The Canadians are here, and the wedding is comin'

Just one week until my eldest sister celebrates her commitment to her partner - a celebration of their love, a legal act that will bind them together for a long long while. Those family members for whom it was possible or reasonable have arrived here in Australia to celebrate with Krista and Tua, this means my parents and other sister, whom I haven't seen in 5 months arrived at the airport a few days ago, weary and warm from 24 hours of plane travel. We are in nearly the furthest place away from southern Ontario that we could possibly be. Whew. And so I've had friends to wander the streets of Sydney with for the past three days, as we took the harbour ferry over to one of the northern beaches, where I swam, we walked, and soaked in the blue views before skirting around the Sydney Opera House back into Circular Quay, where we disembarked, and wandered into the downtown core of Australia's most populated city. We had one big barbecue party at Krista's cute home, where we sat cozy and close to one another, said thanks for the food, for safe travels and for the ability of our family to be joining us for this special time in Krista and Tua's lives, and enjoyed fresh summery grub with one another.

And soon, we will head to Canberra for the wedding celebration, to take place in the country town of Gundaroo, in a garden, with the reception to follow in a historic building, and long standing restaurant in the town. I will continue to have plenty of thoughts on the topic of commitment, what it means to me, what long term monogamous relations mean to me, and if I desire such a relationship in my future. No doubt, more challenges will be had with last minute preparations, and stressful times will be had by the anxious bride and groom to be, as they prepare to throw a massive dinner party for all their favourite people; but love will be shown, between the two to be married, and from the family and friends that will gather in support of their love.

a new year

Goodbye 2011, and welcome a fresh new year.

My holiday celebrations were good - spent quite differently then in different years, but great nonetheless. I was at Bouddi National Park for my birthday, with it's unique geological coastline, stunning beaches and quaint campsites beside the ocean, it's exactly the way I hoped to spend my 25th birthday. Next came Christmas, where we joined Tua's (my sister's partner) family in their parents home down the south coast of New South Wales in Bermagui. Tua's stepfather is a keen cyclist, so I rode with him and my sister almost every day, along the waterfront trail, that overlooks a rugged lonely seeming beach en route to the quaint fishing village with a stunning beach with cliffy coastline surrounding. We spent a small amount of every day swimming, including Christmas Eve and Christmas day, we paddled kayaks and ate delicious food from the barbecue. We visited a quaint mountain town, and spent lots of time sipping wine on the covered raised deck overlooking Wallaga estuary Lake. As all good things do, this adventure came to an end, and so we piled back into Tua's car and drove the trek back to Sydney, where we schemed away at preparing a killer picnic (think - pure sunny day, crisp cold ciders from the cooler, oily Greek inspired rice pasta salad, fresh potato salad, raw veg and humus, local cherries, card games, and fireworks at the end of it all) for our New Years Eve festivities the next day. In fact, my New Years Eve felt strangely like Canada Day.

And now, I'm thinking about setting intentions for 2012. No one can ever know for certain what the next day of our lives will bring, but we can plan and anticipate some things with some degree of certainty - can't we? This year, I'll ride my bicycle to new places on a new continent. I'll see both my sisters join in long term partnerships through marriage celebrations. I have intentions to explore food systems in other countries, practice my gardening skills. I have intentions to learn and explore my chakras - the focal areas that are centers for energy transmission, that regulate core identity and creative expression. I want to eat and drink more slowly, thoughtfully, taking time to describe, to myself, to others, the taste, texture, flavours, feelings of the food in my body. And, I intend to figure out what's next for me. Not in a stressful, meaningless way that takes me away from the enjoyment of the present. But in a subtle, introspective, attentive way, keeping my eyes, ears and heart open to the potentials that this wonderous life has and will continue to present to me. No matter what this big life has in store for me, I promise to not try too hard to control it or to figure every little thing out; instead I will try to "embrace it all and be grateful for all things that make life a little sweeter"...

In the land down under.

How you going?

I'm starting to pick up on this Aussie lingo.

I've now been here for two full weeks! I've been spending my days exploring Sydney: going to Bondi Beach, cycling the busy streets of Newtown, discovering community gardens, finding and volunteering at the Alfalfa Food Co-operative, joining a great yoga studio, doing work trades at the vegan cafe that is in the yoga studio, cycling around the botanical gardens, gathering and leafing through many books from the public library, and following the bicycle paths on my "push bike" (as they call bicycles here).

Though speaking of my bike, it took a little while for me to be comfortable taking Poppy out in this city. I've never been quite so intimidated with riding my bicycle in a city. Maybe it was the warnings people gave me about Sydneysiders driving recklessly, or about how Sydney isn't as bicycle oriented as alot of other cities. I think it was just the apprehension around riding my bicycle on the left side of the road!

But alas, of course I jumped on, after getting a glimpse into the fears of those people who say "It's too scary to ride a bike in a city". And my fears are gone - though I do find Sydney drivers less aware of cyclists, and there does seem to be less cyclists on the road here, compared with North American cities I have recently visited. There is a fairly good network of separated cycle paths and bicycle signage on roads, but you still must stay quite aware of vehicle traffic around you. I'm missing the days of cycling in the same gear for an hour and never unclipping my shoes or putting on my breaks; soon enough I'll embark on another cycle tour...

So Sydney - a metropolitan, gorgeous, clean, wealthy city. That's my view of it so far. I'm probably making generalizations, yes, but that's the way it feels. I'm adjusting to city life, and to the expense of it all, especially in Oz, where prices are much higher then in North America for food at the grocery and food at restaurants. I'm getting used to being sedentary, I mean, having a place to come to each night, knowing where I will lay my head. My how that is easier on the brain (albeit a wee bit less exciting). And I am getting used to Krista and Tua, loving how I spend my evenings cooking and eating with them in their home, baking treats for them while they are at work, discussing plans for their upcoming wedding celebration, and meeting all of their wonderful friends here.

I feel a lot like I'm in a land where nothing is familiar, even though Australia is a commonwealth country that has been subjected to globalization like any other... The plants look different, people are slightly hard to understand, independent cafes and restaurants spill onto every street, where I ride my bike on the left, and where it feels nothing like a traditional Christmas. The weather is warm, the Christmas decorations and carols quite sparse, and the farmers markets have spring and early summer produce in bounty! My internal seasonal clock is confused...as I welcome an afternoon sitting in the sunshine outside, rather then cozy by a fireplace indoors or baking up a Christmas cookie storm! I'm even going camping this December weekend to celebrate the fact that I'm a hitting a quarter century in age. I'm going to have to crank the carols and bake some gingerbread cookies if I want to simulate some kind of Christmas 'round here...

I've been practicing yoga almost every day here, and have been setting intentions at the beginning of each session. Things to meditate on, positive affirmations, or manifestations. As I struggle with my flying across the entire Pacific ocean after living a rather simple carbon friendly life for the past number of months, I keep returning to what my good friend Sean told me as we parted in San Fransisco. He told me I could offset my carbon emissions with love! So, I've been energetically infusing love into all you folks who have helped me get to where I am today. I invite you to do the same. Take a quiet moment or two to concentrate on one person, and send them love through your heart. Show love outwardly by greeting a stranger in the street with a smile, telling someone they're beautiful, letting your partner that you appreciate them. Show love to your garden or your pets or show love to mama earth by committing to change one enviro action today. Most of all, don't forget to love and take care of your own spirit, so that you are ever more able and prepared to share with others around you.

finally some photos!

Finally I've uploaded a few of my photos, my impatience with doing these things means I randomly selected some photos from Otesha - and into my month in the U.S. Otesha with our bodies, My otesha team, superhero cycling day, Tricia and Kayla playing, The Redwoods, The portland farmers market abundance, Kayla and Melissa on Vancouver Island, Sean Kayla Emily, Me and my bike on the golden gate!

in san fran. on a bike.

So many feelings, experiences, and things happen over the days of cycle touring. So many friendly conversations, so many emotions as you pedal up a hill or hoot and hollar as you whip down a massive mountain you just passed over.

Since I last wrote, I experienced more of the wild, surprising beauty of the Californian environment, people, and places.

After a welcomed rest day in Arcata, wandering around and exploring the super transient spliff smoking culture of the town, we bid farewell to our wondrous host Ashley, and cycled into the very brisk northern Cali morning. And onwards we went, into the thick dense redwoods. Along the splendidly indescribable Avenue of the Giants. A quiet road through amazingly silent but powerfully present trees. Indescribable these giants are, as they sit ever so close to the road, moist and still in the dense old growth forest. A super special place to cycle, I was so grateful to be there! Even when the cold rain came. After a soggy, but warm night camping beneath these trees, the three of us cycled further into the redwoods - watching the sunshine twinkle and try to peak through the dense giants, as crystal droplets of moisture fell ever so slowly to the land below. We cycled up into Garberville, and beyond, staying one more night camping out in the beautiful redwoods, and gaining another cycling friend, John from Huston, who's been on the road for 13 months, just him and his bike. Our threesome was now a foursome.

Onwards we went in the wee early hours of the day cycling up some steep hills, and down into epic valleys, eventually cycling into the town of Laytonville, where I gladly warmed my toes, and we began to think about where we may find a place to camp for the evening. And then Sean saw it: "Don't forget the magic" embossed on the side of a trinket-laden, but tidy looking shed - we thought we just can't pass such a place without asking if we could pitch our tent and have a campfire on this person's property. The jolly old eccentric man welcomed us kindly, and invited us to come in and warm ourselves by his wood stove before setting up camp in the fading afternoon light. We had a yummy campfire meal among some pine trees that night and crawled into our tents with blissfully full bellies and tired bodies as it started to pour a cold rain.

The next morning we awoke to more pouring rain, and Sean called his friends in Lake County telling them that we were en route to their house that day. Wendall, our soon to be cowboy, veteran, susty livin family man host at Burnt Buggie Ranch, gladly volunteered himself to drive the hour long ride from their place to come pick us up on that cold day. We accepted this lovely offerring...

Burnt Buggie Ranch became our home for the next 3 nights, as we explored their acreage, went on a horseback ride in the rugged, wild rolling, but desert mountains of Lake county, and sipped plenty a cups of warm tea, and warmed our toes by their wood stove. Wendall, Carlene, and Ashley were such generous hosts - giving their food, showers, beds, washer, and spiritual spaces generously to us to use. We also shared a lovely thanksgiving meal with them and all of their friends, a long table of 14 folks, an eclectic mix of cowboys, raw foodies, astrologists, local wine lovers, musicians and war vets. The meal was traditional and delicious in its fare aside from my lentil sweet potato creation, and Susan's raw gluten free cashew pie. As the off the electrical grid house went quiet, we each took time to express what we were grateful for this thanksgiving. Then the music jam began, and much singing and bopping and digesting occurred!

It was hard to say goodbye to Burnt Buggie Ranch, and our beautiful hosts, but we cycled onwards the next morning, into the grape laden Napa Valley, up and over and then back down Mt St Helenas (possibly the most hilariously FUN downhill I have ever experienced - I could not stop laughing at the thrill of it!) We found a secluded camp spot in between the grape laden fields and huge homes and winery buildings for the evening, and saw clearly oodles of stars through the mysteriously bare but mossy trees as we creeped closer and closer to the bay area. After one more night at a warm showers host in Pinole, talking about their adventures from Alaska all the way down to Argentina, Sean, Emily and I rode into San Francisco! We had made it!

After inspiring and being inspired at the Occupy San Fran movement, we unloaded our gear into Sean's friends tiny downtown apartment, were we cozied up for the evening. The next day we cycled a huge loop around the city, and the weather was clear and beautiful as we met new folks, duked it out with the San Fran hills, crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, and generally had a ball. We explored Oakland the next day, with a close friend of mine, and he introduced us to his sparkly friends where we slept for the next two evenings, and to another group of friends who are living in an inspiring way, a collective space where they strive to live lightly, build community within and between themselves and the somewhat troubled East Oakland community, live simply, and grow their own food (figs included - mmm). Some beautiful music was made, food shared, work in the garden done, and connections made with the folks of this special collective.

As I've said before, it's tricky to express in words what an experience has meant to you, to your soul, to your heart, to your growth. And, as Sean wisely put it, I still have plenty of growing into myself to do, but these past months of bicycle adventuring has really been inspiring, challenging, special, wild, and beautiful. I've connected with some really great souls, that I am so lucky and grateful to have come into connection with, and can't wait to cross paths with again. And as I giddily held my bicycle above my head for Emily to take my photo on the Golden Gate bridge, I was especially thankful for her and Sean, who made this journey possible and reminded me of the beautiful universe that was protecting and lovin' us the whole while long.

May the wind be at your back and the air be in your tires Sean and Emily, as you cycle onwards during your ride for peace!

Next stop for Poppy and I: Australia! Southern hemisphere, here I come!

California dreams

The Oregon Coast is wet. The Northern Californian Coast is also wet. Fancy that the Pacific Coast is wet and cold in November eh?

Well, have I had adventures since I last wrote from Eugene. I cycled and camped one long day alone, but it was quite neat actually. To see how my thoughts changed, how my mental moods shifted, how I went within and sent pedal strokes to different folks all across the country, and how I took good time to really think about why I am on this adventure of the bicycle, and adventure of the heart.

After just one 60 mile day alone, in a campground with sky high sand dunes (amazzzzing) I met up with Sean and Emily! Two familiar faces who I met during September's Otesha training week, who embarked on the concurrent Otesha tour across the Kootenay Mountains, and had been working their way down the Pacific Coast while I crossed Washington and most of Oregon inland. Perfect timing, and we were off, now a threesome, to ride further south. Passing through touristy towns with RV parks everywhere, finding a place in Coos Bay to pitch our (wet) tents. Next, riding through super moist, super mystical mossy forest, cycling up and up and down and down the "seven devils" and landing just as night fall came at a community hall type place in the boonies, just outside Port Orford. Really a wonderful spot to camp out, and lovely to have dry weather to cook our dinner and create a toasty campfire! The next day down the coast brought mind numbing, finger and toe numbing rainy weather, and it's been real rainy ever since. Luckily, we have happened upon warm indoor spaces thus far, bumping into friendly church groups who offered warm stew, fellow cyclists who shared their rented beach cottage with us in Gold Beach, and staying at a wonderful warm shower's hosts (mmm, cornbread and black bean soup, green salad and apple crisp - so grateful to lay our heads in a warm welcoming safe space!) in Cresent City. During the days, especially when we aren't sure where we will lay our heads, it is a constant mental battle to stay strong and warm, and enjoy the stunning scenery that we have been around. The southern part of the Oregon Coast was majestic, sea stacks everywhere, an gnarly ocean ripping away, the odd flash of a blue sky. Upon entering California, we entered the Redwoods - stunningly huge ancient trees that towered over us as we road up and up a multi-summit pass through Redwoods State Park yesterday. Our day ended with some wild adventures - daylight is super short, and my flat tires were many - let's just say we made it to Arcata, safe and soaked to the bone, and connected with a lovely woman who has welcomed us into her home, and is treating us like gold. And so we take a day off here, to get warm sipping tea, and to check out this quirky, seriously pot loving town. As Sean sung to me when I swore as I got another flat as the daylight was fading fast yesterday on the highway way out of any town, "every little thing, is gonna be alright". Everything was indeed alright.

Emily and Sean have been wonderfully positive, easy flow, accepting mates to tour with. I am so excited that they are as excited as me about their bicycles, even when it is nearly freezing out, and the rains are prevalent. We keep each other motivated and warm, singing songs up the mountains, speaking to the redwoods and to the ocean, reveling in the privilege that we have to be cycle touring, and trusting that the universe and the generous folks that are out there will help keep us safe and warm!

There were times when I doubted I would cycle into San Fran, but Sean and Emily have made it certain that we will get there, on our bicycles, perhaps with help along the way. We are but 320 miles away! And we have some of the most beautiful, most rugged landscape ahead of us, as we will journey through the avenue of the giants, and the lost coast highway. I do it with excitement, but also with apprehension. The weather makes me feel less confident and safe in my abilities.

As we flew down a summit yesterday, out of the redwoods and back to ocean level, and found ourselves at a positively breathtaking viewpoint of sea stacks on this rugged, wild northern Californian coast, Emily gave Sean and I a smiley huge hug, and I read aloud the poem she had scribbled on her arm when she stopped for the scene halfway down the summit:

crystal blue

water

down below me

faint fair clouds

sty turns to ocean

foggy

the redwood trees

are my angels

peace and love to you all dear friends, family and readers.

food carts, funky farms, and college.

I could sum up our Portland visit with mostly one adjective and a couple nouns: good food, good cycling, good host and good yoga. Tricia, Hannah and I ate our way through (part) of Portland, and jeepers, Portland really does do cycling right.

While in Portland I had multiple treats and loafs of beautifully multi grain teff, or sourdough bread, a piece of delectable vegan gf pumpkin pecan pie, a pint of locally brewed gluten free beer at one of the hundreds of craft breweries in Portland. There is a serious cart food culture in Portland - and you're probably thinking, oh yeah, carts selling hot dogs and hamburgers - nope. These were full on, artisan, variable food trucks, stands, stalls that were permanently located around sets of picnic benches on different city street blocks. The first set of carts we visited, I got a gluten free vegan lemon sugar crepe. And could have also chose to have loaded french fries (with even something as strange as pb and j), Indian food, Venezuelan arepas (which i had for lunch the following day, while Tricia had rice and beans in a waffle cone and Hannah had a yum looking homemade savoury mushroom pie). These carts amazed us! Real food, made fast, with fresh sometimes healthful, sometimes local ingredients, all definitely independently owned. How neat! Small spaces are continuously winning my heart over!

And then there was the Portland farmers market - vendor after vendor selling their organic local harvest veggies, their cheese, wine, apples, bread, mint, mushrooms, preserves, fresh hot food, meat, etc etc etc. We were in wonder as we wandered, tried samples, and had lovely conversations with these farmers! We followed our farmers market visit with a really inspiring talk with the authors of the feminist mag BUST, who just printed a rockin' DIY guide to life! So fun to look at and get ideas for future projects from. Over the next days in Portland we cruised the bike lanes all over the city, checkin out nook's and crannies, visiting the food co-op, checking out the unique niche cafes and restaurants and shops on Alberta ave, and attending a couple yoga classes. Good times Portland was...

As I mentioned in my last post, I've committed to buying nothing new for a whole year, to re-examine my consumption, to reuse, and to get creative about what I use and how I come to use it. My first challenge arose in Portland when I went to put on my helmet and the plastic head casing bit broke in two. Jeez. Can you buy a used helmet? Will it be as effective at protecting your noggin? Is there anyway to repair it? These were questions I pondered as my broken helmet refused to stay on my head. In the end, Tricia and I agreed that our commitment to buy nothing new would not compromise our ability to remain safe, so I purchased a new helmet from the bicycle co-op and left my old one there, with a volunteer promising that they have folks who recycle all the bits of old helmets. hmph. On a positive buy-nothing-note, I have avoided buying new toothpaste - did I tell you that? Made my own with baking soda, eucalyptus oil, peppermint oil, a pinch of salt and water. It's as easy as that.

And as fast as the daylight is disappearing, so did our time in Portland, we set back the clocks and two mornings later Tricia and I woke super early and rode 68 miles down to a farm just south of Salem, where we were connecting with a friend of mine who has recently moved onto his family's land to see what he can create with it there. We arrived in the rain, and unloaded our bicycles into his old, cozy work in progress, heritage homestead. And, he had more delicious food for us - a warm croc pot full with vegetably lentily goodness. It was a welcomed meal after our 60+ mile ride. We chatted and snacked into the night, played some cards, and shared dreams of what living a simple farming life could look like. We dreamed about communities creating sustainable homes and lives on the land. We visited his goats, picked some figs and grapes, and cozied up in our sleeping bags for a solid sleep in this mystical old farm house. The next day we got up and out early enough to ride another 64 miles before darkness falls during these shortened fall days. And, we safely made it to Eugene, OR.

We were warmly welcomed, once again, by an Otesha Olumni on her University of Oregon Campus, where we would be sharing her dorm with her, and living the American university life for the next few days. We did a fun presentation last night about Otesha and about cycle touring to 6 interested students, attending a class with Jessica on media, cycled along the very well cycled paths of the university here, and we heard and saw many a sterotypical American university quality while on campus. Football competition reigns high, students go 60 thousand dollars in debt just to finish college as fast as they can, and sororities and fraternities are prevalent.

And now, here I am. Sitting with my wonderful host for one last warm night before I head out again on my bicycle tomorrow, in the rain no doubt. Hannah headed back to Canada from Portland, and Tricia headed back northbound this evening. Now, I'm heading to the wild wet coast to catch up with two other familiar cyclists. Feels real funny embarking on this next leg without my team mates at my side. Soon enough I'll have other cycling buddies, but the solo travelling butterflies (as Tricia so perfectly described them tonight) have come into my belly, and I know now that my Otesha experience has really come to an end, and this adventure, is now my own. Scary, exciting, exhilarating.

Cheers to confidence and Independence. To warm nights and to safety. Cheers to cycling buddie reliance and google map reading. Cheers to warm hosts and cool nights. Cheers to the privilege to choose to embark on this adventure. To being out of my comfort zone, in a healthy way. Cheers to this strange, wonderful life.