Free Movement

Freely moving, I watch as waves of vanishing time crash over the strange and muddled destinations I’m slowly forgetting.  A raft of human connections, some meaningful, others pointless, keeps me floating through both open ocean and overcrowded currents. Occasionally I feel a powerful lonesome undertow, born of having company.  However, these are the words of a fortunate man.  A man drenched by a sea of what my friend Erik calls, “endless days of fucking around”.  

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Baja Sur

We are leaving Baja today; mainland Mexico awaits! Since our last journal entry we’ve traveled from Baja Norte to Baja Sur, lounged around on beaches, kayaked in a beautiful bay, watched as whales splashed in the waves, eaten raw clams with locals off of the top of an old cooler, taken two weeks of Spanish classes, met loads of interesting characters, had a few brushes with incredibly mild disaster, caught a few unsuspecting fish, and managed to record a grand total of 1 podcast. Baja has been wonderful to us! We are incredibly grateful to have had the opportunity to spend so much time in this lovely place. If you are planning a trip down here, please feel free to reach out to us for recommendations.

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Spanish lessons - With a Special Focus on Needlessly Dry Sarcasm


In the culture of the Mazatec people of Oaxaca, Salvia Divinorum has roots in shamanic rituals which are meant to invoke some sort of congress with the Virgin Mary.  Confused and somewhat muddled theologies aside, I had always wanted to try this plant, and purchased the package without hesitation.  I also bought a small colorful glass pipe which would be solely dedicated to smoking it when the time was right.

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Light A Candle For No Reason...But For Reason Only.

After four months of somewhat stationary living, Tiff and I are doing our best to settle into life on the road again.  Pele´, as usual, is the standard bearer for exemplary behavior on the road and at home.  If he could speak, I imagine he might say, “Relax, and a good time will likely follow.  If it doesn’t, at least you’ll be relaxed.”

 

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A letter to Mom

Dear Mom - Mother’s Day is a construct, imagined by ad agencies to sell useless shit to stupid people (I know because I’m stupid…stupid is “our” word, by the way - smart people have to use the “S” word). Between now and that fabricated celebration day, I would like to share something with you. I promise, the tone will be considerably more sincere from this point forward.

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In the Soup

Why do we glorify the dead?  Did our impulse to amplify the character traits of dead people give birth to the heroes in our myths?   Embellishment does tend to make a story more interesting.  I suspect we exaggerate the details of the departed out of some sense of respect, and perhaps to lend meaning to our own lives before we join them. In either case, we owe it to ourselves to remember them honestly at some point.   

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Utah, Arizona, California, Part 1

I am way behind on the journaling. In an attempt to catch up, and simultaneously give myself a little break from writing to myself, this entry will cover a great deal of ground, in considerably fewer words. In other words, this one is mostly pictures!

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Moab, UT

Recently, I found myself in strange communion with an unlikely creature. As you may have heard, our little friend Pelé was bitten on the leg by a normally deadly animal. I'll tell that tale in a bit, but first I want to explore the curious position in which I now find myself; being genuinely grateful to a snake.

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Colorado: Part 2

Most expeditions into the unknown have had a purpose, or at least sought to find and or prove something specific. However, most expeditions, when researched after the fact, tend to provide a variety of unexpected side-benefits for the explorer.  For instance, when Francis of Assisi (my mother's favorite saint) walked to Portugal, looking for God, did he know he would end up communicating with non-human animals? Columbus sailed west, when others knew the world was round, but he and his crew set off to prove it by stealing gold from people who wouldn't expect him to do it from behind!  How could he have guessed he would have found so much chocolate in his search for India's back door?  When Drake set out to sell slaves and plunder the coastlines of the Americas, he couldn't possibly have imagined it would someday net him a beautiful bay, bearing his name long after his death.

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Colorado...part 1

Why do we look for meaning in just about everything we do?  Why do the gods and demons we've created for ourselves hold many layers of meaning, even for those of us who don't believe in them?  What is so special about our solitary adventures, and why are they so pregnant with significance?

You know we are suckers for meaning, when even a breakfast cereal can be sold with the promise of triumph, if ingested before leaving the house. Even though the very ideas of value, worth, or significance  are concepts we clearly made up, I believe the search for meaning in our experience is baked into the cake of our species...and for good reason. We need stories and fiction to help us feel safe in a world where little creatures like us are underfoot as the giants of chaos and chance, are at play above. We did our best to tip-toe around these Giants, as we navigated our travels in Colorado.

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WYOMING!!!

If ever we find ourselves in need of a reminder of our incredible privilege, all we need to do is reflect on the brief time we spent in Wyoming, at the end of the summer of 2018. In that little window of time, we were fortunate enough to avail ourselves of the generosity and incredibly accessible kindness of some truly wonderful people. From the Tetons in Jackson Hole to the Sherman Granite of Vedauwoo, we drifted down a river of new friends. It is our great honor to share those experiences with you.

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A Little Green Man in Montana

This Journal entry is a little long, so I'll not be sharing any of my thoughts on the phenomena of bio-film, or how the invisible atoms which bind us together may or may not be out to kill. There is a little talk about faith, drugs, politics and racial bias here, but mostly, I'm jotting down the dailies. If you've read this far, I'm happy.

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Sins of my Father...

…even the bathrooms project an unexpected graceful elegance. While bathing in these luxurious waters, you might even forget for a moment you are sitting in a large soup of strangers, whose personal aromas blend with the fragrance of the spring to achieve maximum fart-potency.

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F is for Fairbanks, Friend, and F**ck!

To shake a fist at the sky, and grit my little teeth together in an impotent display of useless rage at no one. It feels good, not because it is effective at creating change in any given environment, but because it creates a change in me. To exhaust that sort of toxic rage, the way our fantastic machine exhausts the unburned carbon atoms in the diesel fuel I feed it. To roll into and over those pointless moments, the way our tires roll over and into the pointless potholes... You just do it. You do it every day. Eventually, you can't do it anymore, and the game is over. The trip comes to an end. Then, you get your answers. Until then, you eat, you move, you experience, you exhaust, and you roll along, red with rage, or red with delight. The choice is probably yours.

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Alaska, Schmalaska

Some days, when you are barely aware of time,

Pondering the spaces between the lines of a thumbprint is a day’s work.

Occasionally, one is occupied solely with wildness.

Some days are domestic and reassuringly normal.

But somedays, you just drive.

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Andrew Couch
Back in a State...

The border crossing was uneventful. We felt the customs agent must have either been Canadian or spent so much time around them that his friendliness was somehow amplified to Canadian levels of expression through osmosis by proximity. We also noticed a sharp increase in the number of poorly driven RV's, giant truck campers…

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