The bewitching wine urges me on!

Ride up Emigration Canyon

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Fri, 17 Oct 2008 05:23:00 +0000

Yesterday I rode my bike to the top of Emigration, then down into Little Dell, then up into East Canyon a bit. Overall, about 13 miles of uphill riding, but pushing to the top of Emigration wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be.

Emigration Canyon, like all developable lands around Salt Lake, is being infested with monster-homes. See case-in-point below.

Ah well. Whomever owns that place will be first up against the wall when the revolution comes. Okay, second.

Imagine my surprise and delight when, after seeing this ungodly structure (which should never have existed in the minds of men, let alone having actually been caused to manifest in the world), I noticed someone of like-mind had already expressed my sentiments.

Here’s some more pics from the trip:

Pics from the Jemez

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 23:15:00 +0000

Pretty little hike I did with my dad last weekend...just about an hour and a half north of Albuquerque. Click on the image below.

Jemez w/Dad

Pics from my trip!

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 00:17:00 +0000

Just click on the image below!

Mexico & Guatemala

The Journey Home

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 05:00:00 +0000

Okay, so I realize I pretty much quit blogging right after the bit about Lago Atitlan (yeah, I know this post says June 1st, but I'm doing it on June 11th, and I want it to show up BEFORE my picture post). So here's what happened next...

I got violently ill on the lake. Monday night (the 26th), I showed up for dinner feeling sort of queasy already, and put a mojito on top of it. Actually, now that I think of it, the mojito could have been the cause, since the bartender said, "Yeah, I think I have some of that left," when I ordered my drink, and proceeded to make me a minty rummy bit of lovileness using the dregs of something sloshing around in a plastic container at the bottom of the fridge. Anyway, I ate a bit of tomato soup and started feeling really yucky, but ate an empanada anyway (minced meat, etc). Within about 1/2 hour, I was projectile vomiting. Seriously. Worst vomiting I've had in ages. Since summer of 2003, actually. I remember. It was that bad.

So all night long I'm getting up every 45 minutes to spend 10 minutes dry heaving. Nasty. I think at the worst of it I might have chosen to lay down and die, had that seemed like a viable alternative. That morning, I decided to bug out. See, May is the beginning of the rainy season, and it washes 9 months worth of shit (literally and figuratively) down off the mountains and canyons into the water supply. And Atitlan in particular is hit hard, since it has no surface outlet. They call the month Mayo Malo. Yeah I split.

So I went back to Xela and Conce, to hang with Miriam a bit before heading home. Just kinda got sick of traveling after a week of being sick followed by that travesty.

Pooped in a cup in Xela and found out I had...giardia. Which may or may not have been the cause of the vomiting. Doubt it. Sounds more like food poisoning.

Got into Xela on Tuesday night. It was an adventure doing so. By the time I took the boat from Santa Cruz to Panajachel, the direct buses had left, and wouldn't run again for a couple hours. So I took a chicken bus to Solola, then to Los Encuentros, then to Xela. It was 3.5 hours of craziness! :)

Miriam was quite sick still, too. So we lazied around a bit for a couple days, and I split on Friday morning. Took chicken buses 4 hours to the border, then a minivan packed with indigenous folks to Comitan. Weather was crappy there, so I just kept on going to San Cristobel again...which was lovely. Spent the night there, then took a minivan to Tuxtla Guiterrez for an evening plane ride to Mexico City. Had a decent night there in a party hostel, and got up early the next morning for a plane to Ciudad Juarez (which is a dump). Took a taxi from the airport to the border, and walked across, which was pretty cool. The bridge is long, and has lots of folks crossing back and forth, and the border agents are dicks. Surprise?

Crossed into El Paso, and walked around a bit till it was time for my bus to leave, around 6pm. Took the bus 4 hours to Albuquerque where my mom picked me up. That's about it!

Now I'm hanging out here, reading and running and biking and thinking. And writing, but nothing really worth sharing, yet.

I miss all my friends in SLC...which will making coming back in the fall all good! *grin* I keep saying I'll never spend another winter in that town, but lookie lookie.

Pax

Lago Atitlan! And future plans!

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Sun, 25 May 2008 20:28:00 +0000

Howdy all!

Reporting in from Guate Guate Guate!

I'm here at Lago Atitlan...a deep lake in the crater of a volcano! It's huge...sooooo big....
I'm staying at La Iguana Perdida in the lakeside village of Santa Cruz...the only way to get here is via scary-ass little motor boat! No roads! It's a hip little gringo hostel. It costs about $18 a day to stay here, the bed and all three meals included!

Miriam and I left Antigua yesterday afternoon, and it took about 3 hours of windy roads, deep into and out of ravines, to get here. The roads were good, but the turns were steep, and the dropoffs very scary...so I was nervous a bit...but apparently the insane Guatemalan drivers rarely drive anyone off the edge to their deaths...so.

I'm here alone, now. I was planning on returning to Xela with Miriam today, and then making my way back north this week...but Atitlan is so lovely and cheap, I decided to stay on a couple more days (Miriam needs to be in Xela tomorrow for work). I'll probably head out Tuesday or so, but there's a possibility of working reception here in exchange for room and board...so I might do that for a week or two. I dunno. Could be a neat experience. They do dive certification, kayaking, hiking, etc...and the place is probably one of the most beautiful spots on the planet.

That's all for now! Miss you all tons!

Pax

Quick update

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Thu, 22 May 2008 19:58:00 +0000

Howdy all!

I dont have a whole lot to report! Tuesday evening I got into Antigua, which is a beautiful city! Very European, sort of...cobblestone streets, lovely, tasty restaurants, pretty things for sale everywhere. Oh yeah, and a volcano bigger than Mount Olympus rising straight up above the town! Nobody climbs it much, though...its a toughy. I might climb one of the smaller ones, to the east or west, though...if I feel better. Miriam and I have both had the belly bugs come back! Dunno why...book says it can last up to a week...so if thats true I could still have another day or true of this crap (literally!). Ah well...its not that bad really, but it makes climbing vocanoes unappealing. Walking around the town and hanging out in the evening drinking and eating is quite pleasant, though.

We took another crazy camioneta into Antigua...crowded and driving too fast. This time, a dood came on board and for 40 minutes extolled the virtues of the nasty jar of ointment he was selling, complete with visual aides. Apparently, this stuff will cure foot odor, jock itch, diaper rash, herpes and even depression! I think the appropriate word is "snake oil salesman."

Still planning on going to Atitlan tomorrow evening. I hope I hope!

Pax

Piece of advice...

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Mon, 19 May 2008 16:41:00 +0000

Don´t eat funky meatcake things from comedores in rural highland Guatemala. Just don´t.
I spend the weekend more or less sick. Not too bad, really...but blech. Had to happen sooner or later, I suppose. So the last couple days I´ve been eating strictly canned or packaged food at Miriam´s house, as well as Subway at the mall thing in Xela. Yay.

On a better note: before I got sick, Friday afternoon Miriam and I climbed a volcano, and hung around the little lake that´s in the crater. It´s called Chicabal (or something like that), and was an absolutely hell of a hike, but amazingly beautiful. About 5 miles each way, we climbed climbed climbed...It´s at over 8000 feet in elevation, so I was out of breath a lot of the way. I´m still a little sore. The lake was a deep blue green, surrounded in dense jungley hills, full of mist and birds chirping. Way neat.

Tomorrow we are traveling to Antigua, where Miriam has a training thing. I´ll be spending Wed, Thur and Friday exploring around on my own, probably drinking with her and her Peace Corps buds at night. Then we´re spending the weekend at Lake Atitlan, which is a major tourist spot, as well as sacred to the Mayans. Then heading back to Xela, I presume. I´ll probably start making my way north again shortly after that.

Missin ya all!

Pax

Movin on south!

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Thu, 15 May 2008 00:02:00 +0000

Howdy again, all!

So the flight went great to Tuxtla. The place was a hellhole, though...super hot, super humid, and dirty and noisy. As soon as I got out of the airport taxi at el zono central, a dood hustled me into a van bound for San Cristóbal, and I was there in 45 min. The road was narrow and winding, up thru the mountains of Chiapas. Very beautiful.

San Cristóbal was amazing, though. High mountain town, brightly colored, leftist politics, zapatista supporters everywhere, etc. Lots of other travelers. Rains like mad every afternoon between about 4pm and 5pm...When I got in, I walked a couple miles to the hostel, and wondered the whole way why the sidewalks were 1.5 feet above the cobbled roads...it´s because the rain comes down so hard the streets fill up half a foot deep, or more. Everything sort of shuts down, and if you´re outside, nobody cares if you camp out in their doorway for a bit. The rain was so loud it shut down conversation in the crowded café I was hanging out in.

I spent last night staying up late chatting with two Canadians, two Aussies, a Brit and a Mexican. Was good fun. Did a little more walking around, looking at the tent market of the indigenous Chiapans...then took off for Comítan. Comítan is okay, but just sort of bland. Nothing really going on here of any interest to a traveler. Tomorrow I shuffle off toward Guatemala.

:)

-Pax

En Mexico!

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Mon, 12 May 2008 15:20:00 +0000

Hi all!

Just a quick note: I got into Mexico City around 2am last night, after more than 28 hours on a bus. Not sure I want to do that again. :) But it was kinda fun...in a weird, introspective sort of way.

This city is mega huge, but seems pretty cool. I stayed in a hip little youth hostel in the middle of the Distrito Historico last night, and will again tonight. It doesn´t deserve the reputation it has for being dirty and unsafe...it is actually very pretty and seems quite nice. I am sure there are plenty of scary areas, but that is true anywhere. I´m about to go out exlorin!

I leave tomorrow around 11:30am for Tuxtla Gutierrez, then on to San Cristobel de las Casas.

P

"Slow the Flow" a Farce?

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Sat, 04 Aug 2007 18:44:00 +0000

Is it possible that the entire water conservation PR campaign over the last decade or two is just greenwashing to distract us from the real issues behind water consumption?

Just a warning: what follows is partly hearsay, partly MY analysis of data, which is suspect. I'm really just playing with ideas here. I'm not expecting anyone to take any of this authoritatively. But let me know your opinions or conflicting (or supporting) data.

The 'common knowledge' in Utah is that we don't have enough water. I think most people also believe this has something to do with people watering their lawns at 4pm in the summer, letting their faucets leak and taking excessively long showers.

I wonder if this is actually true. I heard some data presented in a student report during a class this summer that purported the opposite, that claimed that things like that are not responsible for the water situation in this state. So I started doing some research.

When I started googling about water use in Utah, the first thing I came across was the Utah Rivers Council's "Rip Your Strip" program. This program is aimed at getting people to plant waterwise vegetation in the parking strip instead of wasteful lawn. They claim that 70% of water used in Utah is used outdoors, and almost half of that is used on lawns.

I kept doing more research.

Turns out, this is true.

It's also dead wrong.

First, take a look at this graph (found at www.utah.water.gov):

You can see here that indeed, nearly 70% of water use is outdoor use. But here's the catch:

It's 70% of residential use. Which is 66% of 'Total Public Supply."

Ok...so what does that mean? Well, at first glance, it seems to collaborate the public opinion of where our water goes. But...Total Public Supply is NOT total water USE!

Look at this graph from the U.S. Geological Survey (Utah Fresh Water Usage by Category, 2000):

Ok. Things get a little more interesting, no? According to this data, Public Supply makes up a whopping 13.4% of total Utah water use! So, if we were to cut our residential water use by HALF, we'd save 33% of that 13.4%. Which means we'd reduce our overall water consumption by 4.4 percent! And that's reducing our water use by HALF!!

What seems to be plain from this data is that if we REALLY want to conserve water, we should take a closer look at irrigation use, which makes up 81.1%. Any increase in efficiency here would make a HUGE difference.

But we don't. And why don't we? Could it have anything to do with the fact that the people irrigating have some of the most influence in state government?

Even worse, could it be because if we're worried about "Slowing the Flow," maybe we won't worry so much about other, much more pressing issues, like how bloody bad the air is in this valley? God forbid we actually start flipping off people driving Hummers.

Makes me wonder how many other 'public service' commercials and billboards that press popular environmental issues are bunk.

I'd just like to note one thing: I'm not saying there aren't important environmental (and water) issues. I'm just saying that we've been duped again, perhaps. Also, lawns ARE stupid and boring...so there's other reasons to 'rip your strip'... :)

Maybe we should worry more about why we build multi-million dollar pipelines to supply water to alfalfa farmers in Juab county...maybe we should be farming bioregionally, using crops that grow WELL in our climate, instead of the water-intensive crops we are currently dinking about with. Except those crops are the most profitable...especially when the water is subsidized by taxpayers!!

Push it.

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Wed, 01 Aug 2007 15:15:00 +0000

I have been spending an inordinate amount of time at Nostalgia, sitting on the suede couches, staring at books.

For those of you that don't know, this fall I will be teaching Comm 4610 Magazine Writing at the University of Utah.

This, more or less, freaks me out. That's why I've been spending so much time at the coffee shop: preparing. I know the subject fairly well, but it's the materials and the teaching methodology that has me worried. When it comes right down to it, I have no idea how to teach a class, let alone an upper division college class.

Which is exactly why it's freaking me out: I have the possibility of failing at this. It's been a long time since I've done something that truly challenges me, and it's getting to me, just a bit. I mean, lots of things are difficult, but they're usually difficult in the sense that they take a lot of work to accomplish. Classes I take, for example: for the most part, if you show up, read the material, study hard, you get an A. It's just a matter of putting the time into it.

But this...this I don't know how to do. It will require more than just work. It will require learning a new skill, not just acquiring more knowledge.

The fact that it's been a long time since I've attempted something honestly challenging tells me something about myself: Do harder things.

Complacency is something to avoid. Comfort should be used as a landing pad while you get your bearings for the next big push.

I need to push harder.

I'm excited for the semester to begin.

Like the Phoenix from the fire...

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Sat, 28 Jul 2007 19:13:00 +0000

Recently I've been rereading this book "We" by Robert Johnson. It's all about the psychology and implications of romantic love: how it interacts with the psyche, and, ultimately, if approached creatively, can balance the yin and yang of the self.

This isn't really what this post is about. But it's really gotten me thinking a lot about this balance, and what it means to have heart AND head. It's an introduction, none the less.

I can already tell that at first, this is going to get rather pessimistic sounding; cynical even. Keep reading, though, because I can all but promise a positive and uplifting ending, here.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my emotions, my motivations, my ethics. In corollary to this, I've also been thinking a lot about my friends and my interactions with them. I've been thinking a lot about how people see me, and how that changes who I am, and vice versa. All weighty topics.
People, in general, are disappointing. We, as humans, have so much potential. Of the animals, we alone have the capability to look consciously at ourselves, our emotions and motivations, and make choices on how to act. We alone have the capability to make decisions regarding right and wrong, what is ethical and what is not. Yet, so few are the people that actually DO these things. For the most part, people are reactionary, selfish, indulgent and weak. We have the capability to fix the problems in our societies and in the world, to stave off hunger, to cure any disease, to stop power hungry men from killing, abusing and torturing, both singly and in mass. We don't. Instead, we continue on with our own lives, doing little, or, at worst, contributing without second thought to our own actions (hear me, Hummer drivers??). I am learning, slowly, to love people, in general, anyway. It's really not that I hate the way they are, but rather I am angered that they are not what they COULD BE. Myself included, even if I DO feel like I try harder than most.

All of my friends are amazing. They are people, generally, of honesty, loyalty, integrity and passion. A couple of them (you know who you are) lately have made me aware of just how much I owe them. They are probably the two of my friends that have given me the most compared to what I have given back. One in particular I should thank: she has shown me the most loyalty and compassion when I have given her plenty of reason not to and little to encourage her.
Which leads me, in a meandering sort of way, to what I'm really getting at. Or at least the nearest prelude to it. I've gone through a lot in the last year...it just seems to keep coming at me. Recently this woman sent me a very supportive and heartfelt email, and closed with an encouragement not to become jaded or hard. To keep my heart open to the world. And this has gotten me thinking about this reaction.
A little over a year ago was probably the happiest time in my life. Everything seemed to have fallen into place: my life had love, direction, ambition and purpose. And then, in the space of less than two weeks, it all fell apart. This was the beginning of this lesson I perhaps only recently have been able to learn.
In the following months, I have been shown disappointment, disloyalty, disillusionment and betrayal from a number of examples. I open my heart (not just in romance) and get ignorance or disdain. A number of the people in my life have shown me behaviors and sides of themselves that hurt, deeply. I have been treated in ways I never saw coming from some of the people I would expect it from the least. I have been abandoned, deceived, and passed over.
And I feel the impulse to shut down. It's strong. I want to be angry, and bitter. I want to be cold. I want to turn the same self-serving attitude on the people (and the world) that have turned it on me. I want the protection of a walled-over heart.

The phrase "once burned, twice shy" pops to mind. You learn a lesson when you're hurt: don't do that again. But, instead, I think there is a truer lesson to learn: the ability to feel this way, to be disappointed and disillusioned and hurt, and instead of protecting yourself, open your heart to the world anyway. To say, "Yes, I love you" against all impulse to turn away. To look at the world, at people, and how fucked up it all is, and love it anyway.

I don't have it figured out. Not at all. But I do have my bearings again. I know where to turn, which direction to face, what path to walk. This is what I've been missing for a long time, now. What I've gained is not a 'thing', or even a knowledge. Instead, it's something I've lost, that I needed to lose: hope, expectation. Not the good kind of optimistic hope, but the kind of hope that keeps you attached to some particular outcome or behavior. These betrayals and disappointments are like a cleansing fire, and the good examples, the heartfelt loyalty I've been shown in the midst of it from unexpected sources cleared the smoke from the air.

Like the phoenix from the fire I feel like I've been reborn from the ashes of an intense and purifying blaze.

I know the last while I've been kinda weird to a lot of my friends that are closest to me. Expect something new.

On Safety...

noreply@blogger.com (Pax Rasmussen) — Sat, 27 Aug 2005 03:00:00 +0000

Today I read a short story by George Saunders. In this story, a man named Lars Farf, in returning to find his house burned to the ground, realizes how unsafe his family really is. So he rebuilds the house without a fireplace, disallows matches in the house, etc. The more he learns about fire, though, the more he realizes his family still isn't safe. All friction related activities are moved outside the house as well. Then he hears about floods, and figures his family isn't safe from them, either. Eventually, his family is living in Safety Pods, suspended above the forest floor, and fed through tubes.

All this got me to thinking about safety myself. Rather, got me thinking about it again. As a nation, we spend billions and billions of dollars a year to fight terrorism, so we can be safe from terrorists. We worry about cancer, heart disease, violent crime, etc. Disregarding the obvious problem that we don't actually worry about the things that are likely to kill us (like heart disease…we just keep on eating Oreos), and worry about the things that won't (like terrorism…check the stats…it's not gonna get ya), there's some other problems I'm concerned with as well.

First of all, I think a lot of concern with safety is really concerned with loss. What we're afraid of is losing something: a lover, our health, our property, our lives and our families lives.

This brings me to a lot of other stuff I think about a lot. No matter what I do, I can't be safe from loss. Not at all, in fact. In fact, I'm going to lose. Everything. Absolutely everything. Nothing at all in this world do I get to keep, not even my own body, and probably not even my own consciousness, or ego. And I'm worried about being safe. I worry about it a lot, in the back of my mind.

Still, though, there's something to be said about knowing, deep down, that everything around me is impermanent and fleeting. At first, this understanding knocked me to the ground, figuratively speaking. For a long time. Years, in fact. It took me a long time to pick up the pieces. I probably still am. The feeling is like nothing I've ever experienced. It's like that feeling when you think something really bad is about to happen and there's nothing you can do about it. Like watching a car bear down on someone you love dearly, but worse. Whenever I thought about it I could feel panic surging from my chest to settle in the tips of my fingers. I wanted to shake them, fiercely. I felt like running in circles.

What to do after that calms down though? When the realization that I'm completely and utterly fucked, from the beginning, and there's nothing I could do about it? That it was in no way up to me, that this is just the way the universe is organized? In a word? Freedom. I felt it coming pretty quickly after that, really.

The universe is a terrible place. Existence is terrible. Buddha was right: samsara is fire. Everything is fire, burning, burning. All is consumed, and nothing remains in one place, whole, for long. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, is how we say it in the west. At first glance, it's cruel and harsh, unforgiving and cold. Everything slips through my fingers like so much dust and ash.

But like everything else in creation, there are two sides to it (and if you get into the numerology of it all, the two become three, and with the original two, it's five. Get that Ryan?) The other side is beautiful. But to get to the beauty is difficult, and requires a sacrifice. Nothing is free. The sacrifice is yourself and all you hold dear.

The universe shimmers. It's impermanent, and that's what makes it shift and evanesce like oil on water, like the northern lights. Everything is like this. Even one little bit of something permanent would ruin the surface tension of it all and it would coalesce and precipitate, sinking into the blackness. The universe works on a binary, on and off, light and dark, being and not-being. We really can't mess with this at all, yet we walk around day to day, all through our whole lives pretending this isn't true, trying to secure a place for ourselves, trying to be safe and secure, warm and protected. This is not the real world. Doing this might make a person feel good, but I think the price for that good feeling is too high. It's not the Truth.

This brings me around to freedom again. I am freer now, and getting freer all the time. Buddha's response to this was to break the curse, to release all attachment to Samsara. This, truly, is annihilation. It's loss of ego, absorption into the Big I, OHM. I like the fire, the burning. I will be consumed. I choose it freely.

Of course, there are some drawbacks. Some of which I've come up against to deal with recently, and found, surprisingly, myself to be rather well equipped. Better than I'd hoped, for sure.

The reciprocal of no longer really needing or wanting or even respecting safety is that I no longer really find myself interested in interacting with others on such levels either. In other words, I don't really make people feel safe. I've lost more than one lover to this—my first, and one quite recently. In our culture, and in most cultures, people want to feel safe and secure in their relationship. I've even tried this myself a couple of times. I have to admit, I like it. I have a natural predilection to move that direction. To want to feel assured that my lover will be there the next day, the next week, the next year. This is never assured, no matter what. No matter what my lover tells me, no matter what vows we make. People get diseases, hit by busses, fall in love with other people, or simply fall out of love with you. There's absolutely nothing that can be done about this. But we don't believe that, and try, we try really hard, to make it safe. And by trying hard like this we build elaborate and complicated cages around our lovers, ourselves, and each other together.

In fact, quite a few times people I know have seen the way I am and heard the way I am, and ask me how I can be like that. The answer? I really can't find any other way to be. And what's more, when I've walked away from all this that most people find so important and integral in their lives, I've found something else. It's hard to understand, and even harder to convey to another person. It has something to do with freedom. It has something to do with truth and honesty. It's not a safe feeling at all. In fact, sometimes the terrible side of it rears its head and I find myself shaking, unable to sleep at night. Other times, though, when I watch people stuck in shitty relationships, like my sister and her fuckhead husband, or when I watch people working 40, 60, 80 hours a week at a job I know they hate doing, I feel ok. I know that if I get sick of doing what I'm doing, I can take it or leave it. Nothing traps me. I have nothing to lose.