Contrasting Worlds and Virtual Reality

I just spent the weekend in the beautiful mountains of Vermont, where over a decade ago, I had determined that I was going to carve out my future. For better or worse that never came to fruition and I only ended up living there for four months, but every time I find myself back there I feel at home. The Green Mountain State is like a fairy tale. The privilege of getting to spend hours outdoors in the crisp snow skiing downhill on groomed trails or the woods is a sensation I can’t really compare to anything else. I wish everyone could experience the exhilarating feeling of the wind whipping past you as you soar. I think it’s the closest sensation I’ll ever get to having wings and flying. Now not only is outdoor experience there incredible, but the people are almost unreal too. So many people have the same views as I do about supporting local businesses and farmers. Nearly every place we went to eat featured some foods or beer that was locally sourced. Little mom and pop shops easily out number chains nearly everywhere you go. In fact, dinner conversation Saturday night involved our hosts’ friend offhandedly saying that she couldn’t remember the last time she had been in a “big box store.” We poured beer from growlers we picked up at a local brewery hours before and ate cheese that was produced in Vermont from grass-fed cows. Could the rest of the US be like this, please?

New Year’s Baby

Winter Solstice & The New Year

The year is coming to a close now. Winter Solstice and Christmas have come and gone. I hope you all have enjoyed the warmth of a fire, food, family, and friends. This week before the end of the year finds me in a joyful and reflective place. I’m shocked at how many of my year’s goals I accomplished. It feels like it was a big year for my personal growth. Determination and dedication felt like they were at all time highs. Like everyone, there were moments of lack of momentum and difficulty in mustering up the drive to get out of my own way. There were plenty of times I was hard on myself for not doing enough or trying harder, but at this arm length review, I’m proud of what I have done.

First Time

My alarm rang at 4:00 am. I needed to get up but my bed was warm, and I snuggled under the blankets a little deeper, tapped snooze, and settled into the peaceful darkness once more. 15 minutes later, however, my alarm went off again and I groaned. I had fallen asleep about 4 hours ago and had gotten up once in the middle of it to let my dog out. I rolled out of bed and stumbled to the living room where I had laid out my layers of clothes the night before. There were compression pants, fleece leggings, thigh-high wool socks, calf-high wool socks, several layers of shirts, a fleece, camo pants, and a camo rain coat. The forecast called for rain and I was ready. I pulled on my layers of clothes, discarding one of the shirts and then adding it back on just in case. Moving slower than I had any right to, I packed up snacks and made coffee. It was 4:45 by the time I left, and I was 15 minutes behind schedule.

“Shit. This is so inconsiderate of me,” is all I could think as I took a tentative sip of my coffee, slung my backpack on, and walked out the door. Like that, I was on my way north, to meet my buddy. 

Opening Day

NY Hunting License & Tags

 

Today is opening day of rifle season in NY. I was supposed to be on the road by 4:15 AM to make it to the hunting spot, but after a brief discussion with my friend and mentor, we decided to wait until tomorrow. There were a lot of holes in the plan for today and he wanted to go to his spot that he’s been tracking of months now. I took zero offense to it. It would be selfish to think otherwise. The invite we got to the other spot was weird. A group of people with no spots set up in advance with more people in the woods with guns than usual is a recipe for disaster. It’s a blessing in disguise as the hunting pants I picked up are a tad small and now I can actually exchange them for the right size.

A Farm Dog

Tyger isn’t a farm dog, mostly because we don’t live on a farm, but he is one hell of a dog none-the-less. He follows me around like a shadow. He’s obedient. He loves to run. When we take a walk around the neighborhood, he’s almost always off leash and listens to me when I tell him to wait at the end of the block so we can cross the road together. He doesn’t know too many tricks, but he is really good at sit, and I’ve never actually had to tell him to drop something. On hikes, he’s a beast who can go for miles and miles and climb nearly vertical rocks like a miniature billy goat.

Commitment

Norvin Green State Park Nov. 2016

You’re walking down a trail in the woods and you have the choice to take the blue trail to the left or the red trail to the right. You don’t have your trail map on you, but you have a general idea of what this park has to offer and where these trails lead. The blue trail to the left hugs looks like it has a slight ascent and is shaded by a beautiful grove of hemlocks with a stream running parallel downhill. The red trail to the right steeply ascends the hill. It has rocks and deciduous trees currently changing into an array of golds, ambers, oranges and fiery red. Each one initially seems to promise something different. You choose one and have committed to it.

Huntress

It was 8 in the morning and I had to duck under a massive elephant’s trunk and tusk to get to my seat. I had left my house a little before 7 am to get here. On the car ride up the Palisades Parkway, I watched the sun burn off some early morning fog from the woods while I sipped my coffee, zipping along.  When I got to the shop, I was worried I was later than I should be. Surrounding me were animals of all shapes and sizes, taxidermied, and a room filled with at least 30 people in plastic folding chairs. Finally, I was following through with a goal I’ve had for years. I was going to get my hunting license.

A Trip Down South to North Carolina

Wow, it’s hard to believe that three weeks ago, my partner and I had returned from our 8 day long trip to North Carolina. It was a blast. We stayed in variety of homes we found on Airbnb and even camped one night on a fledgling farm. My first draft of this post began while we were staying in a “tiny house” in Charlotte.

The view in the tiny house

Trips and Vacation

K. Toney / Flickr

In less than one week my man and I depart for a road trip down the coast to North Carolina (as the song goes, though dogwood flowers aren’t in bloom so I don’t think there will be any of those). I am so excited, I can hardly wait. We will be staying at a series of camping sites, cabins on farms, airbnbs, and maybe even a tipi. Besides the fact that it will provide an outlet for the daily grind, it will be a great opportunity to learn from the farms we will be staying at and to explore the great state of North Carolina. We have both built the state up in our minds, so I’m hoping it lives up to our expectations.

The idea of vacation is one that him and I have been discussing lately. As I’ve mentioned, we have big, big plans for the upcoming year. These things will require a lot of time and commitment. This means that this trip will be the last long one for at least the next year. Maybe two years. To some people I know this will seem like an abomination. How dare we not live up to our millennial expectations of being wanderlusts, traveling the world, hopping from hostel to hostel, and soaking up as many life experiences as possible. Travel is supposed to change you for the better. People talk dreamily about how walking through the streets of another country (third world or otherwise) really opened their eyes to some aspect of life they had grown numb to. Don’t get me wrong, I love travel and like other humans, I’m hardwired to crave the novel, but my thirst for something greater than a temporary experience outweighs the thrill of the foreign. Believe me, if all goes according to plan, I’ll have enough thrills in my future. They just not match the conventional definition. Fuck convention anyway. I’m not a devout fan. Everything should be questioned.