I'll miss you, Dusty. Miss you a great deal...
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I'll miss you, Dusty. Miss you a great deal...
Since I've spent the better part of the last two years surrounded by snow and ice, one might think that I could stand a break from it in warmer climes. Instead, the fact that I'm currently getting buried out in Boulder, CO and spent a chunk of the morning laughing as I kicked through a foot of fluff, well, I've missed this style. I don't have the multitude of words for different types as the Inuit do but I certainly know that they're correct in categorizing. This is perfect snowball/snowshoe/cross-country skiing weather.
Tonight, when the snow is still falling and it carpets the sounds of the city, I'll go out walking in that muffled comfort.
For now, I'll be working from home (spreadsheets, documentation, and email, oh my!) and enjoying the view.
So in the past, trying to clean the comment sections of this site up from a plague of spam, I accidentally killed a great deal of entries. Most of them were from the start of this mess of words, from my first season on the ice in 2003. Thanks to the magic of the WayBack Machine, however, I've been able to reconstruct the missing entries - spelling mistakes, early (poor) writing, and all.
Strange to think that back in early 2003 my site was one of thousands upon thousands being cataloged in an attempt to "preserve" the internet. Strange that I've a few magnetic bits floating around in petabyte upon petabyte (that's lots upon lots) of information in a server room in San Francisco. Strange that for all the preservation being done, it's so fragile (a whole discussion on the archeological ramifications of our digital storage of current history). Strange indeed, but satisfied.
Satisfied that I've got a few old entries back - that there is an equivalent feeling to finding old journals once lost again. Even if I may not be immensely proud of what they contain, they still contain me. I'd rather not lose that small bit of memory, that small piece of my soul.
So some of you have seen my email and Facebook update/spam requesting help already. For those of you how missed it, here's one more run:
I've an idea in my head for a trip that I'll be going on from June to August, one that will be finalizing itself in the next couple of months. A human-powered trip to discover the human power that drives Minnesota. I'll be spending the summer bicycling throughout the state, interviewing as many people as possible, striving to listen to a cross-section of folks and seeking to learn how Minnesota is tying into the green technology revolution, into sustainable agriculture and community-sponsored movements. The path I'll travel by will follow state parks for camping, the interviews I want to tackle, and by weddings of friends and family that are not too be missed. What I'm interested in, as I build the details of this trip up, are brainstorms and thought-wanders, are connections and interesting people, be they you, a friend of yours, or an acquaintance. I'm well open to suggestions now, to ideas and thoughts, so if you've a moment and wish to be involved on any level, send your reflections my way. Feel free to pass this on to others you know - to spread the search for folk attached to the movements I mentioned or just plain intriguing folk. Send me stories, ideas, new branches to explore...I'll have ninety days to learn about the state of my birth, to listen, to breath it in, to write, to think - and no telling what may come of it. I may be working with radio and magazines, I may publish with local papers, I may form up a book - or I might just drink it in with a giant grin and share what of it I can.
Here are the areas of focus I'd most like to pursue (and where I'd most like your suggestions) but if something outside of this stands out to you - launch it my direction anyway:
- Individuals/groups to speak with in the areas of the green technology movement (non-profits, windmill co-ops, solar projects, hydro, alternative fuels, sustainability pursuits, soil conservation, rural projects, urban projects, etc.)
- Individuals/groups to speak with in the areas of community and sustainable agricultural movements (local food co-ops, community sponsored agriculture, successful and consistent farmers markets, anyone sharing information we might be losing over time such as canning, salt-curing meats, non-industrial farming techniques, local organic or natural farmers and farming methods, etc.)
- Individuals who you feel are making a major difference in the growth and success of Minnesota, regardless of political, religious, or socio-economic background, powerful characters that inspire others, teachers, community leaders, forward-thinking folk whose goals strive to make Minnesota a better place.
- Things not to miss - places to see in the state be they natural or manmade, the hidden bits that only locals in an area may know such as the Dam Pie Store by Rapidan, Pillow Rock in Ely, or the Graffiti Graveyard in Duluth.
- Ideas on what to pursue related to green tech and sustainability, communities not to skip, and if you'd just like me to pop in for a visit.
I'll be trying to document as much of this trip online as possible (working on a couple of pursuits for internet access while out and about) - putting up interviews, thoughts, a up-to-date mapping of where I am, of who I'm going to be speaking with next. In short, I've a lot cut out to do by June. But then, if I'm not running harried to get the next thing done, I might learn what it's like to be bored...
You can email me at nathan<-AT->noblehobo<-DOT->com (replace the funky bits with the usual @ character and a period) or leave a comment here. Hope to hear from you soon!
Came across a small town in the mountains the other day, a throwback to libertarian ideals and isolation, escaping the modern world. It's a rough town - compiled of gravel, dirt, and old gold-mining grit, abandoned cars, and decrepit homes. There are more than a few dwellings that were once a vehicle, now-parked, now the foundation for something much larger, much more permanent. The smell of woodsmoke is strong and the general store is just that - very small, and very general - just enough of the staples to get by, in a building that is smaller than most suburban sheds.
Those who dwell there are a balanced breed of redneck and intellectual - all there to determine their own path over any other, to avoid the dictates of disagreed-with laws, and to claim ownership to a space as much as an idea. Trespassing, picture-taking, sight-seeing gawking - these are discouraged passively through the crude, worn look and actively with shrewd eyes, loud voices, and the occasional gun shot. They are not to be easily trifled with.
The county whose jurisdiction they fall under largely leaves them be, coming if called for domestic abuse or something more severe. Generally, they police themselves through restorative justice - i.e. if a resident was drinking and driving and hit a corner of someone's house, a town arbiter would work out what one party need do to restore balance. No cops, no court, no fine - just restoration of the original situation by way of reparation to the victim. They carry their own fire department and their own "police". When a public building was defaced by kids not long back, it was repainted within twelve hours...a strange contrast in a town where many homes have not been painted at all, still covered in the colors of where the paneling and wood were scavenged from.
Gardens sprout in homemade greenhouses and south facing windows, treasures and beautiful rooms are hidden behind ugly exteriors, the ratio of doctorates to general population is eccentrically high, and while not everyone agrees, they all hold toe against a line when something threatens what they have. There's even a pirate radio station that residents tune in to when something untoward is going on, when outsiders linger. More than one home had a wolf standing out front (gentle giant, the one I met).
They tell me that the fourth of July around town holds a special flair - a spectacular mess of explosions, alcohol, the local fire brigade on speed, and enough gun fire in the air to resemble something closer to armageddon than a fireworks display. It's too bad I won't be around to see it.
The mountains are like that - hiding something different around each cornice, in each valley. I've lived on the edge of them before (in Sequoia) but have never moved further into the interior like this, have never begun to grasp the expanse of granite and grit that the Rocky Mountains are. Like Lake Superior is very good at doing, they remind me that I am a small being. They leave me humbled as I stand atop them, a fragile creature in the cold wind, a thankful presence on their ridge-top seat.
One other good thing about mountain drives and crisp air? There is little better to listen to new music to. These days its the newest Weakerthans album, Ben Folds' Way To Normal, some Hobo Nephews, Washington, the Into The Wild soundtrack by Eddie Vedder, older Regina Spektor, and new hip hop out of Minneapolis by Dessa (an interview on MPR - the hip hop starts around 5 min in).
Windows down, tight curves at good speeds, hands pounding out the rhythms, head bouncing, smile flaring - there isn't much of a downside. Just sunburn...