It has been a while since my last letter to you. Much has changed in my life - not all good, but neither all bad. I trust this finds you and yours’ well, happy, and prosperous.
Back in July of 2009, I resolved to relieve my unhappiness - at home and at work. I left Iowa and my wife for the clarity that has always come from visiting Montana. Thinking it would be a trip of uncertain duration or outcome, I brought a fair number of clothes while leaving all else, including dogs, behind.
My journey was short; I rarely dally when crossing the barren Midwest. Driving the new car afforded me the luxury of music. Still, I spent the time deep in personal reflection. It made no sense to change the trappings or location of my life if I remained immutable. Happiness, Eleanor Roosevelt once said, is an inside job. So why my rush to depart? Why was I unable to achieve happiness in Iowa, with my wife, employed by AT&T? Was this a mid-life crisis, or a mid-life awakening?
As the miles spilled away ahead and behind, I spoke into a voice record I bought in Sioux City. I rambled and vented, allowing my thoughts to wither or survive under the cold light of the world outside my mind. My soliloquy revealed an abiding frustration with the choices I had made. Not regret that I had made these decisions, but that I had clung to them so tenaciously out of fear primarily, and sadness. Despite four years of working a program of honesty and sharing, I had reached a point beyond which I could not go. I was waiting for change to happen, for God to show the way. But it had already. My feelings were proof, as was the poisonous silence at home and the results of my work. All of these showed my efforts to be in good faith, but with null results.
I wonder, increasingly, what and where the dividing line resides between seeing the path God wants for me, and the actions and point of decision where I meekly go about fulfilling his will. Not every selfless act is God-inspired (viz, my marriage), nor every selfish act narcissistic (viz, getting healthy and setting boundaries). Certainly striving for the act of spontaneous release like a Zen archer releasing the perfect shot is fulfilling – finding the true certain is an exercise in ecstasy – but it is damned hard!
The fact is I’m defined by what I do more than what I say or think. Setting loose to reset my life is a defining series of moments that are fundamental. I can no more erase their effects than a child can stop the ripples of a pond when casting a stone. No words can undo created memories or damned-up feelings. My heart, broken so long ago, heals but will forever be a different device, wound to a different beat.
My long-stated suffering in my job revealed a shallow, callow character that was called into account during the death of a co-worker and the murder of a friend. If my job was so terrible, why didn’t I simply leave and trust in God’s plan and my ability to provide my daily bread? If the job wasn’t terrible, why not cease my whining? It accomplished little save some laughter at shared bitterness. Gratitude began to emerge, but with it a sense of my immaturity. I contain the seeds of my own transformation, charged by a higher power. Mulling endlessly was cheating myself of time and new experiences. As I valued myself a Renaissance Man, should I not cast off my own self-imposed limitations? What did I have to risk? Home – a pittance to maintain. Marriage - if it failed to emerge whole it would not be because of my job. Friends, coworkers, family – all those I love and respect returned in kind. We hope only for success and happiness for others, even if it means some bittersweet sacrifices to our own collaborations. No, I had to risk my faith that I would be all right. It is a terrible, and defining act, to cut the cords and fall to discover if I could fly. How ironic to find I could fly all along.
When I realized I was ready to take risks and move towards a new life, rather than away from that which I feared, the other decisions were made minor in comparison.
Location and vocation were reversed in priority, as were safety and surety. Upon examination I wished for a more active lifestyle, out in nature where my daily relationship with god was constantly renewed and affirmed. I missed skiing and hiking, feeling alive with the wind about me. The stark beauty of the western Rockies beckoned, and the idea of a livable, walkable, bikeable city entranced. My relationship with my parents waxes increasingly important as time’s weight presses, so I wanted to be closer to them. Finally, food and diversity were key. Much as I wish I were hardier, I must admit loving rare and yet now mundane foods only readily obtained in a city of at least modest size and urbanity. Salt Lake City fulfilled all of these criteria with the added blessings of sun, low cost of living, and the proximity of my best friend from college. Bought a house with a yard for the dogs. Done!
As for work, I looked to past loyalties, stated goals, and flexibility. My fondest wish at the time was to start a company that helps the earth, my community, offers a decent living wage and lifestyle that is reasoned and sane, and that contains within it the seeds of building a better from of corporate capitalism. In short, I knew how I wanted it to feel long before I suspected what it might produce.
My interests and past education, both collegiate and vocational, appear to coincide with the recent idea of Green Information Technology: the synthesis of methods, technologies, and paradigms found within an Internet focused world and applied to the startling backward electrical generation and distribution industries. To my own eye, few have the wherewithal to see beyond the immediacies of a smart grid into its many future applications and pitfalls. Energy usage is like water consumption or data traffic, the devil is in the methods of measurement, the presentation of useful, meaningful statistics, and the fulfillment of the audience’s needs. The tips and tricks honed in the past 11 years of networking do not need to be recreated for energy.
Clearly then I had adequate passion and experience, but still require capital, time, personnel, and industry specific knowledge. I have been blessed with a plentitude of talented friends, so that has proven to be a relatively low barrier. Knowledge requires time and discipline – fewer hobbies, less time devoted to other pursuits, more focus. But capital, that is tricky. Because of the economy it could be very difficult, so maybe take a job to build up a war-chest, research in the meantime. Get smart. Self-funding is as liberating as self-determination.
Such a dual life has proven challenging, but not insurmountable. My biggest obstacle is myself and my capital sin is distraction. I’ve been blessed with a lucrative job, but without applying a vision of my long term goals, I’ve merely changed players instead of the game. I’ve much to do, and time moves on faster and faster.
I shall close this letter with fond wishes for the achievement of our dreams tempered by our obligations of service to a higher power, to our families, and to humanity. May we be shriven of ego, and bathed in the knowledge that we are a force for good.
Happy holidays,
Dave
Saturday, December 04, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
I survived the mountains of AZ and all I have to show is this weird rash
Time for a new installment of the ToCN. I've been pretty busy; since Christmas I've been to Michigan, Salt Lake City, Newark, Tuscon, the Galiuros Mountains, and am now writing this from some high end coffee shop in downtown Phoenix. There is Much to report.
If you haven't gotten a chance to visit the left pinkie of the right hand of Michigan, I highly recommend including it in your travel plans. In June. Make sure to account for terrorist attack attempts while laying out your trip timeline. We ended up staying 2 extra days - causing my father's fun meter to plummet below the line. We then made an icy drive to Chicago to catch our second (new) leg back to Montana where people are apparently ready for bad weather. Still, aside from taking wonderful long walks only to return to the image of a day-glow Santa looking like a likely suicidal defenestration victim, the time with family was pretty good. We don't get together often (last reunion: 1994), but the events have consistently been wacky and full of laughter.
Upon returning to the "406" - and, no, people in MT don't say that - I was buffeted by interview requests. Weird, right? People were asking me to interview with their companies. Gratifying, yes; convenient, no. I had exactly 2 free days between a 23 hour drive to Tucson and the beginning of my lightweight backing course in the Galiuros Mountains of eastern AZ. So a few quickly arranged flights, some change of clothes, much handshaking, and a lot of caffeine shots later, and I was back in business ready to head south to my NOLS class by way of SLC. By the way, apparently the Jets didn't make it to the Superbowl despite the rabid fans of Northern NJ. Sorry all.
NOLS stands for the National Outdoor Leadership School - it focuses on developing leadership skills for the wild (taking groups of underexposed, wild-eyed friends into the deep frontiers as bear snacks), is an advocate of Leave No Trace, and teaches a lot of advanced skills in backcountry hiking, climbing, cooking, and medicine. I attended their Alaska hiking course after graduating from Stanford and have always looked back on my time in the Talkeetna Mountains as a coming-of-age experience. This time I had two weeks of time, a lot less physical hardiness, and a desire to hang out with folks who had at least graduated from high school.
My trip began at the NOLS Southwest branch in east Tucson - an equipment briefing, time in the mandatory NOLS circle for introductions, and a gear perusal. This course focused on the concept of lightweight backpacking. Rather than imitating masochistic mules bearing 60lb + packs, we worked hard to reduce our total carrying load to 25 pounds. Trust me - this is a phenomenal and fundamental shift in my packing paradigm. I mean, c'mon, no change of clothes, a lot of layers, 1 spoon, and a tent with no floor. What the hey!!!
Still, given the state of my relatively decrepit body, esp. knees, halving the total weight enabled me to keep up with all of my 19 year old classmates. We left the next morning for a planned 13 day, 90+ mile hike through the Galiuros Mountains of eastern Arizona: high altitude desert canyons, bouldering, bushwacking ("schwacking"), and cliff ascents. Lighweight back packing makes hopping, climbing, jumping, and swimming (brrr) possible; the desert southwest also enables LWB b/c you don't have to worry about rain/snow/insects/etc.... In theory.
I can't know if you have kept up with the weather as my father obsessively does (Dad knows the dewpoint in Glasgow or Rekyavik on any given day). There ended up being the father of all weather systems squatting over the southwest for days, dropping untold billions of gallons of precip all over the place. On day 9 a steady drizzle began to fall. Interestingly, when we ascended 2000 feet to conquer Rhodes Peak, the sun was shining, but that night the rain returned as sleet, then snow, then a blizzard. There is nothing that can prepare you to wake up in a down sleeping bag that now has the properties of a wet plastic sack. Everyones' gear was soaked and would have no chance to dry out - essential for providing insulation and retaining heat. It was time to bug out.
We had a few days of exciting, accelerated travel through heavily blanketed trails (where trails existed) and had 2 12 mile days in a row with over 4000' of elevation change. We ended up splitting up the group, with our three strongest hikers taking the long way out of the mountains. My friends hiked 12 more miles (now 36 in 3 days of high winds and snow, little insulation) and descended 3000' in just over 4 miles to get a van to our rendezvous; the rest of us hiked out to a little-used roadhead to wait in filthy, wet tarps, clothes, and sleeping bags. We slept when possible, and I had a great time singing songs with one of my tentmates who is training to be an Opera singer. I had asked her to sing throughout the trip - only when the snow was falling in direct proportion to morale did she share her voice. It was ethereal to hear on the windswept, shadowy plain. What irony - singing "Paradise" in duet under those conditions. A truck arrived a few hours later bearing us all in its bed to a delightfully warm and dry ranchhouse. Western hospitality is NOT DEAD. Standing on the threshold of the light and heat and seeing everyone healthy and laughing was a highlight of my trip.
So, it was back to the frontcountry's noise and gaudy illumination, burritos and laundrymats. We had a day to clean up and reminisce. The other "old guy" and I found a pretty, uh, unique barber shop named Dapper where the shaves are close, the room is red, the beers are free and unlimited, the pool table level, and the hairdressers heavily tattooed. It was surreal - but I left a bunch of facial hair there and felt great. That, plus a Chinese reflexology massage near the hotel, and I am restored to my self, minus a few pounds. Spend some final hours with my new friend, Niek, at the Sonora Desert Museum watching birds, javelina, and big cats. Awesome place!
Headed north to Phoenix to hang with my long-time Stanford friend Emma and explore downtown. I'm fairly reacclimated but I swear, there are a lot of people around me and they smell funny. It must be because they are clean :)
Take care - more to follow when I arrive in SLC for househunting. Hurray!!
If you haven't gotten a chance to visit the left pinkie of the right hand of Michigan, I highly recommend including it in your travel plans. In June. Make sure to account for terrorist attack attempts while laying out your trip timeline. We ended up staying 2 extra days - causing my father's fun meter to plummet below the line. We then made an icy drive to Chicago to catch our second (new) leg back to Montana where people are apparently ready for bad weather. Still, aside from taking wonderful long walks only to return to the image of a day-glow Santa looking like a likely suicidal defenestration victim, the time with family was pretty good. We don't get together often (last reunion: 1994), but the events have consistently been wacky and full of laughter.
Upon returning to the "406" - and, no, people in MT don't say that - I was buffeted by interview requests. Weird, right? People were asking me to interview with their companies. Gratifying, yes; convenient, no. I had exactly 2 free days between a 23 hour drive to Tucson and the beginning of my lightweight backing course in the Galiuros Mountains of eastern AZ. So a few quickly arranged flights, some change of clothes, much handshaking, and a lot of caffeine shots later, and I was back in business ready to head south to my NOLS class by way of SLC. By the way, apparently the Jets didn't make it to the Superbowl despite the rabid fans of Northern NJ. Sorry all.
NOLS stands for the National Outdoor Leadership School - it focuses on developing leadership skills for the wild (taking groups of underexposed, wild-eyed friends into the deep frontiers as bear snacks), is an advocate of Leave No Trace, and teaches a lot of advanced skills in backcountry hiking, climbing, cooking, and medicine. I attended their Alaska hiking course after graduating from Stanford and have always looked back on my time in the Talkeetna Mountains as a coming-of-age experience. This time I had two weeks of time, a lot less physical hardiness, and a desire to hang out with folks who had at least graduated from high school.
My trip began at the NOLS Southwest branch in east Tucson - an equipment briefing, time in the mandatory NOLS circle for introductions, and a gear perusal. This course focused on the concept of lightweight backpacking. Rather than imitating masochistic mules bearing 60lb + packs, we worked hard to reduce our total carrying load to 25 pounds. Trust me - this is a phenomenal and fundamental shift in my packing paradigm. I mean, c'mon, no change of clothes, a lot of layers, 1 spoon, and a tent with no floor. What the hey!!!
Still, given the state of my relatively decrepit body, esp. knees, halving the total weight enabled me to keep up with all of my 19 year old classmates. We left the next morning for a planned 13 day, 90+ mile hike through the Galiuros Mountains of eastern Arizona: high altitude desert canyons, bouldering, bushwacking ("schwacking"), and cliff ascents. Lighweight back packing makes hopping, climbing, jumping, and swimming (brrr) possible; the desert southwest also enables LWB b/c you don't have to worry about rain/snow/insects/etc.... In theory.
I can't know if you have kept up with the weather as my father obsessively does (Dad knows the dewpoint in Glasgow or Rekyavik on any given day). There ended up being the father of all weather systems squatting over the southwest for days, dropping untold billions of gallons of precip all over the place. On day 9 a steady drizzle began to fall. Interestingly, when we ascended 2000 feet to conquer Rhodes Peak, the sun was shining, but that night the rain returned as sleet, then snow, then a blizzard. There is nothing that can prepare you to wake up in a down sleeping bag that now has the properties of a wet plastic sack. Everyones' gear was soaked and would have no chance to dry out - essential for providing insulation and retaining heat. It was time to bug out.
We had a few days of exciting, accelerated travel through heavily blanketed trails (where trails existed) and had 2 12 mile days in a row with over 4000' of elevation change. We ended up splitting up the group, with our three strongest hikers taking the long way out of the mountains. My friends hiked 12 more miles (now 36 in 3 days of high winds and snow, little insulation) and descended 3000' in just over 4 miles to get a van to our rendezvous; the rest of us hiked out to a little-used roadhead to wait in filthy, wet tarps, clothes, and sleeping bags. We slept when possible, and I had a great time singing songs with one of my tentmates who is training to be an Opera singer. I had asked her to sing throughout the trip - only when the snow was falling in direct proportion to morale did she share her voice. It was ethereal to hear on the windswept, shadowy plain. What irony - singing "Paradise" in duet under those conditions. A truck arrived a few hours later bearing us all in its bed to a delightfully warm and dry ranchhouse. Western hospitality is NOT DEAD. Standing on the threshold of the light and heat and seeing everyone healthy and laughing was a highlight of my trip.
So, it was back to the frontcountry's noise and gaudy illumination, burritos and laundrymats. We had a day to clean up and reminisce. The other "old guy" and I found a pretty, uh, unique barber shop named Dapper where the shaves are close, the room is red, the beers are free and unlimited, the pool table level, and the hairdressers heavily tattooed. It was surreal - but I left a bunch of facial hair there and felt great. That, plus a Chinese reflexology massage near the hotel, and I am restored to my self, minus a few pounds. Spend some final hours with my new friend, Niek, at the Sonora Desert Museum watching birds, javelina, and big cats. Awesome place!
Headed north to Phoenix to hang with my long-time Stanford friend Emma and explore downtown. I'm fairly reacclimated but I swear, there are a lot of people around me and they smell funny. It must be because they are clean :)
Take care - more to follow when I arrive in SLC for househunting. Hurray!!
Friday, December 25, 2009
Merry Christmas to All!!
I hope this finds each of you enjoying a warm and happy holiday with your loved ones. I certainly enjoyed mine with the Sanborn clan. Aside from the regular sniping that occurs at any family gathering, it was great. This is the first time since 1992 I've seen everyone; such occasions are not to be taken lightly.
There's a lot of craziness in the world. Here's hoping that only some of it leaks inside ;)
Ho Ho Ho
Dave
There's a lot of craziness in the world. Here's hoping that only some of it leaks inside ;)
Ho Ho Ho
Dave
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Merry Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hannukah, Wiccan Day
Greetings, all, from snowy, sun-drenched Michigan. No snow-ball fights, here, to distract the family from its very rare reunion on the Eastern Shore of Lake Michigan, lower glove, little pinkie region.
My parents and I, like many of you, slogged through hours in airports, arguments over directions (both among ourselves and with the GPS unit), and lock-outs from rental cars. But it is worth it to see folks who think like you and yet still welcome you with open arms. The power of blood is amazing for stain removal as it were.
It has not been a quiet week anywhere, least of all in my life. As Johnny Cash sings, I've been everywhere, man. I traveled to Salt Lake City and had a wonderful time exploring that clean, well-organized town with my friend Eric. He showed me the many nooks and crannies - including those forbidden fruits: coffee houses, patisseries, restaurants built by chain-smoking, poodle-bearing madams, taverns (no membership required), and chocolatl bars. O, SLC, how I barely knew ye.
Of course, in a town with one of the highest birth rates in the country, a trip to IKEA was required. We spent a few hours humoring my irrepressible urge to nest. Van's aren't built with cabinetry in mind, but I could imagine a well-turned-out, 515 sq. foot house after our visit... for each dog ;) I like being able to stretch out just a bit more.
Best of all, skiing, great skiing, is only 25 minutes away and hiking to-die-for is within a few hours drive. Just going up above the inversion layer reveals stark, beautiful scenery. As my friend Shannon says, SLC is a well kept secret. Well, I guess until now.
The on to San Francisco for 2 weeks of culinary excess and endless visitations EVERY NIGHT with old companions and new friends. I've rarely had so much fun for such an extended period of time. My friends, Mike and Chau, braved not one but two boarders and put up some very fine pho. Between beers, bars, sushi, pho, awesome hot pot, hot Chinese food, Cha'Am pad-prik-king, Shalimar Pakistani food, filming friends beat on each other in a dojo, and some console and table top gaming every spare minute was full up. Thus my inability to write to you, dear friends. Just too much time living and not enough talking about what was happening. It is a wonderful combination, but does call for some down time after a bit. [Pant. Pant.]
I also got a chance to hang out with AT&T friends and other corporate sponsor-types and enjoy the higher end SF experience, you know: a little bit of food and drink for a lot of money. At least they sure make the grey goose martinis strong. Even spent an evening to celebrate my retirement at Acote', good food and great wine in Oakland's Rockridge area. If ever I return to SF, it will be there. I spent a half hour wandering its balmy streets, soaking in the cute shops, and nearly getting hit by an impatient driver. Makes for memories :)
So... a weary, and plumper, Dave wended his way over the 7000+ Sierras only to relearn how to put on chains, and forget how to properly take them off. Slithering around in 3" of wet slush is NOT fun. However, I can assure you all, I know how to deal with snowy driving conditions. . . I promptly returned home and bought a 4x4 Toyota Tacoma with snow-gripping tires. Screw chains.
Anyway, this post is running too long. I am approaching the end of my 11 year career at AT&T, my marriage is winding down, and the sun is dropping below the horizon at 4:30 p.m. I feel great and enthusiastic about what the future will bring. Despite everything, I know we will all be o.k.
Stay comfortable and find folks who make you laugh to hang out with. I'm happy being with crazy family in cold Michigan. I've never felt so warm.
My parents and I, like many of you, slogged through hours in airports, arguments over directions (both among ourselves and with the GPS unit), and lock-outs from rental cars. But it is worth it to see folks who think like you and yet still welcome you with open arms. The power of blood is amazing for stain removal as it were.
It has not been a quiet week anywhere, least of all in my life. As Johnny Cash sings, I've been everywhere, man. I traveled to Salt Lake City and had a wonderful time exploring that clean, well-organized town with my friend Eric. He showed me the many nooks and crannies - including those forbidden fruits: coffee houses, patisseries, restaurants built by chain-smoking, poodle-bearing madams, taverns (no membership required), and chocolatl bars. O, SLC, how I barely knew ye.
Of course, in a town with one of the highest birth rates in the country, a trip to IKEA was required. We spent a few hours humoring my irrepressible urge to nest. Van's aren't built with cabinetry in mind, but I could imagine a well-turned-out, 515 sq. foot house after our visit... for each dog ;) I like being able to stretch out just a bit more.
Best of all, skiing, great skiing, is only 25 minutes away and hiking to-die-for is within a few hours drive. Just going up above the inversion layer reveals stark, beautiful scenery. As my friend Shannon says, SLC is a well kept secret. Well, I guess until now.
The on to San Francisco for 2 weeks of culinary excess and endless visitations EVERY NIGHT with old companions and new friends. I've rarely had so much fun for such an extended period of time. My friends, Mike and Chau, braved not one but two boarders and put up some very fine pho. Between beers, bars, sushi, pho, awesome hot pot, hot Chinese food, Cha'Am pad-prik-king, Shalimar Pakistani food, filming friends beat on each other in a dojo, and some console and table top gaming every spare minute was full up. Thus my inability to write to you, dear friends. Just too much time living and not enough talking about what was happening. It is a wonderful combination, but does call for some down time after a bit. [Pant. Pant.]
I also got a chance to hang out with AT&T friends and other corporate sponsor-types and enjoy the higher end SF experience, you know: a little bit of food and drink for a lot of money. At least they sure make the grey goose martinis strong. Even spent an evening to celebrate my retirement at Acote', good food and great wine in Oakland's Rockridge area. If ever I return to SF, it will be there. I spent a half hour wandering its balmy streets, soaking in the cute shops, and nearly getting hit by an impatient driver. Makes for memories :)
So... a weary, and plumper, Dave wended his way over the 7000+ Sierras only to relearn how to put on chains, and forget how to properly take them off. Slithering around in 3" of wet slush is NOT fun. However, I can assure you all, I know how to deal with snowy driving conditions. . . I promptly returned home and bought a 4x4 Toyota Tacoma with snow-gripping tires. Screw chains.
Anyway, this post is running too long. I am approaching the end of my 11 year career at AT&T, my marriage is winding down, and the sun is dropping below the horizon at 4:30 p.m. I feel great and enthusiastic about what the future will bring. Despite everything, I know we will all be o.k.
Stay comfortable and find folks who make you laugh to hang out with. I'm happy being with crazy family in cold Michigan. I've never felt so warm.
Friday, November 27, 2009
It's On!
All,
I've returned to the road to visit friends and places heretofore unseen (by me) in the West. I'm also hoping to network like a big dawg as my impending unemployed status grows more real. I think I forgot how to budget somewhere along the way. I'll be learning quickly... and brushing up on my skills as a calligrapher. "Will work for food." Does that look better in 24 or 36 point font?
I'm now in Salt Lake City and hanging out with a very good, long-time friend of mine, Eric. We explored a few of SLC's more exotic venues - i.e. caffeinated and ethanalated (my new word of the day) establishments. I don't know of the LDS church bans chocolate cake, but they probably should; we tried that too. So far I thoroughly approve. Plus, no rain! Sweet.
I'm thinking this might be a good place to return. It is geographically and oddly equidistant to all of the Western US markets, halfway between the sun fields of Arizona and the windfields of Wyoming, and is affordable. Plus the houses are damn nice - for once, it is good to be in real estate in the late "oughts". We'll see, but so far SLC is looking like a damn nice place to start a business. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to fall - you know, forceful baptism and/or conversion, but despite fears nothing has happened. So far. As anyone with an ounce of sense knows, however, sometimes they really are out to get you.
I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving with friends and family. I spent a wonderful evening talking about old Navy stories at a charming party with friends in Western Montana. We might not deep fry turkeys, but folks out here know how to throw down a 30k calorie spread. 3 slices of cake and a loosened belt later and I'm off for my second soiree with beer and football. Go Denver! It was a nice night - if only I could have woken up on time this morning.
Finally, I must admit the van remains in the shop. I'm traveling by way of a rental car. I have to hang my head in shame, but I really, really didn't want to be stranded between Idaho Falls and Butte. Look it up in google (or click here). Having your car crap out in this part of the world is not for the faint of heart. I'm fairly certain both USAA and AAA give a standard response to roadside assist requests in this part of the world. "Sorry, kid, you're on your own" followed by maniacal laughter recorded earlier in front of a studio audience. Bottom line, I went with something reliable. Dad and I will be effecting repairs upon my return from the SLC/Bay Area/Portland road trip. Once new boots are in, leaks are plugged, and gas mileage is solidly above 16mpg, I'll chance being stranded in one-tooth towns.
Take care and happy holidays. More reports from the city of Temple to follow.
I've returned to the road to visit friends and places heretofore unseen (by me) in the West. I'm also hoping to network like a big dawg as my impending unemployed status grows more real. I think I forgot how to budget somewhere along the way. I'll be learning quickly... and brushing up on my skills as a calligrapher. "Will work for food." Does that look better in 24 or 36 point font?
I'm now in Salt Lake City and hanging out with a very good, long-time friend of mine, Eric. We explored a few of SLC's more exotic venues - i.e. caffeinated and ethanalated (my new word of the day) establishments. I don't know of the LDS church bans chocolate cake, but they probably should; we tried that too. So far I thoroughly approve. Plus, no rain! Sweet.
I'm thinking this might be a good place to return. It is geographically and oddly equidistant to all of the Western US markets, halfway between the sun fields of Arizona and the windfields of Wyoming, and is affordable. Plus the houses are damn nice - for once, it is good to be in real estate in the late "oughts". We'll see, but so far SLC is looking like a damn nice place to start a business. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to fall - you know, forceful baptism and/or conversion, but despite fears nothing has happened. So far. As anyone with an ounce of sense knows, however, sometimes they really are out to get you.
I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving with friends and family. I spent a wonderful evening talking about old Navy stories at a charming party with friends in Western Montana. We might not deep fry turkeys, but folks out here know how to throw down a 30k calorie spread. 3 slices of cake and a loosened belt later and I'm off for my second soiree with beer and football. Go Denver! It was a nice night - if only I could have woken up on time this morning.
Finally, I must admit the van remains in the shop. I'm traveling by way of a rental car. I have to hang my head in shame, but I really, really didn't want to be stranded between Idaho Falls and Butte. Look it up in google (or click here). Having your car crap out in this part of the world is not for the faint of heart. I'm fairly certain both USAA and AAA give a standard response to roadside assist requests in this part of the world. "Sorry, kid, you're on your own" followed by maniacal laughter recorded earlier in front of a studio audience. Bottom line, I went with something reliable. Dad and I will be effecting repairs upon my return from the SLC/Bay Area/Portland road trip. Once new boots are in, leaks are plugged, and gas mileage is solidly above 16mpg, I'll chance being stranded in one-tooth towns.
Take care and happy holidays. More reports from the city of Temple to follow.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Trip in Remission
All,
Thanks for your patience. I had to return back to my base of operations in Polson, MT to perform a thorough check on the BBB as well as take care of some local business crisis (mold in the rental!). It was a good week to reassess my travel plans.
First - unless one is REALLY camping and unplugging from the grid and Internet, traveling in a fuel inefficient vehicle from coffee house to coffee house isn't cheap. At all.
Second - it is crucial to drive to a place and then really shift into local (i.e. bike) transport. This begs the question - where can one simply shut down and plug in. Well, during my final days at the corporation, I'd have to go to a city and stay at a friend's place, or stay at a KOA. I am lucky to be blessed with many friends, but I feel guilty about consuming your mojo (i.e. power) too long and KOA aren't as cheap as I imagined - $30/night is better than a hotel, but not exactly the depth of low rent I was hoping for. After I leave the corporation, I can camp in place and start hiking in earnest at camping rates - hopefully asymptotically approaching, but likely not touching, $0.
Third - I must contain and plan my itinerary better or get a more fuel efficient vehicle. Wandering hither and yon at 13-14mpg is simply too expensive. $90/day was my average for a week of travel in the mountainous west. I have a feeling that traveling like this is quite doable in the urban wilderness of the East, but it gets pretty pricing to do a lot of travel between stops. Toyota Sienna or Tacoma look nice and will likely fit into my future business better than a VW van.
More to ponder. I hope to drive out to Portland next week . . . depending on what the other mechanic tells me about the VW. Seems there were a few other problems. . . .
Thanks for your patience. I had to return back to my base of operations in Polson, MT to perform a thorough check on the BBB as well as take care of some local business crisis (mold in the rental!). It was a good week to reassess my travel plans.
First - unless one is REALLY camping and unplugging from the grid and Internet, traveling in a fuel inefficient vehicle from coffee house to coffee house isn't cheap. At all.
Second - it is crucial to drive to a place and then really shift into local (i.e. bike) transport. This begs the question - where can one simply shut down and plug in. Well, during my final days at the corporation, I'd have to go to a city and stay at a friend's place, or stay at a KOA. I am lucky to be blessed with many friends, but I feel guilty about consuming your mojo (i.e. power) too long and KOA aren't as cheap as I imagined - $30/night is better than a hotel, but not exactly the depth of low rent I was hoping for. After I leave the corporation, I can camp in place and start hiking in earnest at camping rates - hopefully asymptotically approaching, but likely not touching, $0.
Third - I must contain and plan my itinerary better or get a more fuel efficient vehicle. Wandering hither and yon at 13-14mpg is simply too expensive. $90/day was my average for a week of travel in the mountainous west. I have a feeling that traveling like this is quite doable in the urban wilderness of the East, but it gets pretty pricing to do a lot of travel between stops. Toyota Sienna or Tacoma look nice and will likely fit into my future business better than a VW van.
More to ponder. I hope to drive out to Portland next week . . . depending on what the other mechanic tells me about the VW. Seems there were a few other problems. . . .
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Van down! Van down!
Well, it has been a hard two days. Who would have thought going from Bellingham to Seattle would be such a long, arduous journey.
Visiting B-ham was fun - if wet, but it was time to move on to the Big City. I was keen to find out how the van would do in a truly urban setting. Well, the fact is - it apparently disagrees with it violently. 1 hour into my drive on I-5 (doing 68mph!), I smelled gas. A very, very strong miasma of gas that was NOT dissipating. I pulled onto the next off-ramp into a convenient parking lot next to a gas station and across from Lowe's.
Getting out of the van I immediately noticed a trail of wet spots following my van. Peering underneath, and holding my breath, there was a large pool of fuel accumulating as more dripped from my now silent VW. I pulled myself into my old overalls (or should I say I stretched the overalls to partially cover my corpulent flesh) - and immediately felt bad about my weight. Sigh. First - confirm it was fuel and not oil. Yup, smelled like fuel but checked the oil level anyway - it was very, very low. So maybe that was the problem?? Continue to troubleshoot...
Anyway crawling around, and tearing up the engine cover, I quickly (ok, not so quickly) discovered the main fuel supply line to the carburetor had fallen free. The fact that the van's engine and body did not burst into flame is amazing.
Remember Lowe's? Hurray - higher power looking out for me. I ran across and got some clips. A lot of clips (just in case) and got to work reattaching the line. Feeling good about my ability to find and fix a problem, I pulled over to the gas station and refueled (back to 12mpg, but most probably spilled onto the road). So I returned to I-5 determined to fix the other problem. You did remember the low oil level, right? Did I mention the bits of metal (hopefully from the o-rings seating around the new pistons). Hello, Jiffy Lube.
A bit of advice - Jiffy Lube may be convenient but it is staffed by people, kids usually, who are not familiar with VWs. I was told, "They don't make 10w-40 anymore. How about 20w-50?" Well, I might be ignorant, but I know what I don't know. I tried some folks - parents (no cells???), mechanics (no pick up), strangers (ran away), and the Jiffy Lube database. No guidance. So I searched the car again - it was no longer organized, anyway - and found some 20w-50 Dad had left in from 1995. Ok, good enough for me, "Fill her up, guys" I saw authoritatively.
$50 worth of fuel, clamps, oil, and oil filter later I was ready to resume my trip south. But now when I drove down the road the car made a new noise. At this point I had highly tuned senses, a decent degree of paranoia, and no music on. Though the VW continually generates a veritable cacophony of whistles, clicks, and chugs that would impress a horde of blind Swahili speakers, this was a NEW sound. A heavy thumping that increased in direct proportion to the pressure I applied to the accelerator. I thought, "I bet that oil is too thick. The sound will go away once it heats up." Guessing and rationalizing is a bad combination.
The BBB's thumping did go away - in the middle of the intersection of Yelis and 6th Ave. My local expert told me later that this was not a good place for a van to lose its forward momentum and will to live. But with every dark cloud, a silver lining seemed to appear. I was pointed downhill with an empty parking lot within coasting range. I even had a homeless man help me out - what a great city!
So 24 hours later my bike rack is on my friend's car, my stuff is in his house, and the van has been fixed of a busted set of bolts that connect its mechanical hipbone to its legbone (I'm paraphrasing here). Apparently these should be tightened down by the person working on them. Whodathunkit? Nothing that money can't fix.
Still, I think it might be time to reconsider the reliability of the BBB for a long distance trip across the West. It could be prudent to test it out locally, Montana locally, before trying again to negotiate the steep hills and mountain passes with a cranky, cantankerous relic. Its not that I don't trust it. Okay, I don't trust it.
More to follow, I promise.
Note to self - new trucks apparently have either no hip bones or those titanium suckers that can be used to rebuild the $10B man. Check 'em out.
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