We stopped for one final post in Oakridge, coming to you from the Trailhead Cafe (which is rad.... and has awesome things posted by the cash register:)
The home stretch of our journey showed us, once again, the magical powers that these tutus have.
Elk Lake was the first site of this magic...
Quite a magical night, y'all. Thanks for hosting, Marty!
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This morning, Courtney, Hannah, and Mieka swam across Elk Lake, shepherded with a support rowboat. It was frickin' awesome and frickin' cold! Cold chillin'!
The ladies of the cabin!
Then, we stopped in Oakridge to fulfill our final costume request: Anything with bikes. We love you, Courtney!
Heather's friend has a wonderful bike shop called Willamette Mountain Mercantile. It seemed like a promising locale. The mechanic on duty let us pose with some of the merchandise...
...before posing himself....
in a tutu ....
with a unicycle!!!
How rad! The talented tutu unicyler was named Eugene (he was another example of an incredibly stoked and friendly person who added to our journey) - a fitting name for the last new friend made on the way home.
So here we are, back in Oregon, with mountains I know and friends literally around the corner. Eugene is a couple of hours down the highway, and just one more stop (Marty's cabin on Elk Lake) is left on our whirlwind tour of the West. Here it is, the end.
Chapter One: Of Tutus and Wi-Fi.
We're having a super blogging marathon today to go along with our super driving marathon yesterday and our super hiking marathon the day before. (So far consumed: 2 breakfast sandwiches, 2 cups of coffee, lots of water, 1 mango smoothie, 1 BLT sandwich, 1 minestrone soup.) Bringing laptops on a road trip (esp. one whose primary destinations were nature and loved ones) seemed counter-productive, and taking time away from those loved ones and natural wonders to spend online... definitely weird. Yet, Mieka and I kept commenting on how good it felt to continually process our trip.
We both keep journals on trips. This helps us stop us from forgetting the literal events of a trip, but also lets us have some sort of personal debrief. Journaling lets me see situations more objectively and give myself feedback, and it lets me air all sorts of emotions. It lets me move on from each day without having to spend a lot of energy remembering things I should do or change or figure out.
This was both Mieka and my first foray into the blogosphere (ahhhh!). Journaling feels like a chore sometimes, and inevitably my journal entries at the end of a trip will be reduced to bullet points. Blogging (tee hee... I still can't get over how silly that looks) has been SO ENTERTAINING!
We get to process our world in such creative ways, putting way more effort into things like cartoons and costumes than we ever would were nobody to see the results.
Our trip had a random, somewhat contrived tutu theme, and computers and internet were an alien presence. My trips into the outdoors usually include a dear-god-get-me-away-from-my-cell-phone mentality. But as a result of these iffy trip partners, we made some very real connections and, at the crux of it, had way more fun.
On one of our hikes, Evan, Mieka, and I talked about the pragmatic importance of silliness. I think Evan pointed out that being goofy promotes connection. The act of bonding with other people, (whether that be friends you've had since kindergarten or strangers on a trail) is one of the very most valued human experiences. We need connection like we need food.
If Mieka and I were just walking along a trail, sans silly, a male passers-by in his forties might feel all sorts of barriers about making a connection. What if they think I'm a creep? What would we talk about? Why would I want to know them anyways? But Mieka and Heather in tutus are inviting. We're already saying "Hey, we're pretty dorky. We are not going to judge you. We are giving you an easy conversation point. We are at least a little interesting." Moreover, being dressed in a tutu says "Play with me." Adults receive far too few opportunities to play.
So with tutus, we made friends with the Thriller ladies, the videographer man, a photographer in Craters of the Moon, and exchanged genuine smiles and short conversations with many others. Having a blog was an easy way for us to build community around us, and a low-commitment and fun way for new acquaintances to follow up. The artifice of costume and technology helped us achieve some of the juiciest bits of our journey.
Chapter Two: All the freaky people make the beauty of the world.
Travel can be a great reminder of people's underlying goodness. Evan's roommates didn't know us, yet did a very good job of at least seeming excited about us taking over their living room for the better part of a week. Here's a thank you comic we made them. (The cheerios box and detail were on their counter and are provided as background information. I'm all for making things easy to apply, but something about the weird phrasing and essential concept of "non-challenge", especially to people about to trudge up a mountain for fun, was just so bizarre.)
Not only were they not grumpy about the stinky gear and people laying about, they were SO COOL.
As an example, here's Bland. He makes art with recycled materials for an organization called, get this, the Center for Wonder. Um, yes! Here, he's making rope out of sequin scrap, the material usually thrown away after making sequins.
Drill + Vegetable peeler + industrial trash + tired hosts + loud guests is not always the recipe for creativity and joy. (Actually, looking back on those ingredients, I could imagine some pretty gnarly outcomes...)
Yet, each of these people were SO PASSIONATE AND FUN. And they showed that to us while sharing their space.
The Tutu sisters extend a huge THANK YOU to Evan, Allison, Bland, and Josh, as well as Thom and Christina, Douj and Antje, and Rogene and Kim.
Chapter Three: Through the Gateway
Heather:
For both Mieka and I, this trip was a way to connect past with future, to celebrate the end of a chapter and usher in a new one. We met in Kindergarten, were best friends traipsing around the woods of Lane County as wee little ones, and have had a wonderful reconnection as friends and roommates in our mid twenties.
Part of this trip was experiencing amazing things with an amazing person. We know each other well, and can get when things have significance, I think, and that has added to our experiences.
For me, also, I wanted something to serve as a ritual for this imminent transition: In this month, I'm leaving the city I grew up in and have left two jobs that have shaped me as much as anything else in my life. Part of my time online this trip has been spent figuring out where I'm going to live, when I'm going to move, and what I'll be doing when I arrive on campus as a student on Monday. (Woah.) Portland is close to Eugene, but it's going to be a new life.
To help make that transition seem more real, I wanted to see the place I started life and to get out into the mountains. Everybody has their favorite method of becoming whole again, of experiencing flow (look up Csikszentmihalyi on Wikipedia or TED.com), of scraping away emotional debris and remembering what life is. Getting outside has always been mine.
Here's how I described it in a postcard/storybook to a friend:
Approximate translation of my choppy Spanish: I know that the moon above the mountains of Vancouver is beautiful, but also, you've gotta see the sunset on the Tetons.
So far on our trip... We made friends in Missoula while drinking beer in the park by the river, (thus the coaster [the storybook is glued onto a coaster]), I saw the tiny clinic where I was born, we sat in hotsprings in Yellowstone during thunder and lightning...
I just finished two jobs that I've been a part of for six years. I feel like I can be just me, without having to be responsible for others.
The funny thing about spending hours upon hours driving desert roads - It gives you time to introspect. I feel ready to enter a new community and rediscover who I am. The people on this trip were nothing short of inspiring. Descending the canyon underneath the Tetons felt like walking down an aisle between ancient sentinels, giving a blessing with their sheer beauty and power.
Mieka:
This trip marks a turning point in my life, as well. I mailed my application to the Escuela Latinoamericana de Medicina in Havana, Cuba, just hours before leaving on the Adventure of the Traveling Tutus. Applying to medical school marked the culmination of my recent 14 month stint as a post-bacc premedical science student at the U of O, where I originally majored in fine arts but always planned to come back. In short, I just finally finished a six year stretch of undergraduate work and it feels huge. This life-long journey I'm on to becoming a doctor has been at times certain and impassioned, and at other times full of doubt and uncertainty. I'm motivated by connection, by empathy, and by beauty, and feel clearly called to medicine. Yet I struggle with the colder aspects of the premedical rat-race. In Cuba I found a program that emphasizes service and educates doctors from around the world, and the idea of studying this way moves me on a soul level. I feel that mailing that application has unleashed my ball of intention out in to the universe, and now I'm just waiting to see what happens next...
In the meantime, I have a year to do absolutely whatever I want. Before I embark on the grand adventure of medical school, there are other parts of myself I'd like to nurture. My main intention this year, as best as I can articulate, is to be present with the flow of the world. I am aware of how hippy-dippy that sounds but bear with me because I can explain - so, what do I mean by flow? I mean those moments of serendipity and coincidence, when everything seems to fall into place. Some times I more easily experience this flow are when making creative work, when connecting with people, and when traveling, among other things. When Heather announced her plans for this trip, I asked if I could hop on board. What more perfect time to go adventuring with one of my favorite people in the world? Plus, I wanted to visit Thom and Evan, too! It was the perfect time to catapult out of my comfortable Eugene life in preparation for a year of exploration, and reconnect with some of the people I hold most dear. An explosive brainstorm over breakfast just days before our departure birthed the tutu blog concept, and voila this awesome creative endeavor began. The tutu premise served as the catalyst for boundless creative expression while we were on the road. As children, Heather and I made up whole worlds together, and our dynamic as a creative team has been such fun to ressurrect in this context. We made time for potent processing with good feedback as well as egged each other on with brainstorms, some of which were acted/drawn out/written about in this blog.
So now we wrap up this chapter, en route to Marty's cabin on elk lake for the night. Tomorrow, we return home to Eugene and Heather will begin her PhD program at PSU on Monday. As for me, I plan to put most of my things in storage, pack my car with art supplies, fiddle, and camping gear, and continue this adventure for the next half a year. I'm trusting that the crucial elements, like money, will all work out as I try this route. I'm excited and in wonder of what will transpire in this next year of life...it's a grand adventure - thanks for coming along.
After four action-packed days in Jackson, we heard Oregon calling our name. It was time to hit the road, but first we dropped Evan off at work to check out the amazing house he's been building all year. Designed with sustainability in mind, the house is a labor of love, and also just a lot of labor. Straw clay construction will keep it well insulated and has proven to be a long process, with the construction crew having to take long breaks in building to let the materials dry out. (This allowed Evan to take some awesome trips in the meantime). The house will also feature radiant floor heating and solar panels to be mostly off the grid, and it has a gorgeous view. It was so neat to get the tour and see Evan's handiwork!
Mind you, this was very early on the morning after our 19.2-mile, late-into-the-evening hike. After saying goodbye to Evan, Heather and I treated ourselves to a breakfast out at the Lotus cafe (great blue corn pancakes!) and took our time returning to a semi-human level of functionality. This is the awesome mirror mosaic at the cafe:
After packing up, mailing post cards, and saying our goodbyes to Evan's roommates, we were finally ready to hit the road. We made it to Idaho before hunger struck again and enjoyed the best burrito ever at a tiny little Taqueria in Idaho Falls. (Las Morenitas if you ever go there)
It was a blisteringly hot afternoon. Somewhere in Idaho, we found the solution to Bernadette's finicky fan:
Bernadette's fan effectively engaged, we flew high into the hazy skies, mesmerized by endless yellow fields with giant square stacks of hay creating a Andrew Wyeth-meets-Lego-blocks kind of landscape.
The balmy golden scene transformed to black beneath us as we landed on the Craters of the Moon...
Rejuvenated after our blissful day of rest, we awoke at 5am to a still-starry sky and proceeded to rally for our 19-mile hike. Heather busted her amazing driving skills and Bernadette once again did her best impression of an ATV as we headed down from Shadow mountain to the trail head by String Lake. We packed like rockstars, choosing to bring just enough food and gear to stay the night survival style should we need to, but still maintain a super light happy day hike load, which was totally sweet. I've been recovering from a back injury and so I'm a big fan of being nice to my back and carrying lighter loads. We were also able to purify water as we went, so we were able to drink all we wanted and we never carried more than two liters at one time even though our hoofing-it hike led us to drink over six liters throughout the day.
Once our tutus were packed, we were ready to go. The epic walk began as the sun was coming up, back-lighting the magical mist off of String Lake as the mountains were perfectly reflected in the still morning water. (cue angels once again). Our plan was to head up Paintbrush Canyon, past Holly Lake, up and over Paintbrush divide, say what's up to Lake Solitude and then head on out Cascade, the best route to drink in astonishing views of the Tetons and surrounding peaks from all angles.
We stopped periodically to practice our ninja moves, and munch on wild berries.
The scenery was jaw-droppingly beautiful, and every time we said "Wow!" we stopped to take a picture. A few of the best from the ascent up to Holly Lake:
I had my first lesson with map and compass, and we kept getting our bearings throughout the day! What an empowering experience, thanks Heather!
Scrumptiousness break at Holly Lake, well worth packing in the messy messy pesto...
Cresting a switchback on the ascent up paintbrush divide, we were delighted to meet some friendly snow.
We played in it for a while, and made this picture for our favorite snow loving kayaking fools. Ben and Melinda, wish you were here!
Hiking in tutus proved to be great fun...there is no end to the entertaining aspect of swishing tulle to offset the huffing-puffing challenge of hiking up scree and talus. The tutus powered us all the way to the summit!
Exhilarated, and happy to be standing pretty darn near the top of this continent, plenty of frolicking ensued...
After thoroughly romping on the top of the world, we began to make our descent. Suddenly, the universe conspired to assemble the most magical event in the history of tutu backpacking. First, a fellow hiking up the trail stopped to marvel at and photograph our costumed passage. Next, the two girls hiking behind us caught up to our photo shoot and promptly became our new best friends. They were hiking with an Ipod-rigged scare-the-bears-boombox, and we all agreed that this moment called for a dance party. Alicia, our new BFF, cued up Thriller and they mentioned that they needed to learn the dance to perform for a birthday party the following week. Luckily, I know the entire thing. (knowing Thriller is fast proving to be an essential life skill) Stoked hiker dude agreed to video, and we had a quick rehearsal on the trail:
After our run-through, Michael Jackson moonwalked down from his cloud over the Grand Teton and gave us a couple pointers. Our zombie style now perfected, we were ready to rock. Ladies and Gentlemen, hold on to your hats, as the Tetons have never seen the likes of this before:
The ridiculous perfection of this happening fueled enough giggles to make the rest of the hike a breeze, well at least a lot of it. We still had ten miles to go, and a disproportionate amount of daylight left. The one sacrifice made for the art of "Tutus Thrill the Tetons" was our camera's battery, so these were the last pictures we managed before the camera pooped out completely.
Yeah, hiking! Heather here for a verbal-only telling of the last half of the day
We realized that our current pace would get us back to the car about 11:00 pm and started booking it back to the car. For the last six miles, we speed-walked and sang nonstop to keep bears at bay. What a beautiful hike out! The sun was setting behind us as we walked beside a stream bed. We were done with the scree and steep slopes, but the mountains still towered above us.
Mountains in Oregon are miles and miles across, their slopes covered (when not snowy) in bushes, then trees, then dirt, possibly breaking out into craggy rock spires at the very top. The Tetons soar up from the ground. You can see the layers of limestone and granite (wild stab at pretending to know what the rocks are....total guess), mountains stripped to the core. You have to crane your head back to be able to see their tops, seemingly directly above you. I was doing this, checking out the alpenglow (again, imagine angel chorus sounds...) and my thought process was something like this:
[Singing Flake by Jack Johnson loudly with Mieka]
Wow. Check out how glowy and awesome the tops of all these mountains are. Ahhhh.
[Noise of something many, many times larger than me smashing bushes directly in front of me]
[Sight of something very big and brown less than 10 feet away]
Oh, that's not good. Is that a bear?
"HEY!"
It was not a bear (Whew!), instead, it was a cow moose with her adolescent calf. After hearing me yell, they begrudgingly walked off the path a few feet. We watched them, amazed, for a long time before they moved on. Like the bison, they were totally unconcerned by us, which felt weird, and were so mezmerizing.
We later saw two more moose, including a bull, all munching on bushes and all with the attitude of "Yo, you're in my living room". The knowledge that very, very large animals were in the bushes around us drove us to up the decibel level on the singing.
At one point, we were on a narrow horse trail through tall bushes, and we both had the feeling that a hungry bear or angry moose or tardy dinosaur could leap out at any time. We belted every Disney song we could think of (and every other song) until getting back to the more open and populated area near the trailhead. There, we checked out the stars.
Recommendation: Check out the stars tonight. Even if you're in a city, spend a couple of minutes checking out that dazzle. Pick one of the group of stars and learn a constellation. Having acquaintances in an inspiring sky is a good feeling.
We finally got back to the car at about 9:30, and Mieka drove back. 19.2 miles with about 2000 feet of elev gain in combination with early wake-up turned us into real zombies....but stoked, contented, inspired zombies.
I'm sure the dance would have been even better then.
