Honinbou

We're all geared up, the boxes are stacked chest high, and the home looks like it never has before in anyone's memory. As we prepare for departure tomorrow, Savta Grace has been busy making sure every item is accounted for, that all our clothing is clean, and giving mementos to friends and family. Stan, Judy, and Savta will be taking to the skies for the ride home, leaving me with this opportunity to explore the lands between the wet Southeastern swamps and the vast fields of the Midwest, by car. What can I expect of this trip? Unusual stops, warm homes, verdant forests, steep mountains, rolling hills, welcoming arms, tasty dishes......... Davey... read more

I wasn't ready for the change of scenery as we glided out from Steamboat Springs. Lush green mountains faded behind us to rolling hills of sage, windswept rocks, and dry grass to every horizon. Whyoming?! is what I wanted to yell out as I sat in our A/C-free car, going in and out dazedly from sleep to moon-land scapes for hours. Out of battery! ... read more

The sun crept slowly across the Arkansas River Valley. To the west, the tallest range of mountains in the Rockies, The Collegiate Peaks, were illuminated by the morning sun rising over the eastern hills that we were bivouacked on. A blue sky greeted me this morning on a hike up the hill. I took in views from afar of barren-topped mountains, fog, and two hot air balloons rising in the calm air, which was quite the opposite of the night that had just passed: a classic monsoon. Storms rolling in slowly over Yale, Harvard, or Oxford Mountain, with lightning, and some incredible wind. All this rocking us in intervals every hour or so; almost enough time to set up our faulty tent with no rain tarp included. ----------------------------------------------- "It feels like we've been out here ... read more

We were an odd bunch. 10 or 15 Jews standing next to a beautiful little creek below the Warren Wilson campus. Some of us were carrying little sambas, some PVC shofars, others with more serious items: real shofars, guitars, and challah! With song and dance, we looked into the ceremony we were about to complete: Tashlikh. Contemplation of our sins, or possibly looking at our regrets and finally casting them away in the river. It may of just been the quaint setting, by a babbling brook surrounded by Appalachian hills, sun streaming in, and the odd assortment of bamboo and other plants growing on campus, but there was a most surreal and spiritual effect to the ritual. After throwing bread crumbs or leaves into the river, we gathered in another circle for song and passing around ... read more

John, a local silversmith I met, told me of an upcoming dance happening at the Zuni Pueblo (town). I have been the region for a month and had hardly glimpsed the native cultures that abound here, and my curiosity was sparked, partly by ignorance and partly by John who has an intimate connection with the Zunis, as he has lived there years ago. I arrived on a pretty nice day, considering my climate, to Zuni Pueblo. The largest solely Native American town in the country. There were clouds which is a great relief, from the irascible sun, and even some wind to keep the biting gnats. My first impression was pretty faint as I was on the main strip and had my eyes taken up by the mobile fruit and jerky stand on hand. After filling ... read more

Fecal Engineer. That's my new job title. I say it without resentment, more with a laugh, as I plan in the next week to begin entering some of the wolves' enclosures to collect their excretions, and furthermore be able to analyze how their diet is treating them. Other chores including wolves will be morning rounds (fecal finds, water hauling, health check, and to even socialize with the wolves). Today, I begin my first venture into the Wolf Kitchen where all the food is prepared. Weekly we receive donations from local stores and butchers of scrap or rotten meat. Our job is to separate it from edible and useless. Go meat! SOMEDAY'S Update: I'm still trying to get acquainted with the place. I think I am in a hurry it seems to take on all the tasks, ... read more

"Watch out for those Mohave Greens; there's no antidote in the region for them. They'll have to fly you out if you get bitten. But those rare Mohave Reds are even worse. You won't miss their bite." I was walking slowly and cautiously through the landscape of Lucerne Valley. I could distinguish between 4 or 5 different plants in the area outside of the Sage and the angular Joshua Trees. One little bush was blooming white and each flower had it's own little beetle in it engorging itself nectar. This land is filled with harshness and fear where people avoid looking each other in the eye, yet no one seems to have trouble looking into the television. I've been lucky to make it this far, as the locals are damn tough, and don't pick up my ... read more

I jumped out of the truck, thanking the local with the friendly hills accent for the ride to Brascomb. Grabbing my stuff from the back I wave goodbye as he prepares to pull away. Before he hits the road he glances at me strangely then says, "3 favors," his 3 longest fingers waving at me, "you must do 3 favors." I was weird out for a moment, but the guy sitting behind me with his dog pronounced amicably, "3 random acts of kindness!". Then it made sense. I sat outside the Brascomb gas station and market for a while listening to the ramblings of the three drinkers sitting on the patio and eventually struck up conversation with the young fellow, Hans, and his dog, Cosmos who was a curious puppy. He eventually invited me to check ... read more