Lost at home

Until you are stripped of it, you cannot realize how comforting familiarity is.  Now I am in a city where I even have a personal connection with many of the squares of sidewalk.  On the max home from the airport I told a visiting couple “Portland is wonderful, go for a walk on the waterfront or something”.  It is entirely bizarre to be back in the United States, as if I reverted to a past life.  There is so much space, so much waste, so much fat, and so much money.  In LAX I withdrew a 20 dollar bill and stared at it for an extended period of time confusedly: “This is what our money looks like?!”.

It has been terribly difficult for me to reconcile the thoughts that were pivotal on my trip and the stagnant mess of normality that pervades my comfortable situation at home.  When I walked into my room for the first time all I could think was “Damn, look at all this shit.  Why did I ever need or even want any of this”.  But thinking of Thoreau “A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone”, I resisted detonating explosives in “my room” and will just imagine that there is not a bunch of useless burdensome crap all around me.  When you are so tied down by all of the things in your life it becomes very hard to get up and move your thoughts.  I am hoping going to college in a week or two will be the right choice for me, to gain more perspective and start another adventure, but a large part of me wishes I was focusing more on the intangible school of life.

Nevertheless I have learned that the most important part of experiencing anything is to go into it without any sort of expectations, and give every path a chance.  It is fascinating how complex everything seems when often it is very simple.

I’ve directed all my photography efforts to this website: http://codyowen.zenfolio.com/  Where you can see some of my favorite photos, in better quality.  I’ll be posting more as time wears on, and hopefully making prints and promoting my artwork in other ways.  Thank you so much for your support throughout my travels!

Remember to wander and wonder.  Please take care of yourselves and take care of the people around you.  In such a corrupted world, all we can do is show understanding, support and love to the people who matter to us.  Everything else is just dust.

 

Last Breaths

Firstly and most importantly, Happy Birthday little sister!  I am posting this a day late because I was very busy yesterday and I’m sorry for that, but you were always in my thoughts!  If you’ve opened the gift I sent you from Istanbul I hope you like it!  Soon enough I’ll be teaching you how to drive, I’m excited for that.  I can’t wait to see you in hours that are growing fewer by the second!

 

 

I spent the weekend camping above the valley next to a particularly picturesque lake, and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it, basking in both the sun and stars that were unspoiled due to the lack of civilized atmosphere.  I was a bit sad to not get a chance to climb the Matterhorn, but I’ve learned more by not climbing it than I would have if I could have set foot on the summit, as always my relationship with the mountains is enlightening.  Life is not to be forced, and my favorite part of the relationship between a being and a mountain is the humility that is gained from it’s dominance.  Although I strive always to be satisfied with less, I think humility is something that a person really cannot have enough of.  Besides, some desperate conquest would ruin the inspiration that I gain from it’s stature, a legendary monument and hint of the chaotic birth throes of our planet.  All of this I came to terms with as I sat at the bottom of the climbing route, as I weighed the mountain’s aspect and it in turn weighed my soul.  What a wonderful test of the acceptance of the world’s flow, a bow that I can string and fire through the axe heads, a test that is designed for me, and I relish it.

I will be home in 1 day (the lonely number looks strange to me).  I am of course sad to be deeply cherishing my last breaths of alpine air, but I am more so excited to be home, to be with loved ones, and the land that is familiar to me. There seems to be no where like Portland, and the rain forests of the NW, like my friends, remain irreplaceable.   I have done what I left to do, and honestly, beautifully harbor no regrets, every second of my journey was “right” because it was.  

To get home I will take the train to the Geneva airport in a couple hours, sleep there, and get on a plane at 7:30 to London in the morning, from there getting what should be an amusing 6 hour layover in LAX (“Oh… Cali…?”) and then home to Port Land by 10pm.  Dear mom:  I’d very much like to take public transportation to get home from the airport. As much as I want to see you and home as soon as possible, I think it seems the only appropriate way to round out my trip nicely, so I will politely decline the offer of a ride.  

I’ll post plenty of pictures and thought after I get home and clean the blood from my tent.

Love you all, thanks for your respect and the interest in my journey!

No I’m not dead

It is strange to be seeing the same valley every day now, as I have been in Zermatt for about a week, but it is an incredibly lovely valley so I can’t complain.

The walk from Chamonix was absolutely wonderful, and will be a couple weeks I will never forget, and have learned much from.  18 days of hiking and camping in one of the (subjectively speaking) most beautiful environments that this world furnishes.  On many of the days I crossed 2800+ meter passes and descended again to the next valley or milk and cheese fueled pocket of civilization, constricted by the mountainous terrain.  Since I was doing the route earlier than in season, many of the mountain huts were not yet open (which suited my budget fine, and damn I wasn’t carrying that four season tent for nothing), and many of the cols still were clothed in their crystalline shawls, but my I had good boots and took my time so this was manageable without an ice axe or crampons.  The first few days were grueling what with the excessive weight I carried and the need for my lungs to adjust to the elevation, but I am a bit of a masochist so in the back of my mind I enjoyed myself even with a couple 10-11 hour hiking days in a row.  “What?  I can get blisters there!?”….

No not there you perverts.

But after a couple days and several liters of swiss milk, the weight felt like less and I worried less about the distances and, elevation gains and losses in a day, and just walked with wide eyes and vigorous spirit.  I carried a guidebook of the route but the swiss have everything so well signed and way marked it would be easy to do the whole 110~ miles without it as long as you had a head for the mountains and a knowledge of destination names.

Although occasionally I walked near roads during my crossing of valleys, on most days I was accompanied by sweet alpine winds, the tranquil chiming of bells that hung from slanted cow’s necks, high meadows (the namesake of the “Alps”) exploding with blooms covering nearly the entire color spectrum, transparent glacial streams, the warning signal of the marmot (or perhaps it’s  imitation of a child upon seeing the late Micheal Jackson), and seldomly other hikers- most doing a single stage as an outing.    I was thankful for near perfect weather.  Although it rained daily, this was usually during just the afternoon thunderstorms, and I was able to shake the water off my tent in the morning, hike for 8 clear-skied hours and then get settled before anything got started.  Sometimes I camped up near the mountain passes but I also found camping spots not to difficultly right outside of the towns which had precious caloric bounties.

I had one shower 13 days in, when I payed for a dormitory style room in a town after an exceptionally troublesome decent through a forest and was totally bushed and whacked, so  I gave in.  Finally I stayed in proper mountain hut on the last couple days before Zermatt and ate well with a passion evoking view of the glorious Weisshorn which towers tyrannically over the lesser peaks half way down the Mattertal valley.  Needless to say, after dinner I was still hungry, but a different type of hunger, that which I knew would drive me back here soon enough, and lead me to the foot of that ice-armored behemoth.

Finally on the second to last day the light from the mountain I’d come to see was reflected into my own eyes.  The last stages lead me from North to the South end of the Mattertal valley, where the Matterhorn rips into the sky like the tooth of a predator rending silk.  Although at first it was capped by the thick clouds it often creates, it was amazing to finally see even the lower reaches of the monument of the earth, more intricately and terribly beautiful than any place of worship that I’d visited on my journey thus far, and I had to employ all of my discipline to look at the rocky path to make sure I didn’t break my leg in the last 10 miles of the trek.  Finally I camped above Zermatt on the last day and awoke with the sun as it licked warmly down the monolith before anything else was lit.  I broke camp quickly, eager to get over with the last short 2 hour walk down to Zermatt.

I have been holed up here with  some saintly people who are letting me stay in their house, but the weather leaves much to be desired and I doubt I will get a chance to climb my favorite mountain, no matter how much I would like to.  I will come home on the 18th and until then the forecast is still mostly precipitation and little melting, and there is too much snow up there for any guide to agree to take me up the Hornli ridge.  A tiny chance still lies on perhaps 17th but that is only if the predicted snow doesn’t fall this weekend and I get a few days of melting instead.

However, I am not worried in the slightest.  Just as I think it is very natural for many people to believe in a god or higher responsibility, I am rather happy that the world will make the decision for me of whether I climb or not.  Of course, I know if I got the chance to have a try on that legendary mountain I would climb it with more zeal than anything else I’ve ever done in my life, but I will be perfectly content if the universe works out to necessitate a return in the next few years to climb it on a different occasion.  Either way I am without doubt that I will be able to challenge myself and be a part of the mountain before I die, and above almost all things, I am patient.  Que sera sera

If I don’t get a chance to climb I’m gonna go up and camp a few more days in the hills around here till I have to takeoff.

I mean, holy shit this experience has been incomparable to any I’ve found thus far, I am overflowing with joy either way.

I’ve attached a tiny (very tiny) fraction of some of the more “documentation” type pictures I took along the way to give you an idea of what I’ve been up to.  Unfortunately they are terrible quality because I compacted the file sizes to put them on the net with the resources I have at my disposal now, and only edited as to the point of those I intended for black and white (since I often see in black and white).  Edit: I also added a red line to show my path when it is not so obvious.  I’ll put things together more comprehensively when I’m home.  IN LESS THAN A WEEK, OH GEEZ….

To the mountains!

I can’t wait to get up into the mountains!!!!  Tomorrow I’m taking off in the morning with a hefty pack and a full heart.

The route I’m following is broken up into 14 stages (usually 1 per day is tackled), and I will spend about 18 days on the route. Since I’m carrying my own tent, stove and a decent amount of food I will inevitably spend a few days just hanging out at my favorite spots along the trek, either due to inspiration or bad weather.

Today I bought the last few things I’ll need- Oatmeal, gas, peanut MnM’s, trailmix, dark chocolate, and another SD card.

I have finished off about 4 liters of water in the last few hours in an effort to absolutely flood my cells with as much life giving liquid as possible, needless to say, I have to piss worse than drowning drunken sailor…

Furthermore I had a thorough “last supper” and am now engorged with carbs and protein (see the pictures of the feast)… large burger, with 4 fried eggs on it and a supermarket bag of fries smothered in cheese.

Gotta give my body a head start on the caloric deficit I will be enjoying over the  next few weeks.

I also included a picture of my hostel under the gorgeous cliffs I’ve been eyeballing for the last few days.

My guidebook claims that the route:  is over 180km (110 miles), gains 12,000 and loses 10,000 over the course of the trek…

So I’m going to go to bed.  I’ll post again on the other side of the void- around the 3rd of july.

What do you do for the rest of the day after you’ve jumped off of a mountain?

I never thought controlled falling could be so therapeutic. When I had first heard of paragliding I thought, “I’m much too afraid of heights to ever do that”.  However while I was flying in the large jets deep in the sky, I loved the feeling of lift, and the freedom that the sky gives made me wonder if I could ever control some sort of flying machine on my own, but I wasn’t going to waste my time becoming a commercial pilot.  I’m sure that they take no enjoyment in the shipment of people over the same predetermined routes. No, wandering was the idea that captivated me, as it so often does.

Chamonix was the perfect place to try it, I knew too well, as wings spiral downwards from the hills and into the midst of the town all day long. Since I had already decided not to bother with Mt. Blac (of little importance to me on this trip) and save my efforts for my trekking route and the jagged world’s tooth that lies in wait for me at the end, I found this as the best solution to get a great view of the haven of the valley.  Chamonix resting between a towering, remorseless phalanx of glacial sentinels, their icy spear tips piercing the sky, which bleeds silken vapor.
Instead of considering it, I simply didn’t and told myself “You have to do this, in the end you will not regret it.” And so I arrived at the base of the lift without any preconception of the experience, except that it would be incredibly new and enlightening.

I was excited just to be on the cable car that lead to the famous Aiguille ‘du Midi, probably one of the most beautiful places in the world that you can reach without any physical effort.  However in the back of my mind I knew that a differnent me had had a staggering fear of heights, that often he experienced vertigo and shrunk back from the edge, but I had burned that former image of myself and today would be starting fresh. I had no fear of heights, just a desire to experience something new. Mountaineering has taught me well, a superlative discipline and trust of trustworthy equpiment and human methods.
After a quick inventory of the actual safety of the undertaking- I trusted the pilot, I trusted the gear- there was no point in worrying about it. So I just didn’t, and ran off of a mountain.

I often take solace by acknoledging that I have no control- and in this situation I was not in control, I was along for the ride.
And ride we did, supported by forces I could not see, but it was incredibly relaxing and I felt entirely removed from the idea of being pulpified by gravity.  I was instantly in love with the pure grace of it, like when I see a beautiful girl admiring a tree.

Eventually we landed in the valley after about 25 minuetes of flowing down the air currents and I thanked my cheerful guide Sean profusely.  Already I had decided that I would take up this beautiful sport which seems extreme in nature but not in practice. A setup would cost me a good chunk as well as the flying education, but I am patient and am very contented with the idea that in a few years I will come back to Chamonix, climb to the top of Western Europe and glide back down into town.

Above all be safe, but forget what you “know” about yourself and throw yourself off of cliffs. Besides, we only have so much time to scare ourselves to death before we’re actually dead and wont have the option.

Now to do my bible studies (pictured) and to start really taking care of my body and figuring out logistics.   I’m doing a protein binge for the first couple days (I bought loads of eggs, bananas, beef, and milk from the store-while I have a frige to use) and then I will ease off my food intake so I will fill up on my backbacking food. Oatmeal and nutella for breakfasts, and fresh fruit and probably more oatmeal later in the day but I will be able to buy food in valley towns and at mountain huts along the way so it should be pretty simple.

The guides at the alpine center in Chamonix said that they are expecting warmer weather and said that I should be fine even though the season is a bit early for the route I am trekking, so I will just have to deal with more snow which suits my knees just fine.  At the moment I’m planning to start on the 17th but I will see how the weather reports progress.  Inevitably I will get wetter than water on some days along the route, but I’d like to start with some sun for my first travel day which will be about 8 hours of hiking.

Check out the video but I HIGHLY suggest you turn off the sound since it is mostly wind and might just blow your speakers out…

I’m the guy who goes to Paris and skips the Louvre/ And so It begins

I haven’t posted in a while because I had so little time in Paris. Even though it was short I am thoroughly happy with my experience.   It was however very flooded with tourists but Rome opened my eyes as to what experiences were most important for me to have. I walked into the Louvre lobby and was instantly exhausted by the amount of mindless tourists just checking things off their life lists without considering why they personally appreciated the art around them.  The air was thick and disgusting with the pitiful attitude of “Shit, well everyone else is doing it!”  Thousands of souls marching towards the certain doom of their individuality.  I wouldn’t be able to get much out of this archive of human expression with all these sheep getting in the way.  Most of the time I enjoy moshing, but somehow I didn’t think the Mona Lisa was the right setting…

Instead according to a recommendation by a Canadian writer that I’d met in Turkey and who I highly respected, I cut for the musee d’Orsay.  It was a much better way to spend my time, as I’m a much bigger fan of modern art anyway and since it was not the Louvre the people that were visiting it were very conscientious and the environment was beautifully calm.  d’Orsay is a charming building in it’self, an old train station (which shakes occasionally as you are browsing it from the trains that now run beneath it).  Absolutely enchanting.  Besides I’d already decided I needed to come back to Paris in the winter for some specific photo ideas and during the off season the Louvre would be much more enjoyable.

On that same note I didn’t visit any of Hemingway’s favorite cafes since they were inevitably famous and it would cost me 8 euros for a cafe’ au lait, and wouldn’t be any good for writing in because of all the damn people.  I found a few unrecognized spots and enjoyed myself in peace.

I walked under the Eiffel tower but wasn’t going to waste my last night in Paris standing in line to go to the top.  Besides, the skyline of Paris would be pretty boring if you couldn’t see the Eiffel tower….

Listening to the organ in Notre Dame gave me one of the most powerful feelings, but it was a much different “religious” experience than the others in the cavernous church.  Music is truly the universal language.

But my favorite part about Paris was visiting Shakespeare and Company, my literary pilgrimage.  Even though the location was different than back in the day when Hemingway checked out books (it is now a bookstore and not a bohemian library) it was wonderful to see the idolization of thought and passion that I had begun to doubt existed anywhere in the 21st century.

I didn’t get all of the pictures that I would have liked of Paris but that is okay, I will be back, and it is because I spent so much  time absolutely enjoying it for myself alone.  Besides, if I want to go to business school then ill have to go back to Paris, the program doesn’t sound to hard: “‘Suuuup career?” (pictured).  This is a joke, F$$K business school.

Tonight is my first night in Chamonix underneath the mammoth Mt. Blanc (which has been shrouded in cloud for most of the day, but I love the mystery).  Here’s a guide to how you know you are in Chamonix:

-You get off the train and are completely mesmerized by the hills towering above you, where cable cars that look like they should be impossible to build zip off into the tendrils of fog that lap at the valley firs.

-You realize you are finally in a place where you are not the only one wearing battle ready mountain boots.

-Cute, squat houses with wooden shutters sit nestled in the hills.

-You wish you had come here much, MUCH earlier.

-You do not get pissed off by tourists, instead you are surrounded by travelers.

-The products being sold in the shops are beautifully for utility.

-You smile at and get smiled at by others who are wearing swollen rucksacks, nodding understandably.

-The wind smells of glaciers and the rain feels like freedom.

-You think of the 130 miles you will be hiking in the next 20 days and tears of joy fill your eyes and you think: “And so it begins” as your smile spreads from your soul to your body.

In conclusion:

I booked a paragliding flight (tandem with someone who actually knows how to operate the damned thing- through a paragliding company in town) for tomorrow morning and I’ve decided to throw away the idea that I am very scared of heights and just do it.  Through discipline we can overcome almost any mental obstacle.

There are few things that make me happier than seeing an ice axe in a super market (pictured)

Moar

More photos of my last couple weeks.  I love Paris, I’m sure I will live here at some point in my life.  There are plenty of tourists but Rome was great experience so I have been able to sort out my priorities for Paris and roll on unburdened.

 

 

Rise of a golden empire

I have neglected to post anything because of my minimal time in Rome and Paris and for that I apologize.
Things will probably continue to get few and far between because I will only be in Paris till the 13th and from Chamonix to Zermatt
I’m sure I will not have access to the internet, which is exactly how I want it. My excitement for Switzerland is literally indescribable, and of all
the “holy” monuments I’ve visited, Europe’s dragon spine will bring me closest to “truth” and both my acceptance and disconnection with my independent being.
After all I am of the world and simply embody the energy that pulses in all forms.

I cannot say I am disappointed that I shortened the time I gave myself for Rome, although I will definitely be back to Paris since there is too much for me to do in my
short time here.
Rome was enchanting at first, and I absoultey loved visiting the Colesseum, one of my favorite relics of our entire civilization.
The food was wonderful, but the reality is that the the 21st century has touched everything with it’s sythetic, plastic, destructive fingertips and Rome is just like any other city now.
Yes there are a few ruins of the Roman empire, but Rome is almost entirely a tourist city. Everything is catered to the outside world and only tiny pockets of it’s legendary charm remain,
mostly in the mind. I wish I could speak highly of it, because it is Roma, but all it is now is shopping tourists, windows with slim cut suit jackets, and overly expensive resturants that
don’t serve authentic quisene. I am glad I went and experienced the way that “style” and fashion driven culture (mostly egotistical brand names) has run rampant throughout society, not just the
characteristically materialistic U.S. but I did what I wanted and am glad I didn’t stay a day longer. I have no complaints about my travels, everyting is what it is and should be accepted
as such, but going in with the expectation of some Italian oasis was absolutely a mistake. Then again, anticipating anything with specific expectations is often one of the worst mistakes you can make,
a dearly valuable lesson in it’s self. Let me sum things up with a tally of the things I saw: Ferarri’s: 1 Mcdonald’s: 8
There is no god, wait, perhaps there is, he is just on the Mc’D’s payroll like everyone else….
Who steal’s a towel? Someone at a roman hostel apparently….

So I need a new towel but have had incredible luck and I would give a million towels for the balance my world has been given. Someone in Athens found my original journal and my good
friend has retrieved it and will send it back to the states so now I have a good base for my book, and I am more than elated to have my original writings of Greece back.
Nothing could have made me happier, it is one of the 3 or so events that has made me truly question the presence of a god.

ANYWAY:
I had a lot of fun in Rome and have no regrets as with everything I do in my life, but will not be in a hurry to go back. I have learned a lot from visiting the historical centre just like every one of my stops.
While I was there I had time to read A Moveable Feast, and I will keep Hem in my mind as I drift around Paris for a few days. Who know’s if I will even go see the Eifle tower, and I doubt I will visit the cafe’s he frequented, but the wind in Paris
blows with an energy that stirs the deepest parts of the subconscious and I look forward to getting lost in the city for the next few days. Everything with a name will be infested with tourists, but I’m
sure I can find my own sanctuary and do my own feasting. Perception is the freedom of the mind and I will enjoy myself no matter the circumstances, since I am absoultey free.   Now I will go to hear the great organ in Notre Dame!

More pictures of my last day or so in Istanbul (with obligatory photographer self portrait in one of the mammoth mirrors in The Harem) and some of the stuff I snagged in Rome, not all of them uploaded so I’ll add more later.

 

On my way home

I have been to the weathered, ancient gates of troy and got lost in my imagination amid the pivotal ruins.  Now, like Odysseus I will be slowly making my way home, but surely I will be met with many distractions along the way.  I am as far “East” as I will come and will be looking with determination towards the west and my own cozy frontier below the Cascades.

I spent a final night in Chanakkale after Troy since thunderstorms were predicted and I’d found a cheap hostel.  I decided to go to a hamam (Turkish bath house) for one of the most bizarre experiences of my life and something you really have to do if you ever visit Turkey.  For 40 lira- about 20 USD you get thoroughly washed and massaged by a Turk in a cryptic stone chamber, during part of the process they use a special rough glove to remove the outer layers of your skin.  In short (I have written much more extensively about it in my journal for use in my book)  the whole thing felt like my body was being religiously prepared to host an ancient tyrannical spirit, ritually summoned from the damning inferno.  However, after being scoured, sanded, polished and pummeled I was so relaxed that I couldn’t have cared less if some demon was about to inhabit my physical soul vessel, frankly a bit disappointed that there was no blazing pentagram drawn around me as I tenderly rose from the marble alter.  Swapping places with a condemned soul and fighting my way out of the 7 circles, now that would be a legendary adventure (Odysseus meets Dante?)… however  I floated back to my bed unburdened with darkness and drifted off.

Now I am in Istanbul, after a 7 hours on a bus, two of which were spent in the holy Constantinople traffic which was awful, but now I’m holed up in a pretty ideal district amid some of the older area (on the European side) resting a bit and planning my next few days.  I’ll be flying to Rome on the 4th and then Paris on the 9th!  So I have a bit of time to lay low and also see the sights of Istanbul, but frankly the sheer size and chaos of the concentration of people interests me more.  I got a chance to walk around the Egyptian Spice Market which is a hedonistic undertaking for all of the senses, totally overwhelming and exhausting.  I bought about 75 cents worth of baklava and it had to be the most saccharine thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.  The bottom was absolutely marinated in syrup, so the entire flaky piece of heaven literally dissolved and I stood out of the way of the mad rush having a long oralgasm.  I instantly knew that this is what I wanted for my wedding cake, not some floury frosting bread.  I wish I could send back truckloads of trays from the particular place I got it but I can only hope there is some back in Portland that will begin to measure up, however I doubt it.  That baklava is what the gods eat I am absolutely sure of it.

Photos from camping on Lesvos to Istanbul!

 

Checking in

I spent an enchanting few days travelling on ferries, and camping on the island of Lesvos near a town called Molyvos where the stars were dazzlingly bright without all the mainland smog from the cities… and some contribution from the geoengineering that is going on all over the world, Read: http://www.prisonplanet.com/chemtrails-what-in-the-world-are-they-spraying.html This movie was actually being shown on television in Greece, so hopefully this issue will start to get some attention.  Tests of the chemicals in the glaciers on Mt. Shasta recently discovered that the hikers and climbers are drinking water (from the mountain) that has 60 (yes that is two intentional digits) times the amount of aluminum that legally requires government intervention…. so much for getting out into the purity of nature….  

Meanwhile the Eurozone is in chaos, the euro has fallen against the dollar drastically, and Greece is on shaved ice.http://www.bloomberg.com/quote/USDEUR:CUR

I hope that some progress can be made, but it seems that Europe will need decades, not years to pull out of this mess.  Who’s idea was it to use the same currency in Spain and Germany anyway?  Why don’t we use the US dollar in South America while we’re at it?  However, I am in turkey at the port of Canakkle and will head to see the very ruined site of Troy tomorrow, probably camp there a night, and then go to Istanbul for several nights before Rome and Paris. But I really cannot wait much longer for the Swiss alps, but the days are counting down.  

I will post pictures when I get the chance when I get settled in a hostel in Istanbul in a couple days.

Be well and as always send positive energy towards Greece, they need it desperately!

Cody O