Alexandersmap

    Category: Travel

    • Unattempted Adventures

      “When the first light dawned on the earth, and the birds awoke, and the brave river was heard rippling confidently seaward, and the nimble early rising wind rustled the oak leaves about our tent, all men, having reinforced their bodies and their souls with sleep, and cast aside doubt and fear, were invited to unattempted adventures.” – Henry David Thoreau, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers

      There’s finally, blessedly, a plan. Places to be, filled with uncertainty and doubt, in the very near future. With one eye on the variants and another on the weather, reservations and bookings complete. There’s new hope for a return to attempting the previously dreamed of. New adventure awaits.

      The moment Thoreau wrote of above took place when he was a young man, before his brother passed away from tetanus, before he wrote Walden or Civil Disobedience. Just a couple of young adventurers waking up along the Merrimack River in Tyngsborough, Massachusetts ready to take on their previously unattempted. It captures that moment of waking up excited and recharged and bursting to get out there and do what you’ve been scheming to do. It’s a more comma-intensive version of my favorite Thoreau quote of all:

      “Rise free from care before the dawn and seek adventures.”

      It should be no surprise to readers of this blog that I’m scheming again. Ready and willing to burst from this big empty nest of a tent and get out in the world again. Big adventures planned for September and October. Micro adventures to fill the gaps, beginning immediately. Room for a pivot here and there, to be sure, but if you don’t plan it and take the leap you’ll just put it off for another day that may never come.

      When you woke up this morning and took stock of the world around you, did it give you a bit of a thrill? If you aren’t buzzing with anticipation, what are you waiting for? Cast aside your doubt and fear and get to it already. Tackle those unattempted adventures.

    • When We Walk

      “When we walk like (we are rushing), we print anxiety and sorrow on the earth. We have to walk in a way that we only print peace and serenity on the earth… Be aware of the contact between your feet and the earth. Walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

      “When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall?” – Henry David Thoreau, Walking

      I’ve been walking on pavement too often recently. The mileage is good but the spirit is muted. Your feet have a hard time connecting you to the earth when there’s three inches of asphalt separating you from it. Still, walking on asphalt is better than being indoors all day, and to be honest, I’ve experienced too much of that lately.

      One recent walk took me along the Cape Cod Canal for six miles. Visually it was striking with a parade of yachts and commercial vessels streaming past on a particularly busy day. And the company was certainly good. But that connection to the earth was missing on those paved bike paths.

      Maybe walks on pavement are better than nothing, but like Henry I wonder what becomes of us when we aren’t off in the fields and woods. The more we connect our feet to the earth and cover ground the more we hear our own voice. Walking flushes the toxins out of your body and soul. Sitting all the time, as we do these days with our desk jobs and a return to commuting robs us of that flushing and the ick pools up inside of us until we once again get up and out.

      Today is a good day for a walk.

    • The How of Things

      “We humans live in two worlds. First, there is the outer world of appearances—all of the forms of things that captivate our eye. But hidden from our view is another world—how these things actually function, their anatomy or composition, the parts working together and forming the whole. This second world is not so immediately captivating. It is harder to understand. It is not something visible to the eye, but only to the mind that glimpses the reality. But this “how” of things is just as poetic once we understand it—it contains the secret of life, of how things move and change.”
      – Robert Greene, Mastery

      You might read a paragraph like the one above with the eye of a scientist, seeing the truth through the lens of composition of matter and chemical reaction and such. You might read it through the eyes of a politician or businessperson, immediately grasping the backroom deals and favors that occur well before the headlines catch the attention of the public. Or you might read it with the eye of an artist, seeing the structure of the words themselves and how they spin magic in their unique assembly on the page. There is indeed poetry in the how.

      There’s a light that dawns when you see this other side of things, this secret sauce of how and why things are the way they are. Lessons learned through experience and intelligent observation and time invested in the questions of how. Some people receive the gift of a curious mind early in life and immerse themselves in the wonder of how, but most of us are too dazzled by the sleight of hand to focus on how the magician does the trick.

      There’s magic in the how. Watch Paul McCartney at a mixing board isolating bits of a Beatles song and you learn the intricate composition and experimentation that went into crafting it. The magic seems to sparkle on the surface, but it’s much deeper than you might hear in a first listen. The final product is an illusion built on layers of sonic novelty and gumption. The joy lies in discovering things you missed the first dozen times you heard a song.

      The magic lies in the mix. What we see on the surface is only the tip of the iceberg. Dive deeper into the how.

    • The Fight for an Open Mind

      “What prevents people from learning... is not the subject itself—the human mind has limitless capabilities—but rather certain learning disabilities that tend to fester and grow in our minds as we get older. These include a sense of smugness and superiority whenever we encounter something alien to our ways, as well as rigid ideas about what is real or true, often indoctrinated in us by schooling or family. If we feel like we know something, our minds close off to other possibilities. We see reflections of the truth we have already assumed. Such feelings of superiority are often unconscious and stem from a fear of what is different or unknown. We are rarely aware of this, and often imagine ourselves to be paragons of impartiality” – Robert Greene, Mastery

      My quest for an open, more aware mind bumps into smugness. I’ve run into this demon before. We so easily spot smugness in others but rarely detect it in ourselves. It appears as artificial confidence and a sense of superiority and are the tools of a closed mind. As such they ought to be snuffed out at all costs. But the mind buries them defensively, knowing your game, and you perceive yourself as open in your comfortable world until that world is challenged once again.

      I see it in myself by the things I’m offended by. A cache of grudges based on perceived slights, which usually betrays something about your relationship with that person, culture or perspective. This cache, like the one on your PC, occupies space that might otherwise be used for stretching the mind in new directions. And isn’t that the real goal? Opening the mind, becoming aware, delighting in the world around us – if these are truly the objective then we have no room for walls built of resentment, fear and superiority.

      “Around us, life bursts with miracles–a glass of water, a ray of sunshine, a leaf, a caterpillar, a flower, laughter, raindrops. If you live in awareness, it is easy to see miracles everywhere. Each human being is a multiplicity of miracles. Eyes that see thousands of colors, shapes, and forms; ears that hear a bee flying or a thunderclap; a brain that ponders a speck of dust as easily as the entire cosmos; a heart that beats in rhythm with the heartbeat of all beings. When we are tired and feel discouraged by life’s daily struggles, we may not notice these miracles, but they are always there.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

      What are we missing while we wrap our minds are distracted by our own narrative? What miracles are happening around us even as we dwell on the past? These are the stakes. We must hunt and kill our smugness to open the mind for awareness, empathy and a deeper understanding of the world around us. To see at last what we’ve been missing all along. And in pursuing it to finally understand ourselves.

    • The Great Falmouth Drop-Off

      Every year, except for last year, I find myself crawling along in a traffic jam just after dawn, patiently waiting for an opportunity to drop off a car full of runners for the Falmouth Road Race. As a committed non runner, it’s admittedly an odd position to put myself in. But we do what we must for those we love.

      The Falmouth Road Race was established in 1973, beginning at one bar and winding seven picturesque miles along the coast to another bar. It quickly became a destination race for a mix of international runners, including Olympians and elite runners, but largely recreational runners of varying abilities. That bit about beginning at one bar and ending at another is an important piece of information. For it means moving thousands of runners from one place to another at the beginning of the day. Which brings us to the great drop-off.

      Runners gather at the Lawrence School in Falmouth for the bus ride to Woods Hole for the start of the race. Runners are supposed to be at the school by 7 AM, which creates a crush of traffic most years as those seeking a parking spot mix with those dropping off runners. Add in thousands of runners walking from local homes and inns and you’ve got a recipe for gridlock as all navigate the local neighborhoods in this small town.

      2021, with a reduced number of participants, lightened the traffic considerably, but it didn’t eliminate it. This is the price you pay for participation in a great race, with both a local and international vibe. For all the madness, everyone is there to have a good time on a summer day.

      After dropping off runners spectators strategically position themselves at key viewing spots. My preferred location gives me a chance to see my favorite runners twice: just after the 6 mile mark and again at the finish. Don’t tell anyone though, it’s already getting pretty crowded here. With COVID considerations addressed, isn’t it nice being around people again?

    • Follow the Trail and Scatter Light

      Man dreams one day to fly
      A man takes a rocket ship into the sky
      He lives on a star that’s dying in the night
      And follows in the trail, the scatter of light
      – U2, In A Little While

      There are moments in an album or a book or an evening when you recognize the magic. Emotion wells up in you, stirring and amplifying feelings, sending you to another place. A higher place, maybe, or a darker place should the moment direct you that way. I keep climbing to higher places, hoping the view is better. Hoping I’ll become better in the process. And some of it ends up here in this blog.

      U2 hit me a few times over with All That You Can’t Leave Behind. Opening with the hit, dropping in a mournful homage to Michael Hutchence and then the heart pounding Elevation. This was the U2 I’d missed in their experimental days of the late 90’s. These were songs that stuck with you. Ear worms if you will. And then they hit you with Walk On, which grabbed me by the throat waiting for a flight from LA to Boston. When Bono starts singing “Home, hard to know where it is if you’ve never had one” while sleepily waiting for a red eye flight home… well, I’ll never hear the song the same again.

      For all that, the second half of the album is admittedly weaker. And for me, In A Little While became the unconscious end. For it was this song that got that emotion welling, that stirred and amplified those feelings. When Bono sings “Slow down my bleeding heart” I’m right with him, and I know it hit others the same way. That’s the power of a moment.

      Bono stated at one of the concerts U2 recorded that Joey Ramone’s family told him In A Little While was the song that he listened to in hospice, which changed the song for Bono, the guy who wrote it, from a hung over dolt going home at the end of the night to something bigger. Something more meaningful. I never heard the song as anything but soul-stirring, which just goes to show, art might begin with the artist, but it becomes whatever the audience wants it to be.

      I think about that as I write. About reaching moments of emotional connection in my writing. About crafting something of depth and substance, something that amplifies that nugget of desire or fear or love in your soul. Surely I’m a work in progress, but still climbing. Following the trail and scattering light. Still dreaming of flying.

    • Towards Exciting Things

      “That’s the whole secret: to do things that excite you.” – Ray Bradbury

      Truth be told, there are many things we do every day that aren’t exciting, yet we keep on doing them anyway. This is the attractive rut of doing the same thing: familiar and predictable and comfortable. But does it stir the soul?

      If we agree that life is short, shouldn’t we pursue that which excites us? I know, we’ve all gotta make a living, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t find the fun in both work and living. And if life is short, why waste years of it doing things that bore you to tears? Shake yourself out of the rut and dive into the deep work. The meaningful and enlightening. The exciting stuff.

      For most of us, exciting is reserved for vacations and weekends. I should think a healthy dose of exciting ought to be injected into each day. Too bold an ask? What are we here for if not to feel the thrill of stepping beyond your comfort zone? Too old? When are you going to get younger than now? If not now, when? If we’re going to slowly fade, why not use our brightest days moving towards exciting things?

      Really, this shouldn’t be that much of a secret.

    • What Dies With You?

      “Imagine if you will being on your death bed – And standing around your bed – the ghosts of the ideas, the dreams, the abilities, the talents given to you by life.

      And that you for whatever reason, you never acted on those ideas, you never pursued that dream, you never used those talents, we never saw your leadership, you never used your voice, you never wrote that book.

      And there they are standing around your bed looking at you with large angry eyes saying we came to you, and only you could have given us life! Now we must die with you forever.

      The question is – if you die today what ideas, what dreams, what abilities, what talents, what gifts, would die with you? ” – Les Brown

      You may have heard a version of this in a Denzel Washington commencement speech with something like 40 million views, but the framework for this story is older than that, and as far as I can tell, Les Brown was the first to tell it. And honestly, his version flows better than Denzel’s, and thus quotes better.

      I’ve been thinking about this lately myself. Whether to keep blogging or focus on the bigger writing I want to do. Whether to travel and explore to the level I want to or defer until some undefined, unlikely time in the future. Asking myself, what do you finish when you don’t have an infinite lifetime?

      Questions demand answers. Most of us distract ourselves from thinking about these things. Our lives are filled with white noise and busywork, but eventually we need to reckon with our ghosts.

      What dreams, abilities, talents and gifts will die with you? We can’t do everything in life, but surely we can do more. So what will you bring to life before you go?

    • No Likeness to That Human World Below

      You ask me:
      Why do I live
      On this green mountain?
      I smile
      No answer
      My heart serene
      On flowing water
      Peachblow
      Quietly going
      Far away
      Another earth
      This is
      Another sky
      No likeness
      To that human world below
      ~Li Po, On The Mountain: Question And Answer
      (translated by C.H. Kwôck & Vincent McHugh)

      Three days later and I’m still on a mountaintop. The aches and pains fade but the glow of walking the ridge line between peaks stays with me. And I wonder at this world I’ve created for myself, pressed in close to a desk, laptop at the ready, always asking for more. The mountains don’t ask for anything of you, but it’s understood that they demand respect.

      Solo hiking, for all the social abuse I receive for it, offers meditation and a connection to the mountains that you don’t get with even the quietest, most reverent hiking buddy. So occasionally I like to indulge in time alone on trails, walking until my own voice finally stops talking to me and I begin at last to listen to the song of the infinite.

      Yet you’re never quite alone in the mountains. There’s always a fellow hiker on a pilgrimage of their own, with a knowing look and a brief exchange before turning their attention back to the trail. The mountains aren’t entirely about solitude, for there are more people than ever on the trails. And every one of us with a reason for being up there.

      There’s an energy that you draw on when hiking with others. A momentum of common purpose, shared struggle, and shared beliefs. I do like hiking with others, quite a lot, and look forward to sharing the mountains with them again soon. Just give me a moment alone with this sky before I reluctantly descend to that human world below. Where I’ll plot my return.

    • Hiking Passaconaway & Whiteface

      Hot, muggy August days create hazy, sweaty conditions for hiking, with a dash of risk for thunderstorms. But it’s been six long months since I’d last hiked a 4000 footer, and I was way overdue to notch one or two more. The question then is, who do you hike with? For me, the answer for this day was to hike solo. I needed to work out the rust of hiking on granite again without feeling the obligation of keeping pace. And more importantly, I needed the mental space that hiking offers after another half a year of working during a pandemic.

      My thoughts on hiking alone aside, I didn’t want to drive an extra hour to find the less crowded peaks of the northern White Mountains. So my focus turned to Mounts Passaconaway and Whiteface, each part of the Sandwich range and relatively close with relatively good elbow room. And planned my hike the way most people seem to do it, to hike Mount Whiteface first and then loop around to Mount Passaconaway afterwards. Plans are lovely things, aren’t they?

      When you’re hiking on a trail and come across a spot where you can either haul yourself over a boulder or bypass it entirely by taking the worn path around it, which do you choose? The answer is subjective, isn’t it? It depends on the size of the boulder. It depends on the condition of the worn path around it. And it depends on your mood at the time. My mood at the time I reached the Tom Wiggins trail was such that when I read the sign warning that the trail was not recommended because it was “steep and loose” I paused for a couple of minutes to consult my trail map, contemplate the implications to the overall mileage I’d do that day, and opt for the out and back option instead of the loop. This decision added almost five miles to my hike, and I’d second-guess it the rest of the day, but sometimes you have to trust your gut.

      Decision Time

      Decision made, I hiked the Dicey Mill Trail to the junction of the Rollins Trail, where I had another choice to make: knock off summitting Mount Passaconaway first, or hike over to Mount Whiteface via the Rollins Trail and save Passaconaway for last? And here I made another choice that I’d second guess the rest of the day. I chose Whiteface, and hiked the 2.3 miles over to the cairn that marked the summit, went past it to the next trail junction and then turned around and hiked all the way back to where I’d begun. Far simpler to have just knocked off Passaconaway while the legs were fresh. It would have given me the option of descending the Tom Wiggins Trail (which was admittedly advertised as steep and loose). I may still have doubled back, but at least I’d have the option. Anyway, these are the hindsight options you think about as you’re sweating through your hiking shirt and feeling your knees and ankles remind you of your choices in life.

      This out and back hike wasn’t all that challenging, it was just long. And that’s exactly what I’d signed up for back at that sign. Sometimes you have to make peace with your decisions in life, and I’m okay with this one. Seeing comparable hikers who started right in front of me finishing the loop I’d contemplated after me, I recognized that either option was fine. I’ll hike the steep and loose section another day, probably in winter when the only part that matters is steep.

      This was my non-traditional hike of two more 4000 footers. I know if I’d hiked with friends I’d have just done the loop I’d planned all along, but sometimes you’ve got to just go it alone. And live with your choices along the way.

      Second Decision
      Summit of Whiteface