A Deliberate Life

Dog is my Copilot

Maybe my last post, maybe not, but now I sit here in The Perch, Brentwood TN totally burnt out from networking here in Nashville and wishing for the freedom and fresh air of our cross country trip. As Kymberlee wrote in her post, we're now going through the harder part of our transition. No home, no job, no routine, very few friends, and simply no structure to our lives. But, just like our trip, we have several things that continue to ground us - each other, our faith, and our dog. Doodle has been the continuity between all our stops in life so far, and despite being a total pain in the butt sometimes, he's a welcome sideshow to our ever-changing big tent.

So this blog is dedicated to him. 

He did a great job adjusting to the van. He had his bed inbetween the two front seats

 

 

 

But often was a scout, looking for places to stop and check his p-mail. 

 

 

 

 

 

Or liked hanging out on the dash where he could see both us and the road. 

 

 

 

 

Most importantly, he kept one of us very warm at night in the van. I'm not telling you which one of us...

 

 

 

 

But since we spent quite a bit of time out of the van, this 6 lb dog did his best adapting to the adventure. Sometimes we'd do a hike on a leash.

 

 

 

 

 

 

but most of the time he hiked in his personal bag, very content to watch the landscape go by four feet above (and four feet off) the ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And he wasn't limited to hiking. He helped us out in a yoga session, leading us all in the downward dog pose.

 

 

 

 

He was our adventure mate at the blue ocean

 

 

 

 

In the snowy mountains

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the colorful desert

 

 

 

 

And by beautiful lakes

 

 

 

 

He also had the slightly annoying yet comforting trait of always looking out for our return. He refused to lay down or relax if we left him in the van, and once we got closer he would start literally jumping for joy, squeaking with excitement until we were both safely seated in the van. No matter how far away we were, we could always see his ears poking up, scanning the horizon for his pack to return.

 

 

 

 

He helped us in other ways, such as making friends with strangers

 

 

 

 

And finding tracks of the mysterious creatures that inhabited the bizarre landscapes we saw. This photo show the droppings of an especially dangerous animal to small dogs, humanus toddlerus, and Doodle successfully warned us by giving it a wide berth. Look closely to see the details!

 

 

 

 

And finally, if you've made it this far in this photo blog, you'll find the best picture of the trip that simply didn't fit anywhere else. We stumbled across what can only be where my ancestors were from, as the town name echos my personal ethic!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reluctantly, we left before I could make it Pop. 64 and we pressed on to Huntsville, cousins, and hopefully a new job, home, and community.

3200 miles later

3,200 Miles later: Blog entry from Kymberlee

Signs of Change are Here: We arrive in Huntsville on April 20^th

Family Reflecting:

So many highlights to our trip, but one that will not be forgotten was our visit to Prescott, Iowa to visit my second cousins James and Marilyn Rychnovsky.  It was a visit full of mid-western farm hospitality, learning about my mother’s family’s past that I had never known, visiting gravesights and cemetraries and drawing up my mother’s family tree, visiting the farm house where my mom was raised until she was 14 in Mt.Ayr  Iowa, seeing the site where my grandmother spent her childhood in Lenox, Iowa living with her blacksmith step-father, seeing the train tracks where my grandmother’s father was a train conductor through rural Iowa, and staying on the 100 year old Rychnovsky farm house where I visited when I was 7 years old.

I had visited rural Iowa when I was 8 with my mom and brother Brandon, but had not come back since. The Rychnovsky’s were second cousins, but they were treating us like close knit family that had finally come home….and we felt that way too. In their 70’s now, James and Marilyn had raised their five children on that same farm, had over 160 acres that they raised corn, beans, and cattle for 45 years. Marilyn had raised much of their own produce and they both had calloused hands from years of hard work. They since retired, and rented out the acres around them to other farmers to till. They still have their garden, the farm dog, and James takes his dog for a “ride” (not a walk) in the pickup around the miles of farm every morning and evening. Lush and green, the farm smelled like freshly mowed grass and sounded like warbling birds. Everything looked the same as I remembered it thirty five years ago: I remember riding bare back on their horse with four of the cousins (all girls), riding on the tractor, and visiting one of their classrooms as the “California visitor” that came to school. Theirs was an example of a large, close family that was always playing outside, loud with many voices speaking at once, and always laughing. It was a bit of a confirmation for me remembering how much fun it was to play with all the cousins when I was young, and now moving to Alabama/Nashville so Evie can be closer to her cousins too. I remember it felt like one constant playdate opportunity, only it didn’t have to be scheduled two weeks in advance like we do in California.

 Marilyn and James told us that they set aside two days to show us around, and that they “had nothing else to do during our visit”….wow. Who has time like that in busy California?. They taught us about how farming has changed in 50 years of farming, and how he used to use combines that had 2 rows, and now they are harvest up to 32 rows at a time. He drove us to the John Deere equipment yard and showed us the old equipment like he used to use sitting in the back of yard rusting. He grieved over the erosion caused by over planting/harvesting without keeping grass areas for drainage and runoff…. He still cares, the land was his livelihood and he wants to preserve it.

Paul and I felt like we were on our own personal marriage retreat visiting with them. Every meal cooked and eaten together with just the four of us talking about family, their children, their faith, 50 years of farming, and how they have divided up the work over the years.  They had made a happy life together that worked. One quote that James had about marriage was, “Well, the way I figure it, Marilyn makes all the little decisions, and I make all the big ones…..But so far we haven’t had one big decision yet”.  I felt like crying when I left because, as Paul said, “They felt like grandparents to us”.  What amazing people.

How I know “Our Times are a Changin’” and we aren’t in  California anymore:

1. Paul shaved off his scruffy three week beard today and is clean shaven for interviews.
2. When we drove into Huntsville, AL, there was a local politician sitting on a chair under his campaign banner mounted on a trailer. He was sitting there waving at all the cars at the intersection under the giant picture of his face and sign with his name on it: wow, only in Alabama.
3. Evie went outside to play with her cousins today with no thought of putting on shoes….the cousins all play in the front yard with or without shoes, either way works fine for them.
4. Evie said, “I miss my toys and friends”….”I want to go home” last night. It killed me. We talked about the change, and how she felt and she seemed to feel better. She loves her cousins, but I think it is now hitting her that her old house and life is not coming back. I will take her to a little gymnastics class this week and/or dance class since I know she misses it.
5. Doodle is finally calming down. He was so anxious each time we would stop the van or get out that he would barely eat. Now he is resting in his bed in our room and back to his normal self.
6. Paul is back on his computer: he set up a little “office” space in our room and finally feels grounded and little more back in touch. We had such spotty internet opportunities on the road.
7. It rained today, and then it didn’t. Rain comes here like a little commercial to the show, and then goes back to sunshine or whatever happened before it. I laid in the sun for a few minutes this afternoon…and then was rained on in the parking lot when I went to the store an hour later.
8. You can’t get avocados on your sandwich at Subway here.
9. I had “fried pickles with dill sauce” in Missouri on the way here. It was really good. Loved it. Wanted to figure out how to make the batter and dill sauce.
10. You can find “boiled peanuts” for sale in crock pots at the local mini-mart gas station in Tennessee.
11.  Armadillo road kill. Weird. Enough said.

So I am off to bed now…today was a tough day for Evie, and I hope she sleeps through the night. She was throwing up sick all day from some sort of stomach flu that five of her cousins had in the last week. Her Aunti Donna (Paul’s sister) is a nurse and came over and checked on her. It was great that Donna had seen the course of sickness and could advise me on how it should go away within 24 hours. We’ll see how she is tomorrow.

I think this is my last blog entry…it has been fun to write to y’all….

How do you like that Southern twang?

Kymberlee

 

Of Farming and Small Towns

This is related to the previous post in that the changes in farming have created the changes in small towns. Things that used to take hard labor, dust and sweat, perseverance and grit, now take mostly education, good decisions, and computers. So what does that mean? That big corporations are much better suited to managing the huge cash flows now required to farm. Young people, unless they are endowed with an inheritance, are simply priced out of the market, starting with the land prices and continuing with the prices to buy or lease modern machinery. So the farms keep getting bigger and more specialized.

I can’t cry too much for progress, but what has accelerated this trend in the last few years has been the tremendous increase in prices for corn, due to many factors but mostly due to huge increases in ethanol production using corn here in the U.S. From Jim’s perspective, this has also led to people farming for money instead the love of farming. What’s the difference? Decisions made on short term profits instead of long term care of the land. 

He showed me many examples of where waterways, areas where water collects and runs fast during rainstorms, are either not properly left with cover crop like grasses or are not tended to correctly. The image on the left is a waterway with no cover or tending and it shows the erosion that happened from a recent storm. The image on the right has well maintained waterways. These problems are usually created by someone trying to get as many bushels of corn or beans out of their acreage as possible this year. What it creates in addition to more profits is more erosion of topsoil. As the topsoil drains away, less productive soils are now in play, requiring more fertilizer to maintain yields. Not only does that decrease long-term profitability and health of the land, buy you also don’t have to look too far to find out that fertilizer run-off is causing problems in our rivers, lakes, and oceans.

He also shared examples of other cash producing but arguably questionable practices like high intensity indoor pig farming. I share his concern that we have stepped over a line somewhere and are simply disregarding the welfare of the animals that are providing us food, all in the name of more profits. We all vote with our pocketbooks and somehow I can’t help but think we’ve shortchanged an animal’s welfare to save money on groceries, allowing us to buy the next biggest size TV.

 The last change he is seeing is simply in trust and cooperation. No longer are deals done with handshakes. More frequently farmers are not seeking their neighbors’ inputs on decisions like where to put a hog barn, which anyone can tell you will ruin your day if you’re downwind. Some of this is progress, some of this is selfishness. And maybe both Jim and I are romantics about the “good ole days” of farming in the 50s and 60s. At least he had the opportunity to raise a family during them.

OK, enough preaching. I keep thinking that my posts will get lighter, but Jim and I were resonating on way too many things and I had to write them down somewhere! 

 

Of Small Towns and Farming

We had an incredible day in Iowa, hosted by Jim and Marilyn Rychnovsky. They are Kymberlee’s Aunt and Uncle, probably some sort of 2^nd or once removed thrown in there. Basically Jim is Kymberlee’s grandmother’s cousin. Heck, I’m not even sure I got that right. But regardless, they were excellent hosts and we feel very spoiled right now. Jim was a farmer for almost 50 years, an southwest Iowa born and bred black dirt farmer who has been through many trials and tribulations over the years, not just surviving but thriving as a husband and father. Given my more than passing interest in both small towns and farming, Jim and I had many wonderful conversations regarding the changes going on in both. 

Rural America is changing. I’ll skip most of what you’ll hear about empty downtowns and youth flight, but what it comes down to in small-town Iowa is that farming now takes more capital and less labor. That’s a fancy way of saying that each person is more productive through more mechanization and specialization. Jim shared with me the story about his farm that he now rents out to others. What used to take him three days to harvest with a two row combine now takes 4 hours with three 12 row combines. All it took was about a million dollars worth of machines and a farmer’s productivity can be easily tripled or quadrupled.

Less people equals smaller towns and schools. Jim mentioned that on one bus route through a section (1 sq mile) near his farm, the number of kids went from 13 to 0 since the late 1900s. He showed me homestead after homestead that had been burned and buried in order to raise the amount of land that can be farmed.

The house that Kymberlee’s mom was raised on is gone, but in this case was replaced by a modern house for tenants, not for farmers. Many family homes are now gone with nothing but old pictures and memories to honor the past. I realize that in many ways this is progress, but when you go through towns like Prescott, Diagonal, Corning, Clearfield, Arispe, Lenox, and even county seats like Mt. Ayr, you see the empty storefronts that lend a sad backdrop to an otherwise incredible landscape. Jim and I both dream that someday the technology that has drained these towns will eventually allow them to thrive. I can imagine things like teleportation, holography, and personal jetpacks, but I’m hoping that there will be something I can’t imagine that will help revive the small towns and the small town culture that comes with it.

We also stopped for lunch in Gothenburg, Nebraska on the way to Iowa. The small donut shop/cafe we ate in keeps track of all their visitors. And the owner gives you two hotpads, knitted by her
mother, to take with you. For free. One has an N on it for Nebraska, and the other has a G on it for Gothenburg. You won't find that at the McDonalds closer to the interstate. And you also won't find this flyer in bigger towns: "The Future of Gothenburg Depends on our Ability to bring our Youth Home after College." They're trying, which is
encouraging to me. 

You'll also find some bright spots where there is creativity and vision. I'm not sure if they are successful, but I like the bravado of Ramsey's Supper Club, listing Newport Beach and Hollywood as the other locations for their fine establishment. 

One of the amazing things we saw in our journey around four counties in Iowa was that Jim knew almost everybody. Our parting was at his son Wayne’s house. While we were talking outside, and young woman walked by with her dog. After a bit of chit-chat, he asked her last name. He recognized it and proceeded to reveal that he knew her parents, brother and that she was working in Des Moines and sometimes flew in a medical helicopter. In my world, that is a bit freaky and unnerving. In small town America, that is normal. It can also be considered good or bad depending on your perspective. I wouldn’t mind giving it a try. Now I’ve got to get back to working on my personal jetpack….

 

Prescott, Iowa?

After a mile chewing day (600+), tonight we're in Prescott, Iowa. Good luck finding it on a map without some help. Hint: look for where the tornados came through last weekend and you'll be real close. We're deep in farm country. Black dirt corn and soybean farming with a smattering of cattle, hogs, and chickens. Marketers would refer to this as Heartland, but I just say good people. The folks we're staying with, James and Marilyn, have lived on their farm for almost 50 years, farming their 87 acres of Iowa. As a wanna-be farmer, I look forward to talking more about farming with James tomorrow as they show us around the area where Kymberlee's mom and grandmother grew up. GMO seeds, crop insurance, $400K combines, and soil erosion have already been talked about, so I'll have more for you tomorrow.

One thing they don't have here is good internet or cell signal, so no pictures or videos till we get back to broadband land.

Men and Beer

What is it about men and beer? My Friday Night Beer Club kept my beer explorations current, with different themes each time, a home brewer in the group, and a local microbrewery (Devils Canyon Brewery) seemingly always well represented (thanks Charles!). On this trip, as with other trips, I try to sample as local of brews as I can get. Throughout Nevada and Utah, there always seemed to be a beer from Uinta Brewing, based in Salt Lake City. Their IPA is both tasty and common, helping out a few meals for me. 

Our visit to Moab Brewery had us trying their Black Imperial IPA. Only distributed in a bottle
(because it is bottle conditioned), it was a very interesting complement to our meal, though the high alcohol content (8.4%) did leave some taste of alcohol in the mix, something that represents a love/hate relationship for me with high alcohol beers. It represents what many of the US brewmasters are trying - combinations that go beyond established beer styles. I love the creativity and look forward to tasting more experiments going forward. As for this experiment, given its 1 liter size, I'm glad we could walk back to our beds.

Speaking of creativity in beer, my Uncle Russ keeps up his run of interesting blends. In his walk-in fridge now, he has Beef Hearted Ale, Vienna Waltz Lager, Krispy Kream Ale, Rootin Tootin Werenbock, Kewl Kolsch, California Common Lager, Dr. Dunkleweizen, Little Bo Pils, Dry Fly Stout, and Wreak Havoc Ale. While I won't bore you with what all these styles are, I love the creativity he has in naming his concoctions. As with all beers, the styles are created from a combination of different malts, hops, and yeast, and he has a story as good as the name behind most of them. 

His friend Bruce is also a homebrewer, so I was in heaven last night talking about beer and brewing. Bruce's son is now a brewmaster at a local microbrewery, so let's just say I was in good beer company. Kymberlee also jumped in to understand more about this passion. She checked out Russ's brew room and now she knows just what I'll eventually want! He has a big burner for boiling the mash, a mill for the malted barley (or wheat), tubs for different styles of barley, a freezer full of hops, and all the plumbing/carboys/filters to get a beer from raw ingredients to the bottle. And as I already mentioned, he has what many envy - a walk-in fridge for storage of the finished product.  I hope at some point I can put together the space (and time) to be as good as a brewer as my Uncle.

 

Family

We're now in Littleton, a suburb of Denver, staying with Paul's Uncle Russell and Aunt Patty. The Stanley caravan (Dick, Martha, Rebekah, Kaela and Evie) had been here a week ago and Paul's cousin Misty was here Friday night, so they are getting their fill of family this month. We got in early enough to unwind with some great homebrews (and they wonder why people want to visit...) before having a great dinner that was joined by Russ and Patty's great friends Bruce and Jeannie. What followed was, in summary, how important family is and that despite any fears and doubts we might have, we are doing a good thing. 

That was important because it's tough crossing the Continental Divide know that everything that is familiar and attractive to us is behind us. Having confirmations like this is crucial, as this trip is an emotional journey as well as a physical journey. We're heading off tomorrow to Iowa to visit Kymberlee's mom's heritage. Teena was born there so we'll be be checking out the family farm and other sites that were part of her family's history. 

So in the end this trip is about family, both the destination and the journey.

Vail

Stopped in Vail for lunch. The mountain looks so sad - no snow. But the stores have everything on sale! Dangerous for both of us. The bottom line is that I got credit for taking my wife out to Vail for lunch. I'll take it!

To Be Alive

Today I had the blessing of going off on my own for a hike. Trying to find something moderately difficult but rewarding, I chose to go to a hike close to Moab that includes two arches, Bow Tie and Corona. Unfortunately, it should be nicknamed the Toddler Trail or Disneyland @ Moab. I think at least half of the people there were under 18 and made as much noise as most kids. No offence to those of us with families, it was just a poor choice for me trying to get away by myself. So onwards I went, to be rewarded with some nice views of people dangling from ropes. That's right, people were rappelling off of the arches. There will always be arguments regarding how natural resources get used, and there is precedent for other, now banned, uses for arches (see this clip at around 1:10 to see a plane flying through Corona arch: http://youtu.be/IkeJQJxHpQw). And even rapelling has a more dubious side. Check out this clip showing some serious swangin' from Corona -  http://youtu.be/7xm_PIQ6_hQ

All of this is a longish way of saying that some people want to play, some people want to preserve, and some people want a balance. What that balance will become in the Moab area is still up in the air. You can probably figure out what side I lean towards....

But I came to Utah to do something difficult, something that caused me to completely focus on the task at hand to make it home safely. And despite the crowds on the main route, I managed to climb to the top of the arch and beyond, entering a world of only me, rock and sky. What it took for me to climb up and then back down stays in the "don't ask, don't tell" disclosure policy with wives, mothers, etc., as I think they sleep better not knowing. I believe I take calculated risks and while their remains a chance that something could go wrong, I think the chance is sufficiently low to merit the rewards - feeling alive. For me, there is nothing like being focused on survival, every movement requiring many calculations to make sure it is the safest, slowing down time to its vital building blocks, and removing much of the fog between God and myself. And so I feel alive again today, shed of the grocery list/budget/email/shave and shower routine that is my reality. 

I did come down earlier than planned. Why? My calculations were getting closer to a negative return on risk. I was climbing without a partner, no one knew where I was, and if it rained (in the forecast), the slickrock I was climging on would become just that - slick rock and I would effectively be marooned. Maybe it was the perspective of age or maybe having a 3 year old daughter waiting for me to return that made turning back a bit sweeter. But still feeling ALIVE.

So I'm back in Moab, and I must quickly talk about reverse culture shock. For three days, we were on roads that would politely be called lightly trafficed. Seeing another car more than once every 5 or 10 minutes was remarkable. So coming into Moab yesterday afternoon was a bit of a shock. Where did all these cars come from? We had dinner at Moab Brewery, which was not the most subtle of transitions from the solitude or small group setting of the last three days to the hopping "big" town of 5000. But I guess it will help us deal with Denver, which is where we'll be tomorrow night. 

I promise the next blog will be a bit lighter and hopefully with a bit more humour, as I have several vignettes saved from previous days. 

As a test, I'm putting a small video up. It was taken during my ALIVE part of the trek and documents that I found an arch. Since it doesn't show up on any map or descriptions in the area, I henceforth am declaring it with this video evidence as Paul Arch. Just don't expect me to fly a plane through it.

 

Blank Screen

By Kymberlee

4/13/12 

I’m sitting at Love Muffin café in Moab, Utah staring at a blank screen thinking about my next blog post (officially my second time ever posting). Paul is out on a hike somewhere nearby, and Doodle is in our motel room.

There are a few things I want to comment on:

1. Blank Screen time: It occurs to me the irony of the “blank screen” season of my/our lives as I think about what to write next. We are actually creating whatever comes next from this “blank screen” season…with the help of God, friends and family. Living like a homeless couple with a dog in a van is actually freeing in the simplicity: no house to clean, no dishes, sleeping in past Evie’s wake times, and living day to day are all part of creating an adventure that unfolds each day.
2. This feels like a second honeymoon for Paul and I. It occurs to me that Paul and I got
   married 5 years ago, started infertility treatments aggressively when I turned 40, moved twice, bought a house, had a child, and I had three jobs in five years. We haven’t stopped. This is a luxury of time together to connect and change the routine to just being about us. Thank you God and the Stanley’s for taking good care of Evie while we are here.
3. Doodle is a neurotically adorable dog. I haven’t spent Doodle time like this since I was single. Doodle used to be my only “baby”…but now he follows us around, gets nervous when the van stops or we leave the room, and won’t eat until his “pack” is all together and calm…not when we are driving. He always wants to sit on our laps and is really quite nervous about where we are and where we are going. His bed is his only constant. Yesterday we had a scare when he jumped out the passenger seat door when I opened it instead of waiting until I held him. He fell all the way to the floor onto his side and cried and whimpered for quite awhile. I panicked and thought he broke his back or legs, and worried we wouldn’t have medical services for him in a middle of nowhere visitor center in the desert. He ended up being OK after a few minutes and is just fine…phew. I’ll keep an eye on him…Man do I love that dog.
4. I need solitude: We stayed in a motel called Rim Rock Inn in Torrey, Utah that was so majestic in silence with giant red cliffs and views in panoramic windows (for $50 a night!). I realized that I really need “unplugged” time from technology, people, demands, worry, and schedules. I think we all do. The giant red rocks and moving clouds and color on the sheer cliffs was like a movie unfolding during our dinner at the motel window. I was so thankful for the silence. Literally no cars for most of the day on the road. Not even any music. No cell reception. I looked at the people that worked in the motel as having something I didn’t have, some kind of wisdom of sitting still and expecting nothing less than what comes in life. Exactly what I need right now. I try to resist the temptation to worry about the future: no job, no house, and the unknowns of our life in two weeks…. I’m giving my self permission to stop for now.
5. Eating: I really don’t need to eat as much as I do. It’s nice to actually THINK before I eat: “Am I hungry?”, “What is a healthy option?”…or “How can we live off what’ in the van fridge for several days?”. Sometimes as the mother of a toddler, I eat goldfish crackers, leftover mac and cheese, and whatever I can make quickly and squeeze between events. Ahhhhhhh…..
6. Kymberlee Kamping: is not so bad. We are in a motel for two nights due to bad weather….so far I’m having a nice balance between van sleeping and motel beds… I’m not suffering and Paul gets four stars for considering my needs. Thanks honey.
7. Did I mention the Bonsai?: I was soooo glad to hand off the bonsai tree to my mom in Ely, Nevada. Five days with Benny the Bonsai was more intimate than I ever wanted. I got to rearrange the inside of the van as fung shue as I wanted given the guitar, Doodles bed, and tubs’o’stuff all over the cabin area. I got creative with bungee chords and stacking.

I’m on my own for the first time in 7 days. I think I will walk to the library, or buy some gifts for Kaela and Rebekah who entertained Evie in the backseat of grandpa’s car for 6 days, or maybe I’ll just talk on the phone, something I rarely have time to do. So if I call you today, it’s my reveling in the time to connect with you… 

We are off to Colorado tomorrow to see Paul’s aunt and uncle in Denver, and my stepbrother and his family in Evergreen, CO. More driving. I am thankful to stop for the first day in a week. Road weariness had set in last night and I just wanted to STOP.

So far so good…life can happen if you just let it.

Kymberlee