How Did We Know Which Way to Go?

Coming up out of the New York City subway can be very disorienting. Which way is what? How do I get to where I want to be?

Even more to the point- how did we ever manage before GPS and Smartphones with Google Maps?

I was thinking this the other week when I spent a day in NYC with a friend. Then he- a mere young thirty-something- asked me that very question. "How did anyone ever get around the city before these things?"

My admittedly smart alack answer was- "An m. a. p."

But he was right. Smartphones and related technology have made it easier to get around a place like NYC. Need to know what subways go where? Google it. How about the bus schedule back out of Port Authority? Google it? Need an Uber ride? Use the Smartphone app.

People in those prehistoric days probably did have a better understanding of where to go in their home areas. They probably had a map in their head that helped simply because they followed the same routes on a regular basis. Tourists? Well they had to figure it out.

I have seen some thoughts that the use of Google Maps, Siri, etc. have made us too dependent on the technology. We don't know how to read maps like we used to. But it has allowed us to travel new routes, in new places, even in our home towns.

Somehow or another we managed. We are adaptable.

And often got lost.

Some Views From the Bridge

I have been doing some traveling again, back on the east coast. Had a great time the other day as I did something I never thought about doing before: I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. Like the Golden Gate, the Brooklyn Bridge is one of those iconic places. A few months ago I heard about the possibility of walking across the bridge from Manhattan to Brooklyn. So I planned it. Here are some of the pictures I took. A fun day with good memories.

View of the Freedom Tower at One World Trade Center.

View of the Brooklyn end of the bridge.

Walking above the traffic. Lots of people had the same idea.

Lady Liberty still welcoming immigrants with her golden lamp!

Two more icons:

The Empire State Building (left) and

The Chrysler Building (right.)

The lines of the bridge almost cry out to have their picture taken.

The neighbor bridge to the north-

The Manhattan Bridge

Home!

We have been on the road for three weeks. We got home today. While we weren't traveling every day, we did cover over 3,500 miles since August 31.

We had a lot of great times visiting family and friends.

But I am wiped. Tired. Traveling like this is a lot like work.

So I will go back to work tomorrow.

That's why I'm only semi-retired.

Bucket List Items?

Stopped into my local coffee shop and the question on the blackboard was "What is on the top of your bucket list?" The funny thing was I almost posted that on Facebook an hour or so earlier. So I started thinking.....

I am in the midst of filling one of those this summer (and beyond, hopefully.) I am devoting significant time to becoming a much better trumpet player. My technique etc. is probably the best it has ever been. (I know that because I can almost play the whole Al Hirt part of the song Java.) I am playing all kinds of music this summer from classical band to brass quintet to jazz-big band. I am wrestling with improvising right now. Our quintet will be playing at a local band festival in three weeks. It is exciting!!

So, what else is there to look forward to? Here goes:

• Playing in the pit orchestra for The Music Man
• Finally getting to the Grand Canyon and perhaps someday
• rafting in the Grand Canyon
• Finishing my first book and
• Getting the book published
• Visiting Cuba
• Visiting Alaska, esp. Denali

And the #1, top bucket list item, and perhaps the least likely to occur:

• Biking at least 300 km or more of the Camino de Santiago de Compestela in Spain

In the end it also reminded me of a pastor colleague I once knew and greatly respected in spite of some of our disagreements. He was a Bishop and a truly spiritual person! Every year, like most of us, he would get upset with the tedium of the church annual report that had to be sent into the denominational headquarters. In addition to stats and all those things you had to list both "short-term goals" and "long-term goals."

One year, in one of his flights of fancy he decided to see what would happen if he gave a really true answer to the "long-term goal" question. His answer was simple:

• To get to heaven! 

My ultimate bucket list item! And obviously the last one to be fulfilled.

Over the Top

I grew up in the mountains of northern Pennsylvania, part of what is now often referred to by the tourism people as "The Pennsylvania Wilds." We recently made a road trip back across Pennsylvania and it's "iconic" northern route- I-80. I-80 does not intersect any major cities. In fact, it misses even some of the larger northern tier cities as well. But for me, in college, the eastern half of I-80 was my route to school. It has been over 30 years since we have been on the western part of the route. As we were heading east we passed the sign indicating the bit of travel trivia:




It is just east of exit 111 which means it is almost exactly 200 miles from New Jersey and, of course, 111 from Ohio.

From there we kept moving downhill, until the one that heads down to Milesburg. It is, of course, a beautiful sight- in nice weather. Although I have to admit that I'm not sure the truckers would agree with me.

As we were heading back west on our way home, I became very aware of the climb- and the ups and downs of this highway. I wondered what the elevation profile looked like? So I did some Googling and found a path mapper and got the following three elevation profiles.


First is the whole of Interstate 80 from the Delaware River (left) to Ohio (right). It is quite a jumble of ups and downs. Having grown up in the Susquehanna Valley I noticed the relatively low elevation from about mile 65 to mile 90. On the eastern side of that is the North Branch of the Susquehanna and the western  side, just before the climb is the West Branch.

I-80 elevation

East (NJ) to West (Ohio)

(Black lines - border of elevation below)

So I narrowed it down to the section in the mountains after crossing the Susquehanna. It is the section between the lines above, mile 1 on the left below. The first 30 miles climb up and along the southern edge of the mountains until entering a kind of valley south of Lock Haven, PA on to Milesburg, PA. Then the climb begins.

I-80 elevation

Susquehanna River (West Branch) to DuBois

(Black lines - border of elevation below)

The left line above is about Milesburg at the base of the Allegheny Front. The Allegheny Front is most famous for being the barrier to easy westward movement of the railroad across Pennsylvania. Then the Horseshoe Curve was designed and things changed. So, the 50 miles from Milesburg to just west of the high point is narrowed in on in the graph below.

I-80 elevation

Milesburg to just east of DuBois

As can be seen, there are really two major climbs. As we were climbing that one, it is where I became aware of how steep it really is. I thought of the pioneers who headed west from the relative ease of the coast and came upon this barrier. However they climbed, they had to keep climbing. Then, just when they thought they were at the top, there were only more mountains to climb.

Over the years much of this area has become more clearly forested. The highways that traverse that part of the state haven't taken away its wildness. You look ahead of you and you see the mountain climbing; look right or left and you see mountains and valleys and lots of trees. This is the western part of what was often called "The Endless Mountains." It is nowhere near as intimidating to my Ford-based travel as it would have been to horseback, wagon, or foot travel.

My final thought was how determined (stubborn?) or something those pioneers must have been.


Link to elevation mapper

Still the Cradle of Freedom

John F. Kennedy said it 51 years ago in his Inaugural Address:

And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe -- the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.

We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution.

I was reminded of that again this past weekend when we spent two days in the deep history of the American Revolution in Philadelphia. First at Valley Forge where the troops with General Washington endured a winter of great tribulation and then at the Independence Mall in historic downtown Philadelphia we were steeped in that great American Creation Story.

Human rights, we said in 1776 are not something that a government hands down to its people. They are God-given and natural.

Democracy, in 1776 was an untried ideal. Would it work? Can it work? What an experiment. It remains an experiment that seems often to teeter on the edge of uncertainty. (That is for a different post, though.)

What I saw in Valley Forge and Philadelphia was the ongoing magnetic draw of this first democratic revolution. We heard languages from around the world. We saw tourists from Japan and Germany stand in awe of a cracked bell with the home of the Declaration of Independence visible behind it across the street.

I was speechless myself. I have never been to the historic sites of Philly before. It was a moment of awe and deep gratitude. From that spot we did "proclaim liberty" to more than just all the land. It went forth around the world.

May that always be the case.

[Note: A number of picture posts will be coming in a few weeks. I have been having fun taking photos. Watch for them so I can share my fun and experiences.]

Primal Pennsylvania Ponderings

We spent a couple days in Philadelphia last weekend. This post is not about what we saw. It is simply about a couple major primal responses.

a) The buzz-saw sound of cicadas in August. Yes, we have them in the Midwest. Yes, I have heard them many times since I left my birth-state of Pennsylvania 28 years ago. But there is a primal response on a warm and humid day in August when they buzz through the summer air. Neurotransmitters exude whatever chemicals take one back over half a century or more.

b) The tongue-tingling response to the unique taste of Tastykake Chocolate Cupcakes. Which naturally also reminded me of the late Phillies ballplayer and announcer, Richie Ashburn. Ah, to be in Philly, even for a weekend.

The human brain and memory is an amazing, mysterious thing. That these would be the source of such immediate and deeply felt emotional responses is almost magical.

How Does He Do That?

Going on a trip? Not want to carry a lot? Here's a video that may help.

HT to The Awesomer

Of course it helps that he isn't packing dress-up clothes.

On the other hand,  for all of us OCD, anal-retentive-types, here's a Packing Pad that will make sure you don't forget anything.....

You can buy it at Organize.com

Also HT to the Awesomer.

Two Looks At Aging

Well, actually the two books I've read recently are not actually about aging. One is about surfing; the other is about baseball. Yet a closer look at both books indicates there is a common thread of how do we deal with getting older.

First, the book about surfing. Kook has the author, Peter Heller, telling us about a midlife decision he makes to become something more than a beginner surfer. He and his significant other decide to make a trip along the Mexican coast that would be a way to do that. Heller is an excellent author, one who takes travel and turns it into interesting ways of describing the world. It is clear that he truly connects with the ocean; it is a deeply felt spiritual connection, although he doesn't use that word. He is concerned about the ways that climate change and human interaction are causing harm to the seas and their ecosystem.

Through all this we learn about surfing, probably far more than I really have ever thought about learning. We do, also, see a man struggling with midlife, but attempting to do it in a positive, healthy, forward-looking way. The book succeeds on many levels, giving us insight not just into the ecosystem, but the subculture of surfers and how they interact with each other. And, by extension, how we interact with those we love and who become our significant others.

The second book, The Game From Where I Stand, has Doug Glanville, former major league baseball player, taking us through his pro career. For a baseball fan, the book gives color and insight to much of what we already see on the field by taking us back into the dugout, clubhouse, hotels, and other places where major league baseball players live on a day-to-day basis. Glanville is a rarity among major league baseball players in that he is a graduate of an Ivy League college, Penn, with an engineering degree. He has a literate yet down-home style to his writing that engages us. He does not shy away from his opinions, and the chapter on the integrity of baseball takes us into the steroid era and what he feels it has done to baseball. That chapter alone is worth the read.

But in the end it is also about his leaving baseball, as all pros must do, when they're still relatively young. The poignancy of his closing chapter on the end of his career shows that no matter what career we choose, a day comes when we are no longer engaged in it as we once were. In that chapter he also talks about the family aspect of baseball teams. As an old Phillis Phan myself, his description of his Phillie Phanaticism rang true.

Overall, both books are also about love. Heller, in Kook, is more obvious as part of his journey includes his discovery of love in a relationship as well as with the sea. Glanville may not have the same depth of love toward his career that Heller has toward his surfing and the ocean, but he does baseball and major league baseball players a great service with his care and support for the game and his love for his family.

But Is It A Pilgrimage?

Calling myself a postModern Pilgrim would assume that I also see what I do here on the blog as part of a pilgrimage. I guess I have had a personal understanding of what a "pilgrimage" is. But then recently when doing some reading on traveling I came across this quote from Rory MacLean on Rolf Pott's blog:

Pilgrimage seems to be a means of reinforcing certainties of faith. Independent travel can be about challenging one's ideas of living.

All of a sudden my purpose and understanding of being a pilgrim was brought up short. Perhaps I wanted to get defensive over the use of the word "reinforce." That makes a pilgrimage sound like a journey to support beliefs one already has. It doesn't sound like an attempt to find out new or different visions of one's faith. It doesn't sound like a way to awaken or deepen one's understanding of faith.

So I went to Wikipedia and found:

In religion and spirituality, a pilgrimage is a long journey or search of great moral significance.

Okay, that fits. I can accept that. A journey of great moral significance. First is the journey. It is a trip from somewhere to somewhere. It is a getting up and moving from what was to what will be in a metaphorical or physical way. It is movement. Something happens. Something occurs. Somethings change.

Second is the environment of the journey- moral significance. In a pilgrimage one is traveling to find out what is important in life- and in particular what is important in one's own life. As a result a pilgrimage will from time to time shatter preconceived notions. Or at other times will reinforce and reaffirm the underpinnings of ones faith.

In other words if one goes on a "pilgrimage" to reinforce their preconceived notions, they will find it. If they go with an openness of mind and soul one never knows what will happen. If it is a religious or spiritual pilgrimage as a Christian, one would expect to find a closer understanding of Jesus or God or the Holy Spirit. But how and where one does that may be a bigger surprise and challenge to one's preconceptions than would be expected.

It depends on one's openness.

Over these past seven years of this blog pilgrimage I have attempted to be that kind of open. To live, in my opinion, is to be on a pilgrimage. The world we live in, this postModern world of uncertainty and confusion and conflicting ideologies is where my pilgrimage is being done. I hope it hasn't been simply to reinforce my beliefs, but to verbalize the challenges of the world. It is different each day. I have been open to times and places and people.

I hope to continue traveling in this same manner. There is so much to see and discover in the world. So much of it is in the mundane, day-in-and-day-out events that can be easily missed because it is so common. To travel beyond one's comfort zones, mentally and physically, is to bring back into focus what is important in one's life.

So here we go, starting the 8th year of this journey.

And as a last aside in this, the Iraq War was about to start when I started this blog journey. After the elections this past Sunday, perhaps the blog can finally outlive the war. May it be so. May it be so very soon.

More on Travel in a postModern World

Last week I posted some thoughts on travel and tourism in the postModern world thanks to the book Marco Polo Didn't Go There by Rolf Potts. Since I love to travel and experience different ideas, cultures, etc. I have been taking a mental journey in this whole idea. One of the things that Potts talks about is the difference between those travelers with backpacks, the ones who are supposedly getting a more "real" experience and the tourists.

On the surface it's a simple distinction: tourists leave home to escape the world while travelers leave home to experience the world. -Rolf Potts, p. 8.

He doesn't accept that idea and throughout the book by retelling his own stories he shows that this isn't the case. Everyone who leaves their "home" and travels somewhere else brings their own baggage with them. They see through the eyes of their own cultural and personal experiences. There's not much we can do about that. He expertly exposes his own naivete and says, in essence, that we are all bound in one way or another by our lives and expectations and simple ways of our lives.

Regardless of one's budget, itinerary and choice of luggage, the act of travel is still, at its essence, a consumer experience. (p.8)

I may deal with some of this when I blog about my recent vacation to a resort in Mexico, the ultimate in the consumer travel experience (kind of like a cruise on land.) Did that mean my life wasn't impacted by the travel. Of course not. I think Potts shows that we are all affected when we leave home and travel. If we are open to it, it can always be an enriching and important experience. But more about that later.

Potts does a wonderful job with his stories. If you like travel writing, look for it. It is fun.

Traveler or Tourist

I am not a traveler though I love to travel.

I am a tourist though I would love to be a traveler, at least from time to time.

Those have been the thoughts that have rambled in my mind as I have been reading Marco Polo Didn't Go There by Rolf Potts. It is a book that explores what it means to be a traveler, tourist, or backpacker in a postModern world. The postModern world, of course, is one where many of the old limits and boundaries have been shifted. We are more aware thanks to information systems, computers, etc. of a great many things. The different cultures of the world are being influenced in more ways more quickly than in previous eras.

As I have been reading the book during and after my recent vacation in Mexico it has helped raise some thoughts. Here are some quotes and thoughts to get started:

Potts sees postModern as describing

the increasing placelessness that accompanies ant information-age journey. (p. xvi).

In other words we know more about more places and bring a different set of expectations as a result. His themes include

the weird gap between expectations and reality; the challenge of identifying 'authenticity' in post-traditional settings; the realization that unexpected encounters help you better see the places for what they are." (p. xvi)

I thought of one of those "authenticity" questions that arises when you go to an all-inclusive resort in Mexico. The "stop" signs are in English on the grounds of the resort. Not one sign had STOP in Spanish. Or the restaurants were of many different styles. True, "authentic" Mexican food was not a significant part of the service.

Or one of our tour guides talked about a tourist on a previous tour (and he insists it was true) was upset that he was in Mexico and there were no real Mexican restaurants around. "Where's Taco Bell?" he asked.

Which leads to the next quote from Potts: In the information age, travel "angst" comes from

our own media-driven notions of hos these [places] should be in the first place. We cannot hike the Himalayas without drawing comparisons to the IMAX film we saw last summer... The expectation robs a bit of authenticity from the destinations we seek out. (pp. 17-18)

I'll have some more thoughts on this in the next week or so and then later in the spring when I get to put together a week of posts and pictures on the trip.

Time to Rest

11:48 EDT
Finally, at the motel and settling in. We did leave 3 hrs. late and made it to the motel about 3 hours late. Funny how that works.

The flight wasn't too bad and Continental Airlines was nice about it all.

So, it is time to kick back and rest. Vacation is nice.

Hurry Up and Wait... and Do Some Blogging

12:24 pm Live blogging from Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport.

You plan, you pack, you figure the time needed. You stand in line at the kiosk waiting to drop your bags. And you find that your flight is delayed. The bad weather we were having here forced the incoming plane to turn around for fueling. Then they had to change the plane. The result will be about a three hour delay.

At least we're not sitting on the plane waiting.

Of course that means that by the time we get to the motel in central Pennsylvania will probably be around 11:00 tonight

Oh well.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Favre Saga Continues

As Brett Favre continues to work at harming his historic career and image the Packers are trying to protect theirs. They have reportedly offered Brett $20 million over 10 years to stay retired. My guess is he won't take it since it probably isn't about money for him. If he doesn't take the offer the gossip is that he may very well be traded to either the Vikings or Bears.

Just remember what I said a week ago-- I would not want to be the GM or President of the Packer organization that traded The Great One to a major adversary and then they went on to win the Super Bowl.

But I think the Packers are right in what they are doing. Brett has been acting like a kid who decided he wanted to change his mind after it was too late to do so. I read on the SI website the other day a commentary that talked about this. Brett was probably taken aback when the Packers didn't bow to his demands. He is doing with this issue the same thing that made him great as a quarterback. He plays what's right in front of him, he makes it up as he goes along. But it doesn't seem to be working this time.

The Packers are ready to move on- right or wrong. Aaron Rodgers may be able to move the team on- or he may not. But it is time to find out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Watching the News

Sitting here in the airport I have had a particularly long time to watch CNN Headline News. One of the big stories is about two political ads. The first from McCain and the second Obama's response. So far I have seen them four times, played in their entirety during the top 5 minutes of each half hour. Then they point out:

The ads are playing in less than a dozen battleground states but YouTube (and oh yes, news outlets) are giving them national and even international coverage.

Like CNN. Why should the campaigns pay big national bucks when the news outlets are running them to a national audience free of charge twice an hour. What a deal.

Road Trip '07 - Day 10

More Sacred Ground - Pipestone, MN
Back in Minnesota we decide to make one more stop on the way home. Pipestone National Monument is among the more important cross-tribal sites. The Pipe is one of those commonalities with many different tribes in many different parts of the country.

Pipestone from this Minnesota quarry has also been found in many places far from here. It is one of many indications that the Indian cultures had a great deal of trade and communication across wide distances.

That bottom layer, the dark reddish stone, is Pipestone. This unique Pipestone is also known as catlinite, named after the white explorer who first reported on it. Unlike other red pipestones, catlinite contains no quartz. It is considered sacred - and hence appropriate for the use in pipes - because it is said to be made from the skin and blood of the ancestors.

The tall grass prairie Is a special part of the Pipestone Monument. There is restoration going on trying to bring some of t back to some of its old glory.

The moment we walked out of the visitor's center we knew we were in a special place. There was a quiet that was more than just the absence of noise. It was a quiet that was the presence of something - history, spirit, ancestors. The smell of a fresh dry prairie, the feel and sound of the breeze. We walked slowly and spoke in whispers.

The silence enveloped us with the birds and around the bend in the tree stand- water. There is a special sound of water running and rumbling over rocks. For me it is a childhood sound. But it is deeper than that- at the level perhaps of prehistory. It is the sound of refreshment and potential shade and perhaps even food. All of this in this relatively small area built on top of a deep layer of red clay transformed by time - and perhaps mystery? - into a sacred stone. You go there and, if you stop and listen, you will hear it.


Around the far end of the walk through the prairie is Winnewissa Falls.

Sadly for our walk it was at the falls that a group of three tourists caught up to us. They weren't walking slowly - nor quietly. It was almost as if they were on a race to see how much they could see in a short time. They talked about all kind of things- none of which was where they were. Well, not quite true. They talked about getting a picture and if they had missed a turn-off to get to the top of the falls. They stood around and took pictures and talked as we walked on. Eventually they passed us on the return leg of the prairie and things got quiet again.

In the visitor's center were several displays about Sacred Ground, which by now you know is important to me.

I felt sorry for the three fast-walker/talkers. This is what they missed. Or maybe they didn't because they weren't looking for this and may not even have known what it was if they came across it. Maybe, just maybe, one of them will look at the pictures they took today and feel something moving or see something unseen that will touch them in a new way. The spirit can move where it will.


But then what is the effect of tourist on sacred places. Will it turn them into the ancient museums like some of the cathedrals of Europe? Will it turn it into just another place to leave our Mt. Dew bottles when we are finished with them?

Or maybe not. Perhaps the rootedness of the Spirit in places like this will outlive us. On the Pipestone grounds are two rock formations that have been part of the spiritual life of the place. these are The Oracle - and - The Old Stone Face.

From the looks of it they have been around a long time and have withstood many things. Can they withstand human invasion, the growth of Touristan, and consumerism that finds things like this cute or quaint? I have a hunch that some tribal council of some as yet unknown tribe of some type of human may in some distant millennium still be looking for the spirit and the holiness at this sacred ground. If not, we will all be held accountable, I am afraid.

Those Prairie Skyscrapers
Traditional


postModern

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Back Home Again
Well we made it. We are home. None the worse for wear- and actually better that we have been there. Here are some of the roundup thoughts bringing it all back together.

• No fast food restaurants. For a whole week! What a change. What a welcome change. And not a bad meal all week.
  


• Nor did we shop at a Wal-Mart or a Target or even Walgreens. I think we drove by one or two of them a couple times. But don't quote me on that.


• No radio or talking books. We brought them along thinking we would need something to help us pass the day. But the scenery, the land, from the Twin Cities to Wyoming and back, was never dull, never unworthy of watching. To have to listen to something on the speakers would have been to distract from the life we were watching as we traveled. As a friend of mine used to say: the scenery was too loud for me to be able to listen to the radio. If we had spent our time in the car listening to even a good book, we would have been just traveling to get somewhere instead of letting the trip be enjoyable in and of itself. (Of course we didn't have any children with us and both of us are quite comfortable with silence and introversion-type thinking.


• We often think of "The Old West" as being out in the southwestern deserts. In reality this northern high prairie was just as much "The Old West." And it was just as wild. Actually the whole part of the country from Canada to Mexico was The West. It still is. It has a different feel than even those few hundred miles east where I live. Geography is amazing.


• When we got to Sioux Falls yesterday I realized that we had left "Touristan" and re-entered civilization. The gold rush mentality still manages to control what goes on. Today it is aimed at the tourist, not the hoped for settlers to replace the Indians. Casinos, billboards, neon, wide roads, admission prices, etc. Yet, even through that the Black Hills have their own spirit and their own life. We didn't even scratch the surface of it- we were in Touristan. But we didn't miss it entirely.

• To bring all to an end, (for today, anyway) a poem written earlier in the week. It may be the theme of this trip:

Sacred ground; Holy ground
Black Hills
A Rocky Tower or Gods Acres
Prayer Bundles or Memories

But why? Why here?
The Spirit needs to be grounded...
A place to connect.
A place that is so unique that
Only Spirit
Can be felt.

That makes no sense, my brain tells me...
But pneuma and ruach and
All other names for spirit need not
Make sense. They are beyond sense-
They are Sensual and
Spiritual and
Phenomenal.

They are holy because they have always
Been so.
Those with discernment have seen and heard
And felt it.
They have told the rest of us so
We might come here
Or go there
And become en-thused-
En-theos
In God

and filled with

God's Spirit
By whatever Name
She is called.

Me? I am not a mystic.
I don't see visions
I don't hear voices
I simply look for the next right thing
To reveal to me the Will of God.
I stumble and
I fall and
I invent and
I fail and
I create and lose sight
Of reality.

Then I stop. I go to the
Thin places and Holy sites
and Sacred grounds.

And I sit.

I write.

I ponder and look.

Within my soul it begins to grow.
Do I know what it is?
Of course not. I am too
Blind, too human to
Understand. All I know is
I am better than before I came
I am more filled than empty
I am still in the arms of
The Creator.

Miles today: 215. Total miles on Road Trip '07: 1860

Road Trip '07 - Day 9

Wall, SD - Two Emotions
Sublime Sadness
We stopped again in Wall, SD on the way home. The main reason was the small, but powerful museum they have located there in honor of those who died at the Massacre at Wounded Knee. This was a massacre that, for all intents and purposes ended the Indian Wars (or more to the point, the Wars Against the Indians) and settled once and for all the American West. In a series of moving displays they cover the lowlights of the relations between the Whites and specifically the Lakota. They showed the different ways that the settlers from the east slowly and surely changed the cultural landscape of a people.

Education was one of the ways that they were robbed of their own history, language, culture, and religion. It was a biased, warped education. It really didn't work as well as they hoped.


Selling the land was another way. Just take it and let someone else buy it. There were treaties and more treaties, all of which ended up being broken when the next money-making resource was found.


And if that doesn't work- starve them. Isn't it sad how far back in our American history we used food as a weapon much as we have done a number of times in recent history as well.


Many of the news reporters and papers weren't any better. In the last few years, especially, when the Ghost Dance was spreading throughout the Indian communities, a last desperate hope that the white man would be driven out by an Indian savior, the rhetoric got downright slanderous- not to mention untrue.


It came to an end in December, 1890. The atmosphere in the museum was deeply respectful, quiet, reflective. All the others who were there while we were there took their time and read carefully and even tearfully. It was one more reminder of how humans can be so inhuman, especially when greed and land and power is concerned.

How little things have changed!


Ridiculous Consumerism
Ah, yes. An American consumer paradigm. Wall Drug. It all began with free water and cheap coffee in a town on the wall of the Badlands. It has become infamous thanks to a relentless advertising campaign of contless billboards.

It is a bunch of different store areas selling everything from souvenirs to art work to western wear to books and on and on.


But just because it's cheesy and corny doesn't mean it is useless or worthless. I wandered into the bookstore (a very serious addiction of mine!) and found a very good section of regional books. Better than most big box book stores would have in a regional section. And, on sale, I found a truly moving book that I am just finishing. Where the Lightning Strikes by Peter Nabokov is an excellent introduction to Native American Spiritual Places in all four areas of the country.

See, even in the midst of a place like Wall Drug, you will find treasures.



<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Ramblings
We went as far as just east of Sioux Falls today before we stopped for the night. We lost that hour we gained last Saturday going west. One more day on the road as we head back into Minnesota tomorrow.

But several ramblings from today come to mind.

Say That Again

Right across from Wall Drug was this bar/saloon or whatever with these signs going up. It was now a week before the start of the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Official sponsors. Hmmm. They let themselves off the hook with the tag line- hidden at the bottom of the JD sign- "your friends at Jack Daniels remind you to drink responsibly."

[Get on soapbox]
If there is any kind of drinking and driving that is even more dangerous and just plain stupid than any other it would be drinking and then driving a motorcycle. Somehow this whole connection between driving and alcohol is almost laughable- if it weren't so dangerous and sad. I can't believe that these signs are truly responsible. No, I am not some moralistic nut or jealous recovering person or misguided do-gooder. Somewhere, somehow, we have to make it clear that drinking and driving are far, far more dangerous than we ever used to think. These do not help matters at all. [Get off soapbox.]


R - E - S - P - E - C - T
Then I was reminded of the great Otis Redding/Aretha Franklin hit, RESPECT, by this art work I had seen in various forms all around South Dakota.

I found it refreshing and filled with respect for both traditions that have been clashing in so many different ways for several centuries now. Out east where I grew up the Native influence was almost completely destroyed. Much of it will be lost forever. Here in the West there has been enough rescued that we can learn from each other and hopefully learn more about the depths of life and spirit we all can offer each other.

Regardless of what we may think or feel about what has happened in the past, perhaps we can take a moment to respect the different traditions. We are interwoven now as part of the United States and this picture may help remind us of that as our common heritage.

I have spent much of this week trying to be attentive to the Spirit wherever the Spirit may be speaking. This has been a holy week on sacred ground. I have never been good at sitting and listening for the Spirit. I need to be doing something "holy" or on a "pilgrimage" of some sort, even a postmodern Pilgrimage. Usually the Spirit sort of just happens when I put myself in sacred places or allow myself to be in a sacred mindset.

The Black Hills are filled with those possibilities, even with all the tourism. They still stick out like this piece of land from elsewhere in the midst of the Upper Plains. You come across them as you travel the prairie. Then you get into them and they kind of enfold around you. They are mountains where there are no other mountains of their type. They offer green and blue in ways that has not been seen for many miles to the east. Does that mean they feel safer- or just that you feel a presence that will protect you?

Around the entire Black Hills is a valley, a moat, a "racetrack" that legend says was where the winged animals raced the four-footed animals. Geologically it is part of the way the land was built up and torn down by the forces of nature. It is red and seems almost to have a protectiveness to it. It warns you that this is a special place. Be prepared if you go seeking the Spirit. Does that mean you shouldn't feel safer in the protection of the Hills - or that you should just stay away?

I don't know for sure. But I do know that if you go to a place like the Black Hills expecting to hear something, you better be ready to get in the right frame of mind. This can be dangerous, of course. We may hear what we don't want to hear. We may discover that we are not doing what we are called to do. Or we may find that we have been on the right track after all.

I am not a mountain person any longer. I was at one time (although that's a much longer story for much later and another time.) But it is still in my blood and soul. When we crossed the "racetrack" today heading east I found myself relaxed. Outside the mountains, where I can see the horizon, I have a place where the visions I discover in the mountains are to be lived. You can live all your life in the mountains and travel mountain roads surrounded and covered by trees. You can get tunnel vision that way. But it just may be that this is the way we get trained for vision anyway.


Yes, I know I can ramble about these things. After all these years I am still seeking answers. where there may only be more questions. But without the questions- well, the word quest comes from the same place- to look. I keep looking, finding, learning, and then looking some more.

Miles today: 371 (Total: 1645)

Road Trip '07 - Day 8

Wind Cave
This cave had an easy tour that we felt we could handle. You can't visit the Black Hills and not do one of these caves. While Jewel Cave is BIG, Wind Cave is just big! Actually, it is the fourth largest in the world (3rd largest in the US) and perhaps the one of the most complex. To get a bigger picture, just click on the picture here.
It has a rich heritage. In the Lakota spiritual tradition it is the place where Buffalo was born. One of the workers at the store pointed out on the map pictured above that if you look at it in the right way, you can make a stylized image of a bison out of it. The head is up in the upper right corner, it has a "beard" and the leg comes off the bottom. There are about 125 miles of caverns explored so far. And that winds around over and above different passages in only one square mile!

According to the website, Wind Cave was regarded as sacred by American Indians, so cave exploration did not begin until 1881, when the entrance was noticed by two brothers, Jesse and Tom Bingham. They heard a loud whistling noise, which led them to a small hole in the ground, the cave's only natural opening. The whistling noise was the powerful wind that either comes from or goes into the cave through that opening. This is caused by the differences in air pressure between the cave and the surrounding above ground countryside. As the weather changes the "wind" provides equilibrium between pressure gradients. When a high pressure area moves into the area, the wind blows into the cave where there is lower pressure, and vice versa.
There are a couple quite unique aspects of Wind Cave. One is these box formations. These calcite formations were what was left when the limestone around them was eroded away by water. Today Wind Cave is a "dry cave" where there is no water. It is also about 300 million years old making it one of the oldest in the world. (The Black Hills are also among the oldest mountains in the world, so it makes sense.)


The other famous formations are these "popcorn" formations. These are simply what's left as tiny bits of ground water seep into the cave and evaporate. It takes centuries for these to grow. One of the scientific puzzles of Wind Cave is the lack of stalactites and stalagmites. The popcorn and the flowstone (below) are the major forms.

The exploration of passages is going on all the time. With all the winding and turning that the passages take, it is no surprise that there is far, far more to see.

Humans do leave their mark. In older days they had the practice of signing their names to the walls. This one was from 8/17/82 - oh, yes, that's 1882.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Mammoth Site
From Wind Cave we headed south to Hot Springs a little down the road on the southern edge of the Black Hills. Just outside of town is one of the most interesting digs around. It is known as the Mammoth Site Museum of Hot Springs.

It is at an old sink hole that many, many years ago became a watering hole for mammoths. But they also tended to get stuck in it and covered with mud and preserved. Well, at least their bones were.

A developer was going to build houses here but began to dig up bones. He contacted a university and eventually the rich treasure of mammoth remains was discovered. From what they can determine, the depth of the hole and its contents is probably 60 or more feet. In the picture above the fence at the top is the original ground level. They have gone down about 20 feet so far.

Those green arrow are pointing at places along the strata where there are mammoth footprints. They see them from the side as a dip in the strata. In the lower center of the above is part of a mammoth skull located where it was found. Below is a closer look:


This is on the other side of the building- enclosed for year round tourist visits and for protection of the site. They only dig for about six-weeks a year, usually volunteers from organizations like Earth Watch. They uncover enough to keep the scientists busy the rest of the year.
In the lower right of the picture is what is considered the most complete single mammoth skeleton ever uncovered. It angles from right center to bottom center. Here's a close-up. The pelvis, for example is just about the lower center of the picture. You can tell the size in comparison the workers in the above picture.


<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Custer State Park (4)

Heading back to Hill City we went through Custer Park one more time. It is a magnet; you just want to keep going back.

Actually these two bison pictures were taken in the morning on the way to Wind Cave. This old straggler was all by himself walking across the plain. It was an irresistible picture. Notice, too, the prairie dog hole toward the right in both pictures. You can tell it by the dirt around it. And yes, there is a prairie dog poking his head out.




Antelope and turkey are around, too.

And, on top of the mountain this little old bird decided to show up and let me take his picture.

What mountain? Well, the one with this great lookout. It's the Mount Coolidge Fire tower and sits at about 6,032' above sea level. It has an incredible 360 degree vista from the Badlands in the east to all directions of the Black Hills.


This view looking down to the east shows the slow, slow way that nature rebuilds from fires. One of the worst fires to hit the area was in July 1988. Below you can see the still relatively barren mountains and hills. But they are recovering. After all, many of the plants are adapted for a fire environment.


Then off to the west and then the southwest- the two rock carvings can barely be seen. If they didn't have a map there pointing it out, I wouldn't have known where to take the pictures. Mt. Rushmore (right) stands out better than Crazy Horse (left) because of the different type of rock. In fact, the only way I could be sure it was Crazy Horse was by zooming in with Paint Shop Pro and changing some of the contrast levels. The comparison does show the immensity of the Crazy Horse carving, though. They are both about 11 miles from the spot where we were.


<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Coming to a Close
So the stay in Hill City is just about at an end. Oh, I have a lot more to say- and we have a two-day trip home. This has been an amazing journey. I have some thoughts yet about sacred ground- something we have seen a lot of. I may even say something yet about not eating in chain restaurants or, amazingly, not turning on the radio/CD player in the car even once. One last night to rest in Hill City, then hitting the road east.

Miles today: 104 (Total: 1274 )