a mUSE yourself

previously i wrote about a photograph. I figured I'd poke around in my past. In the same roll are photos of the Kate Wolf Festival, and the month I spent up on San Juan Island riding around on a thrift store bicycle. I hit a deer on that bike. I have the scars to prove it. I worked in some tourist bar. Here are the journal entries

8.16.220
I knew I was unprepared. I forgot to pack a stove, a
knife, plate/bowl, utensils, sunglasses... I could go
on and bore you, but I wont. I also didn't do much
research into this trip. All I know is I am here on
San Juan Island. It is beautiful. The place I am
staying at is practically a douglas fir forest. All
thanks to my good friend SaraJane who hooked me up
with a few of her friends.
When I arrived in Seattle finding the hostel was easy.
Deciding what to do with my day was not. I had
arrived early and couldn't check in, so I stored my
bags and headed off.
I called Kym's (a co-worker at the coffee shop in
Fairfax) parents to see if I could pick up her bike.
See I had learned a bike is an efficient way to get
around the San Juan Islands. I thought Kym is from
Seattle maybe I can use her bike! She said it would
be fine) I got ahold of Bill, Kym's father, on his
cell phone. He had a friendly voice... he told me to
call him back in a half hour because he wasn't home,
but he'd head there get the bike and drop it off for
me. I was taken back at how giving he was to a total
stranger.
I strolled along the waterfront playing my charango
for unimpressed passer byes. I planned to walk down
to pier 69 where the Victoria Clipper (the boat I took
to the islands) docks. I was pretty far along when I
realized I needed to be back at the hostel to hook up
with Bill. On my way back I called Bill he told me
his other daughter had sold the bike at a garage sale,
but he wanted to go out and buy a bike that I could
borrow. WOW! I couldn't believe my ears. I told him
I'd search for a bike at a thrift store. I was having
a hard time deciphering friggin' addresses. I went by
area codes... I finally found a place that looked like
it was pretty close Value Village. I called them up
and they said they did indeed have bikes... "how
much?" "$12.99- $29.99"
They gave me directions "get off at Broadway and
pine it's to the right just past Kentucky Fried
Chicken"
I was out the door in a flash. ROSS loomed. I ran in
and got some cheesey sun glasses.
The bus stop was just around the corner. The bus
driver had one of those voices that are all gravely
like Tom Waits, but more high pitched and combative.
We turned a corner and the bus shut off... he cursed
got out and fixed the rods that were no longer in line
with the electric wires.
KFC was hidden behind some trees but some nice people
helped me find it. The bikes were down in the
basement along with electrical appliances. The only
one in working order was 12.99! She was blue, with
oversized white reflectors, a real beaut.... 10 SPEED
in white letters written down the side. It was as
generic as you can get. Love at first sight. I just
had to pump up the tires, and oddly enough a bike shop
was right next door where I could get her ready for
our first ride! I was on a hill that I could coast
down. She's a bit wobbly. I grinned like I was king
of the world all the way to the hostel.
The rest of the day was pretty bland. I tried to
muster up the energy to play at an open mic but all
the clubs seemed to far away. Up the alley from the
hostel was a pretty cool club, but the best part was
walking out and seeing the wall of gum. Thousands of
splotches of used gum stuck to the brick wall to form
an impressionistic painting.
This area also had great acoustic to sit and sing some
songs for a while.
I ended up crashing early... I woke up to my phone
ringing the display read "RYAN." I turned off
the ringer and promptly fell back asleep.

This morning I woke up and rushed out the door old
blue and I were cruisin' and hopped on ship... we
actually held it up a bit, but they were kind enough
to wait. The clipper was packed. I sat next to a
pole where people walked constantly by. Then the
floor. Then a bouey which was the best of all. I
read A Sand County Almanac which makes me smile now
and then... Aldo Leopold can put words to his
appreciation of nature that I can't express.

Marie greeted me her face smiling and round she had on
a red bandana, a white shirt, and jeans. I don't know
Marie she's a friend of SaraJane's. Susan and Sam
were waiting at the truck. Susan has a booming voice.
She's a firecracker I can tell. Sam is a golden
retriever with a quirky personality and as with most
dogs eager to be loved.
On susan's property live Jonathon, Vail, Ella Mae,
Ooma, Andrew, Rosa... and me
Susan has graciously lent me a tent and a place to
pitch it. I'm just lounging. There's a party
tonight.
The county fair is going on life is good

8.20.2002
today was a Sarah Baur day. She loves it foggy and
overcast, so that she can sip her capaccino all day
long. Sarah took me on a drive around San Juan Island
the other day. I like the way Sarah talks loud and
slurring her words all the way.
Old blue and I had been talking about going to Orcas
Island for a while now. I woke up early. The body
clock ticking beautifully. Jonathan gave me a ride
into town cuz he had a dentist appointment. I walked
Old Blue onto the massive ferry. I remember pulling
into Friday Harbor wondering why such huge pile-ons
were necessary. I thought maybe a cruise ship, but
these ferries carry cars therefor they are big. The
inter island ferry is free unless you have a car. I
strapped old blue down so she wouldn't fall and walked
up to the observation deck. I don't know why I was so
set on summiting Mt. Constitution on Old Blue she does
only have ten speeds after all. People have offered
other bikes no thank... Old Blue has been good to me.
She's steel... she's heavy and awkward and her seat
makes my ass hurt.
I have never done a ride like this around Marin County
where I live, but a time comes when you do irrational
and challenging rides for the heck of it. Orcas has
many hills. The ride to the summit is over 20 miles
long, and with no granny gear it proved to be
difficult. There were many riders on the ferry with
their fancy bikes, gloves, helmets, wind breakers,
black shorts... they looked mostly retired. When I
got off the ferry they were the first people I passed.
I am competitive what can I say? I wanted to be the
first to the top. The road lead along a lovely
meadow. Nice barns. I passed some awesome kinetic
sculptures... mobiles or whatever they're called.
They were part of a museum put alongside the road to
entice passers by. In East Sound the first small town
on the way to Mt. Constitution I saw a just married
couple. She was sitting in the side car of a classic
motorcycle. He was driving. It looked like the
motorcycle had been painted black just for the
occasion. "Nice town" I thought as I passed through.

Old Blue was riding like a champ. I stopped at a
ranger station to fill up on water. Shortly past the
station a lake opened up on the right. On the left
came the road to the summit. At the ranger station I
met a Canadian couple I was drafting behind. We
started up the mountain in full spirits. They were a
bit concerned for me. "Sure you got everything you
need?" Asked Mike a tall lanky goateed grey haired
man. I went over the list in my head: crescent
wrench, food, water, camera, maps... yeah, I think so.
There I was in my cotton shorts my tighty whities
riding up. Tevas sandals and wearing no helmet. What
a pair old blue and I. We were making pretty good
time despite the fact that my legs felt like they were
going to give out. I saw an eagle or hawk of some
sort. A spectacular view of some other islands, but
all I wanted was to be at the top. The Canadian had
left me in the dust. Huffing pushing as hard as I can
struggling.
I thought back to when I was working at Barton's
Bagels in San Anselmo. I worked with this cyclist.
He was a stud. "I saw you riding" he'd say. "How'd I
look?" "You were working too hard use a lower gear."
He always said that. If he could see me now throwing
my weight side to side as I peddled with all my might.
I reached the top exhausted the Canadian cheered
loudly I was embarrassed and proud. Old Blue and I
can do anything. I walked up to the panoramic view.
The prize. I sat near the edge of a drop off eating
P.B.&J, and carrots. A couple is flirting over there.
Bleep bleep bleep. I look at the couple, and they
look at me and laugh. "Hello?" Some lady answers her
cell phone. Then I hear the Canadian talking on
theirs. "They're missing the point" I say to myself.
Suddenly I felt like all the people were bragging that
they had conquered this mountain. I realized it had
conquered me with its breath taking vistas. I was
sore as hell too. I thought about how land is such a
commodity. It's an investment now. When I read A
Sand County Almanac I think Aldo Leopold really loved
the land that he lived on. Society is walking
backwards with Bush hand in hand. It's good to know
that not everyone is on the same sinking boat. There
are some people doing great things these days.
Blue and I felt great zooming down the hill. No front
brakes, but the back ones will slow me down
sufficiently. The wind whipping.. I was cold, but I
don't think anyone noticed. I was so happy. Smiling
at every car, and bike I passed. A sense of
exhilaration. The ride back to the harbor was hard
and on the ferry back to San Juan I rewarded myself
with a nap.
now the ride back to the tent looms

9.12.2002
hello yous...
it was a long and arduous journey on the ferry to
Seattle. I read my book, fell asleep and every so
often would stroll to the upper deck to get some fresh
bone chilling air. I arrived at the hostel a little
dismayed to be in a place so sterile and boring.
There was no community what so ever.
It was late but I hadn't eaten dinner so I ran over to
a pub and picked up a veggie burger... I felt kind of
isolated and alone like people were staring at me
while I ate. It was dark out and to me that meant bed
time. My body was used to shutting down just after
dark. I took off the dressing on my wounds and tried
to find a comfortable position. Every time I moved I
ached and my road rash would feel irritable. You
would think laying on a bed that is perfectly
horizontal would lend itself to good sleeping, but I
missed the quiet San Juan had to offer. I missed the
sound of Douglas Fir needles falling on to the tent
and sliding down to the ground.
The reason I was in Seattle and not San Juan was
Bumbershoot a huge music and arts festival over labor
day weekend.
Mostly it was okay. Very often I found myself
cringing and restless listening to something BAD. I
would move on to something else. On the first day
after listening to some of the worst reggae music I
have ever heard (Cannon the Lion of Judah) I wandered
aimlessly. I ended up at the short film fest. I sat
down next to some lady. She had slender fingers and
wrists and long puffy hair. We started talking I
found out she had just come back from Africa she is
Jewish among other things. We watched a set of films
about addiction... the best was called 60 cups of
coffee. The main character was trying to see if 60
cups would kill him. It was pretty funny. All the
characters in the diner were great. Two guys were
betting on whether he'd make it to sixty or not. They
bet chewing tobacco, cigarettes, lighters... the pile
kept getting bigger and bigger.
The next group of films was called Pro Creation? Me
and the lady were commenting on the films. We had a
good connection. We talked about what music we were
going to see after the films. We ended up at Christy
McWilson together. Good ol' country music. The lady
introduced herself as Amy. Amy wanted to do the two
step with me but I declined giving many excuses I'm
injured, I can't partner dance... the real reason is
that I feel like an ass when I dance with a woman.
I'm so awkward and I like feeling confident when I
dance. After Amy and I had seen a few shows she
invited me out to a Sabbath dinner. "Sounds like an
adventure" I thought. I didn't care to stay at the
festival. Free food! Good company! I'm all over
that. It was exciting to be celebrating Shabbat it
had been so long. I thought back to Warren Wilson
College when I used to rally all 5 or 6 Jews on campus
to celebrate together.
"Hi Paul I found a stray Jew and I thought I'd bring
him along to dinner is that all right?" Amy asked her
cell phone.

We arrived at the house after being a little lost.
She had only been there once. She made me a little
nervous with her driving... heavy breaking and
accelerating. I greeted each stranger. They had
names Paul, Eric, Lauren, Dan, some other lady, and
the shy dog Freckles. It was a fun bunch of folks. I
had a good connection with Paul and Dan. Dan was
always eluding to some sexual connotation then he'd
chuckle... you couldn't help but laugh along. Dan had
small thin rimmed spectacles... his nose was kind of
pointy and his cheek bones stood out on his thin face.
He had short hair that almost parted. Paul, a
Canadian living in the US, had a slight lisp. He had
a nose similar to mine... the hook. He had short dark
curly hair and a light beard. I liked his receding
hair line. Some men bald well. Paul was big and tall
and had a great sarcastic wit.
After dinner I sang my new friends some songs
accompanied by, Abuelita, my charango. I decided to
name her Abuelita because my friend Guillermo said it
reminded him of his grand mother... I was very touched
by what he said so the name stuck.
Over the next three days Amy and I became closer and
closer friends. We saw everything together. She
brought me to another party on the last night that was
particularly splendid. I met an amazing musician
singer... Pam. She had spent a good amount of time in
south America so we talked about Chile alot. She sang
some Silvio Rodriquez (an amazing Cuban folk singer)
tunes for me. I left Seattle on such a high. On the
way to the airport I met a few southern belle's they
were great fun. We talked about the south and about
music. I've become pen pals with one of them.

On the car ride home from the airport... it was great
to be with my brother Pascal, but the reality of being
home was not one that I was prepared for. I knew I
should have stayed up in Seattle and San Juan.

I am trying to make the most of my experience here
because I will not be leaving for at least 4 months...
possibly 2 years if I go back to school.