Rivers and Roads

Every year I do this and every year it never gets old for me. For you the reader maybe, but for me... never. So, by all means please excuse this "I moved to Oregon Spam" to be exactly that, but for any one else... it's more or less the story of me, of independence, of adventure, exploration and knowing that life really could be better. Today is my Independence Day. The day I celebrate four years of living out here in beautiful amazing Portland Oregon. And... to help celebrate, yes... I will drink coffee, yes I will have a beer, and I will also get my library card. That is how I will celebrate!

Also, yesterday I bought a surfboard... so that makes me a little more Oregonian. All I need now is the wetsuit and I'll be set! In case you haven't heard, our coastal waters here are a little chilly. Speaking of which, today is one of the first warmer days in quite a while. However, in true Portland fashion I am layering by wearing a hoodie from a local brewery, Hopworks... whom just celebrated their 3year anniversary yesterday. As well, I am staying true to my Ohio roots by wearing a Cincinnati shirt to celebrate Opening Day for Major League Baseball (which in Cincinnati is a pretty big deal).

And, today I also celebrate four years of my Brandi Carlile video for The Story, for being filmed and being such a big hit on YouTube. You know it's got over 1,856,444 views? If only I had at least, a dime for every view I'd be a very happy camper by now. And that doesn't mean that I'm not currently a happy camper, it's just that I could probably also "afford" a camper... as well as a owning a house! And, in a very fitting move, Sara Ramierz from Grey's Anatomy is singing that song on a special musical episode of the show tonight! Make sure you tune in! Me personally, I'll be carb loading for my massive stage race in The Dalles this weekend. That's pretty Oregonian right? Bike racing.

Oh, and the photo that is posted above is my photo for the Portland Timbers, Portland's newest Major League sporting team (the only other one currently is the Blahzers). This winter they had quite a notable ad campaign that featured everyday Portland residents and soccer fans wielding axes and logging equipment. Even though some people complained that the ads were vague and didn't make sense (who are these people, they aren't even players or attractive models...) seemed to have missed the boat on the whole campaign. Because that's the point. Those people aren't "special"... they're just like you and me. And that's what makes Portland and soccer in Portland so special... especially before the season has even begun, we don't go to the game for the players (who are the players right now anyways?), we go for each other. It's the event, it's the spectacle, you, me... all of us, we are the Timbers Army and we want soccer to be big time in Portland. And it will be. It will be big, just like the ads of the everyday soccer fans suggest. And the people who don't like it... well, I suspect that it's just cause they are Blazers fans. And so, I digress, the second part of the ad campaign was to let people come in and get their "Timbers photo" taken for free. From here, people could download them and use them as profile photos or whatever on facebook. More free advertising for the Timbers. From there, they selected from the thousands of photos, the Top 100. Then, they invited the people to vote on their favorites (more free advertising) to be added on billboards. Results were talied yesterday and well... I didn't win... I didn't expect to, but it was fun to be in the Top 100. In fact, my gf Sam has the photo as her iphone screensaver. We were at a Chris Pureka concert this week and some girl behind Sam leaned in over her shoulder and said... "nice Timbers photo". To which Sam replied... "thanks, it's my girlfriend." Bam... more free advertising.

Anyways, I digress on this whole post in fact! So... to get back to the topic at hand.... yes, moving to Oregon. And here is the spam I promised you:

2010: 3.31.07. It talks about the significance of a certain show I went to go see at Mississippi Studios and what has happened since.

2009: She Flies With Her Own Wings. A condensed story of what brought me out here.

2008: One Year in Oregon Review.

2007: Oregon Trail: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 4.2

(some of the links were not working)

I think next year I should take this day to go climb a mountain or something.... ;)

we need more banjo...

If anyone has been keeping up with me or my new years resolutions/five year plan for the past few years, you'll notice a few things always seem to pop up. No, it's not work out more... lord knows I should probably work out less... the two items which always seem to pop-up are A) floss more and B) learn how to play the banjo.

While I can't really vouch for how more effective or not my flossing has become, I did make the first step the other week in Plan B), by actually purchasing a banjo - which i figure, is the first step in learning to play one. I've always heard that in comparison to the guitar, banjo's are rather difficult to learn, but I've never learned to play the guitar so I really have nothing to compare it to. I figure that when it comes to learning to play the instrument, that ground zero is probably the best place to learn. And yeah... I really don't know how to read music either, so that's another obstacle to overcome. Maybe by the time we're all said and done flossing everyday may be the more obtainable task, but I'm all about the challenges here.

Just so you know, my only prior musical experience came from Jr. High Band where I played the snare drum. Ideally during this phase in my life I should have learned to read music, but I had a rather poor introduction (since I joined band in sixth grade as opposed to fifth like most of my peers), so because of this, I think I learned most of my songs by memorization, improvisation and twirling my drumsticks. This learning process probably explains why after a year or two in band, I was moved from the drums to the cymbals and then finally to the triangle. By then, I saw the writing on the wall and regulated "playing music" into something I did once... much like show choir. Speaking of which... I will gladly dance and sing at random these days... but if ask me to sing "properly' without changing key, we might have some problems.

Also, I can't overly vouch for why I wanted to play the banjo in the first place... I guess part of it stems from that EVERYONE it seems, can play the guitar and well, the banjo is just a little more obscure (which is so hipster of me, I know). And I'd say the other part of is that I stem from Appalachia, so... it's in my blood if you. The banjo and bluegrass is the music of my people!

While I don't have big plans of learning to play "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" overnight and starting my own bluegrass band, I'm making strides to try and go over some online lessons a few times week in between work and spin classes. Hopefully eventually I'll at least be able to play "Cripple Creek" within a year. And if I can't well... there are always my goals of better dental hygiene (as the fine folks in Deliverance can tell you).

PS: as an interesting side note: I recently told my dad about buying banjo and he told me an interesting anecdote which I had no idea about, apparently, my grandfather had wanted my dad to learn how to play the banjo, and for whatever reason... my dad never did. So, one way or another, it appears as if my Grandfather is getting his wish.

in search of awesome... Hawaii part four.

Okay, I realized that I haven't yet reported on the rest of my trip to Hawaii. It's not like I went surfing, saw a sea turtle, some random dude said we were cute and bamn... trip over. Far from it in fact. It's just that while we were in Honolulu we were busy going places and doing things and after that... well, the point of the trip was to not do anything. On my itinerary for my Hawaii trip, right after surfing and pearl harbor was scribbled the word "nothing". Meaning, all I wanted to do was sit on the beach, sip some rum, and read some books. And well, that's what we did.

Oh, but aside from nothing... one day we did go sea kayaking off the Windward coast. It was fun but we spent most of our time in the kayaks using them to catch waves as opposed to "see nature" which is what our rental company suggested the boats for. I also found this other sea kayak that was totally emblazoned with Ironclad stickers.

After that, we headed to Malaekahana State Recreational Area, where I had a three night permit for camping (which is in the Northeast sector of Oahu). Happily, The Bus drops you off right outside the front gate. However, by the time we arrived there is was past dark and the park patrol people were locking the front gate. I had downloaded a map of the campsites so that I could tell where we were to pitch tent, but in the dark of the Hawaiian forest, every thing kinda looked alike... so we ventured to where we thought we were supposed to be, marveled at how no one else was there... and set up camp.

This is what we woke up to when we opened our tent in the morning:

Really, I can't complain with that view at all.

This is from the beach, we were about twenty paces from the beach. It was friggin amazing!

After fixing some breakfast we walked around a little bit and discovered where we were actually supposed to be camping. The regular campground was full of tents, people, turned over trash cans, and random chickens. Sam and I looked at each other and begrudgingly decided that later in the day we should probably move our tent to the proper location, but... we were in no rush. First on the list was laying in the sun and reading.

A little after 1:00pm a rain storm rolled in and so Sam and I decided to take the bus up to the fabled North Shore and see what the surfing is really like up there. And, so we did. And so... let me tell you, that shit is big. HUGE and no way in hell would I be surfing there anytime soon. On our day trip to the North Shore we also got some authentic Hawaiian Ice and had some tasty fish tacos at a local mexican place that seemed to be quite popular with the locals. Note to self: it's a good bet that when you're in the tiny surfing capital of the Pacific Ocean and home to some of the best waves in the world, if you local fare and not touristy stuff, do not go to the restaurant with a surf theme.

After picking up some beer and watching some surfing, Sam and I headed back to Malaekahana and made some dinner. Thankfully our tent and everything was undisturbed and so we just decided to wait it out and try to stay in our happy private backwoods camping spot for one more night, as squatters.

The next day was Valentine's Day and so I made Sam a beautiful card in the sand with a stick.

We spent all day hanging out on the beach reading and lounging in the sun. For the most part it was kinda like a private beach. We'd be all alone for most of the day till a random jogger from the nearby town would pass by. Some people would also walk nearby with surfboards, but it wasn't really that ideal of a surf spot so we'd get a little confused when they'd disappear into the distance. Also on that day a random Park Patrol man came by in a 4x4 ATV and angerly demanded to see my permit. I whipped it out and handed it to him. After a little confusion, his demeanor changed when he saw that we actually had the right paper work and then all of the sudden he was happily chit-chatting with us. He informed us that we were not in the right campsite, but told us that just as long as we moved later in the day we'd be okay. So, Sam and I agreed that we would move the site later in the day.... knowing full well that we had no intent on doing so.

So, we sat and read and drank and read and applied more suntan lotion and read and repeated that process all day long. When evening seemed to be approaching, we gather wood for a campfire and decided to cook dinner down on the beach. What followed was a delightful valentine's day dinner with wine and red beans and rice and summer sausage. Sadly though, our evening and kinda the rest of our evening of camping was marred by two random pit bulls that kept hanging around. Sam and I got kinda freaked out by them... but over all it was a delightful little camping spot.

The next morning Sam and I awoke bright and early before the sun at 5:30am to pack up camp in the dark and catch a bus to head south back to Honolulu. Not only did we have a plane to catch that afternoon back home to Portland, but we had booked a surf lesson at the private surf break that we had to catch a boat to get to. So, needless to say it ended up being a three hour long bus ride to get to where we needed to be.

The surf lesson was ho-hum, but both Sam and I rocked all the waves we got and so were were able to leave Hawaii on a positive surfing note and a little extra sun before we headed home to rainy Portland.