ride in a bush plane and landed on a swath of sand dunes just south of the Kobuk River. Camped two days and nights in Kobuk Valley NP, followed by a scenic shuttle to the Upper Ambler, where we spent another couple of days in Gates of the Arctic NP.
These awesome people were hoping to get in some walking, and walk we did, making the most of every minute out there. A great group, and a solid mix of Alaskan experience: intense mosquito moments, varied weather, bushwhacks, ridge walks, river crossings, a short period of being ‘turned around,’ and a close encounter with a big black bear (mostly comical). Appreciation in abundance for all aspects of the week.
Like Water 