Shenandoah Valley

Jeff and I decided to check out the "other" mountain range this past weekend. After three years of hiking in the Rockies we were excited to experience something different but were skeptical of the wow-ness factor we felt these last three years in the west. Nonetheless we were excited to get out in nature. For both of us it is a means of renewal, a time to celebrate the simple things and reevaluate our goals and priorities. (It also makes the futon we're sleeping on this year that much more luxurious.)

After driving about an hour and a half west we reached Shenandoah National Park and began our 12 mile trek. The next several hours Jeff and I talked about our past week and wondered how old these mountains were and how a spider makes that first string of web from one tree trunk to another at least a foot away -- wind? But mostly we walked in silence -- lost in our own thoughts or just zoning, not thinking about anything, just putting one foot in front of another, subconsciously breathing in the fresh air. Each step I took felt like I was walking on something hollow-- the dull and deep sound that comes from stepping on hundreds of years of decomposing leaves and trees and animals. These mountains far exceeded my expectations -- the Rockies felt like a rebellious teenage boy compared to the wise, grandmotherly nature of the Appalachians. The rocks were smooth and rounded and discolored with growing moss. They've witnessed the beavers and deer and the Cherokee. They've witnessed the civil war and the Great Depression. They've witnessed the thousands of people meandering through the trails -- coming from all walks of life -- contemplating their lives -- just the way I was doing. In the Rockies, I felt awed by the expansive views. In the Appalachians, I felt hugged by a wise old woman -- comforted and loved unconditionally.

I was once again reminded how we are all connected. How life can be really simple and complex at the same time. How we live in absolute paradox -- so much so that we can only leave it to mystery. And how I'm fully satisfied with mystery-- one of my gifts....

Then we saw the bear. Actually we heard it first. It took a quick look at us and we took a quick look at it and then it ran away. After a full minute we started walking again clapping our hands, shouting out "hey bear".... just in case he had other family members close by. It was exhilarating.

When we got to the camp site we realized that I forgot to pack our duffle bag full of clothes and our tent poles. (oops) Jeff showed just how amazing of a husband he was by rallying (he was seriously thinking about driving home right then) and ignoring the fact that I forgot some of the most important things we need for a camping trip (it turns out tent poles are critical to tent formation.) After a great supper of grilled salmon and green beans and hot chocolate we played with the fire for an hour or two. (This is when Jeff reverts to his 11 year old boy phase.) Then we ended up sleeping under the stars with only the sleeping bag separating us from our bodies and the dirt, our bodies and the stars.


This was just before we saw the bear about 20 feet to the right of us.


Great view...




I was stupid and thought it would be fine if I hiked 12 miles with just my chacos. I was wrong. You can see my anticipation of pure bliss right before I put my feet in the cool water



We grilled salmon and fresh green beans for dinner. yum.



our camp site



Not only did I forget our duffle bag of our clothes, toothpaste, and extra shoes, but I also forgot our tent poles. Thank goodness it was a beautiful night so we had a great night sleeping under the stars

Thanksgiving at our place!

I know it's a bit early to be thinking of Thanksgiving but my family (Mom, Dad, Andrea, and her boyfriend Rene) just purchased tickets to fly out to our place for the holiday.

And did you see our apartment? Yep -- it's still tiny. And yep -- we still don' t have a table to eat at. And nope -- our stove and fridge and dishwasher are not as big as normal kitchen appliances. But that makes it all the more exciting. It will be romantic and cozy and fun. We'll all sit around our coffee table -- some of us on the floor. But there will be candles and good wine (provided by the parents) and amazing company. At least that's what I imagine....

Obama's book on race

I just finished reading Dreams from My Father by Barack Obama.

I was expecting a typical book written by a politician --more pontification than actual substance. But those expectations got turned upside down from the very beginning. Maybe it's because when Obama wrote this book, he wasn't a politician yet...maybe it's because he's someone that really can go beyond politics as usual (I'm more cynical about this than most people my age.) I don't know.

What I do know is that Obama was able to deeply probe an extremely complex web of race on a personal, familial, national, and global level...all at the same time. I'm wowed. I finished the book in three days and a little sad it's all over....

Here's a quote from the end of the book

I dropped to the ground and swept my hand across the smooth yellow tile. Oh, Father, I cried. There was no shame in your father's before you. No shame in the fear, or in the fear of his father before him. There was only shame in the silence fear had produced. It was the silence that betrayed us. If it weren't for that silence, your grandfather might have told your father that he could never escape himself, or re-create himself alone. Your father might have taught those same lessons to you. And you, the son, might have taught your father that this new world that was beckoning all of you involved more than just railroads and indoor toilets and irrigation ditches and gramaphones, lifeless instruments that could be absorbed into the old ways. You might have told him that these instruments carried with them a dangerous power, that they demanded a different way of seeing the world. That this power could be absorbed only alongside a faith born out of hardship, a faith that wasn't new, that wasn't black or white or Christian or Muslim but that pulsed in the heart of the first African village and the first Kansas homestead -- a faith in other people.

Click here to listen to an interview on Colorado Matters. It features Dr. Vincent Harding and his views on the correlation between Sen. Barack Obama's acceptance speech coming up at the DNC and Dr. Martin Luther King's "I have a Dream Speech". The acceptance speech will happen on the 45th year anniversary of the Dream speech.

Dr. Harding is a wise man that worked with King and I've had the privilege to be in class with him at Iliff.

our latest dinners

these are the tomatoes and basil we bought at the farmers market yesterday. The best tomatoes I've had in a long time...




they had several different kinds of tomatoes to try and they all tasted unique in their own tomato-y way. It was fascinating!




this was a different dinner that we made -- spring rolls. Good friends of ours gifted us with rice noodles and spring roll wrappers. We had lots of spring rolls filled with shrimp, lettuce, cilantro, mint, cucumber, and rice noodles. Then we dipped into a peanut sauce. yum.