Home Again :)

John Denver Land

We made it to COlorado. Pete woke up early and drove while i laid in the back and slept. Oh, the poncho myth proved true. The van is now filled with "indian" things (aka cheap Mexican Products). We dropped about a hundred each. (Yes creen i did get you turquoise :) ) I think it was the only thing that was actually made by the native peoples. But it was really cool, very nice people. We drove through the petrified forest and then got back on the i-40. Oh ya, our beloved Barnes and Nobel in Flagstaff tried to tow us. We made it all night but in the morning at about 7 they called out the big guns. I woke up to the sound of a BIG truck next to us. The guy was writing something on a clip board and it took me a second to realize what he was doing. I got up, walked to the driver seat in my boxers, started the car and drove off. No words, i think my appearance and the quick glimpse of the interior of the van was enough to make him realize we cant afford to get towed. SO we drove out of Flagstaff feeling like a bunch of criminals and drove to Las Vaegas( not the real Las Vegas but the one in New Mexico). Then pete drove early to Pueblo and now were in his Sister's house. SO we'll be here for a while and then we're homeward bound. I miss AK. The Rockies got nothing on us:)

hello

Hello. It’s been a while since my last post, but I ll try to make up for it. Lets see, I don’t think I’ve posted since Platina and to tell you the truth I really cant remember all that’s happened. I think peter has posted but I haven’t had a chance to look. Im sure if he did he properly supplied you with a poetic version of all the events. So ill try something new and use good old bullets to rush through some of the stuff and say a little something about each:
• Platina monastery- It was an incredibly peaceful place, and a great retreat, but I was ready to go. I felt strangely out of place, lets just say I don’t think I ll be a monk any time soon.
• Fr. Steven’s in Sacramento- Great, great, great, people. I could go on and on about how kind and hospitable they were, but it would take pages. We saw Stasia and Mat and Mary.
• West to San Francisco- We met up with a fr. James at the old church of St. John of San Fran. He a was a great person and we ended up spending the whole day with him. We had a good meal and then drove over to St. Tikons to see St. J’s cell. It was an amazing experience. We wandered around china town the next day and did all the things your suppose to do in SF : Golden gate bridge, Lombard st., Chinatown, the wharf, and sourdough. It was cool. Oh ya, and pete got in a fender bender. It sufficiently shaken but after we reassured him we don’t give a hoot what the van looks like and as long as the other guy was cool about it, we don’t care. He wasnt actually that mad, just irritated. The San Fran streets are mad! We drove to St. Timothy’s in the morning and went to liturgy there. We also saw “The Green Lantern” at the local theater. If your thinking about going and seeing it, don’t. It was like every other “super” movie I have seen except everything was green.
• Drove north to St. John Monastery in Manton- It was one of the highlights of the trip. We were pleasantly greeted with Greek coffee and Turkish delight. I felt almost like Edmond except instead of an evil queen, it was very kind monks giving me the TD. We loved it so much we stayed an extra night ( after much positive pressure from father N) We were all very happy we stayed and spent more time with the monks. It is hard to tell how purely kind and open they were. There was nothing shallow about their hospitality, they just worked hard to make you as comfortable and welcome as they could. They all seemed to be happy and they all had a great sense of humor. As fr. Schmemman said, he never trusts an orthodox person without a sense of humor. We saw Brother Andrew (aka Ross Bell) and spent some time with him. We also spent time with Fr. Meletios , the abbot, and Father Nektarios . All three are great people. I cant stress this enough how welcoming they were.

I can see my plan to use bullets to keep things short didn’t work, but oh well : ) So at this point, being very “churched” out as we now call it , we left and drove south. We went to Yosemite yesterday just as it was getting dark. Great place, but over rated. I think it is a place for all the cali people who have never seen real mountains to go out into the “wild.” I mean, they got to put all their expensive gear to use some where. We all hiked up to the waterfall and stood in the mist with our shoes off. On our way out we passed a young guy goin up to do the same 10 minuet walk. He was decked out head to toe in Patagonia and north face. It was kind funny. Here we come looking like a gang of homeless people strait off the streets and this man is suited up in hundreds of dollars of gear. I felt like I didn’t belong in Yosemite. The same way whistler was fake, Yosemite had a little fakeness to it. But whatever floats their city boats, more power to em. This morning we woke up and drove through Vegas. It was just how I imagined and probably just how you imagine it, loud and big. We went to the largest gift shop in the world packed wall to wall with things that no one would ever need. Like any other kid would, I pushed a button on a “try me” doll I saw on one of the shelves. It proceeded to cuss me out about something to do with me being a terrible driver .As I found out the store was packed with these dolls that spewed offensive white trash slogans. It was still kinda funny though, to see what rock bottom society looked like. I fully expect pete to poetically criticize the “worldliness” of it all, so ill just leave that to him. My conclusion was this, I was glad to see it but I’ll never go back. We drove east to the Grand Canyon, and at the moment we are driving to flagstaff. The Grand Canyon was very beautiful. In a weird way, it looked like a painting, like I wasn’t really looking at the real thing. We are on our way to the promise land, aka Barnes and Noble. They have free wifi, clean bathrooms, and when you wander in still sleep drunk in the morning after sleeping in their parking lot, there is coffee. Great place this is. Oh, in other big news, I have given up chewing my nails. It is proving far harder then I thought. Im sure it is somewhat similar to quitting heroin, but I wouldn’t know. The only other person I have ever met that chewed their nails more then me was G barb. My fingers are on the fast track to looking like hers, nubby and round. Can you belive it, im so bored im talking about my fingernails! Often times blogs turn into people just spewing out personnel facts that nobody really cares about, and I feel as though ours is getting there : ) Next ill be rambling on about who knows what. So, on to new Mexico in the morning, after spending an unhealthy time in B and N mooching off their wifi. Hans claims that there are 5 dollar ponchos, and if this turns out to be true, expect to never see me in anything else. It don’t matter, church, work, school, it will be ponchos : ) Im gonna buy 100. Well here I go again rambling on about ponchos, so I think this is a sign I need to be done. oh and hi cindy!

Surpassing the Material

Well here I am overdue on my promise to update after our return from the monastery, it has been some time since then and much has passed. I did not feel capable of writing publicly but I will attempt to catch you on what has transpired. We arrived at the Brotherhood of St Herman at around three in the afternoon on monday the 13th. We had spent some time winding through the arid, tree dotted hills around Platina to find it. When we did we greeted the first monk we saw, He was tall though mildly stooped as if by a burden unseen, white haired and bearded, his face lined but clear, his eyes sharp and fierce but without malice. I was intimidated and yet felt assured of a calm kindness. He pointed us to the guest house where we were welcome to stay. I found out later that he was Fr. Hilarion, the Abbot. Everything here seemed without excess or guile. All had a feeling of tranquil grace, though hardened and without ease. This was clearly a place of great struggle but great reward. I felt as one who did not belong, no one made me feel unwelcome but I nonetheless felt as an intruder in this place peace. It was the darkness within me that could not comprehend the light. It was a feeling of conviction, as though this place were a mirror by which one can peer into his own soul. A cold shower later and I was in vespers after which was dinner. We were then given a tour of the monastery grounds, at the end of which we visited the cell in which Fr Seraphim Rose lived and worked. Again I cannot fully express the feeling of the place, it was as though all facade had been stripped away and by merely being there the facades of my self were also being peeled back. After compline I went to bed in anticipation of an early rise for matins and hours at 4:30am. I wrestled with sleep and many foolish thoughts all throughout the service, at the end of which we had a pleasant breakfast. By the time we returned to the guest house it was 8:30am and succumbing to my weariness I took a nap. Later in the afternoon we thanked Fr Hilarion and took our leave of the monastery. Though only one day was to short a time it nonetheless left me with a deep impact. And so we ventured on to Sacramento, my mind reeling and my mood introspective. In sacramento we visited the Howells and had a very pleasant time swimming, golfing and playing croquet. Many thanks Fr Steven, Sally and Jon! And have a safe rest of your trip Matthew, Stasia, Isaac, Mary and kids. Just yesterday it was then that we set our course for San Francisco and crossing the impressive Bay Bridge entered the city. My expectations were, as you may expect from my previous entries, not high. We went to the overcrowded "Fisherman's Wharf" to get some clam chowder and sourdough bread which we then ate on one of the piers for lunch. Alcatraz was not far in the distance and the Goldengate was hazily visible beyond, it was all very scenic with sailboats gliding lazily towards the horizon. We then wandered over to visit the famous sea lions, then through some various shops and past a second rate attention hungry entertainer. Don't get me wrong, it is a very nice city, probably my favorite so far but I had already had enough of the noisy crowds. So we set off to meet with the priest who would show us Saint Johns relics, that was at least our original impression, what actually transpired was far better than we could have planned or hoped. Finding our way through town took a little time but we arrived at last at The Joy of All Who Sorrow or "the Old Cathedral" as it is sometimes called. It was where Saint John first served when he arrived with his orphans and refugees from the samoan islands. A beautiful old Episcopal church with rafters fashioned of redwood by english shipwrights, all gleaming with a warm sheen, The peak of the roof was almost imperceptible in its shadows as though opening into a great beyond. It had been transformed and was now an Orthodox sanctuary, lined with Icons and steeped in prayer. Fr James, the resident priest-monk, told us many things, including the story of the cathedral and of Saint John. In this place I stood in awe, the calm was... tangible. The walls seemed alive, the Icons glowed with warmth and in the midst of the stillness a sound of soft footsteps won wood floors would echo through, though no one had moved. It was a place unlike any other, I felt out of time and removed from the world outside. It bowed my heart again as at Platina, I could imagine the words of God to Moses, "Remove thy shoes for the ground on which you stand is holy". It all overwhelmed me and moved me to tears to stand there, so unworthy. Fr James then held a short prayer service to St John and blessed us and our van. This was all swiftly surpassing my expectations when he then had us stay to for dinner. An excellent meal in the excellent company of him sister Simone and Alexandria. Fr James is an excellent storyteller and he told us many more stories of the cathedral and St John whilst occasionally jumping up to check on the prophora he was baking. After the summation of our meal he took us to visit the cell where St John had lived while in San Francisco. It was not far away, situated within an apartment that looked much the same as all the others on the street except for it's iron gate with an Orthodox Cross. Within was another sanctuary within the city. The living room was a chapel, with the same Iconostasis from the orphanage in Shanghai and several relics. Every wall in the building had an Icon if not many, and many of them were miraculously self-restoring. Down a hall was his simple cell, possessing a desk two chairs and decorated with many more Icons as well as a picture of his Parents. The second chair was one which his orphans had bought for him in which he said his prayers and slept, He had no bed, indeed the room was not even large enough to fit one. We all took turns to sit in his chair, when my time came it was again overwhelming; a feeling of grace and love permeated the very room. We were invited to stay the night at the cathedral, what a blessing to sleep in a place so tranquil, a place where a Saint had served. This morning we arose and drove to the new cathedral for Divine Liturgy. We saw its onion domes gleaming in the morning sun from several blocks away, inside was magnificent, all was covered in beautifully frescoed Icons. Off to the right side of the nave lay the reliquary of St John. As I approached I felt surrounded, embraced, by a warm and loving presence. There he lay, his body un-decayed and his vestments untouched. Now I don't care what we see for I have seen him who the city, and the world was not worthy. Glory to God for these unexpected sidetracks! Nothing else could have been better. It reminds of for whom I live and for what I must strive! O holy Hierarch John pray to God for us!
PDTL

The Viridian Temple

Well here I am in the Redding Barnes and Noble hoping for the inspiration of the muse but feeling gripped rather with restless desire to browse books and subsequently, spend money. Yet nonetheless I will press on in the hope that inspiration may come from perseverance, I will let you be the judge of whether or not I succeed. Where to start though, lets see. Ah, with an end will I begin. An end of a pleasant and long overdue visit to my Aunt Rebecca and cousin Mike, I will not bore you with my personal feeling and thoughts on this matter, and after all they are personal. To them I say though, first how happy I was to see both of you again also many thanks for your kind hospitality. From their driveway we passed on southward again, straight through central Oregon till we reached Grants Pass at which point we veered SW towards the great redwoods. After a brief and smooth "agricultural inspection" at the CA border we pressed on, our every mile became more and more as fledgling steps into a great forbidden mystery. As with anything I had my expectations of the redwoods, but as with anything reality can be so much more. The great trees loomed on all sides, crowding the very road. I felt as a visitor in their land, a child at their feet. Ancient and majestic they are, I only can wonder at them. Trees I have always loved and here were their paragons! Just a few steps into them and I felt lost in mystery and wonder, moss and fern blanketed all surfaces they could reach, punctured through by gentle flowers that shone forth from the green as stars shine from the blue sky. And all around were the giants, rising up as though to touch the very sky. Certainly cutting it off mostly from view so that all the light was filtered through their leaves and washing all in a half-light that only deepened the sense of mysticism. I half expected to observe a troupe of nymphs pass me by or perhaps be greeted be Pan himself. All in all it felt me feeling small and incapable of truly taking it all in. We passed that night at a campground which we had had to navigate a narrow winding dirt road in the dark of night to get to, once there we went to bed with the hope that it would reveal itself to be an amazing place in the morning light. When I did awake however, the only thing that did not disappoint was the ocean which was near. The locale was less than I had hoped though and the campground showers turned out not to work. So deeming it unworthy of another thirty dollars we drove to Eureka and saw X-men: First Class which we all enjoyed. In the morning we attended St Innocent's parish for Pentecost. Our first service in two weeks as I realized half way through, as we had been on the canoe trip three sundays ago and last sunday we passed somewhere in Canada. From there we had yet another breathtaking drive through he more arid mountains of CA heading east to Redding, Rolling hills covered in pines stooping down into valleys of farm land past which snow capped mountains rose. At times I felt I had indeed passed into middle earth, as though wandering through Rhuduar and gazing at the Misty Mountains afar off. After watching some more X-men movies we rented last night I awoke and wandered over here to buy coffee and a book, and now I have wrapped things up I suppose. Ben and Hans are sitting at the table with me being rather distracting, but no news there I suppose. We are preparing to depart for St. Hermans monastery to stay for two nights, a time I am most looking forward to. So till we return from thence, keep us in your prayers.
PDTL

This is our Band Photo. If we ever start a band, expect this to be the cover :)

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West side

Cali
Well, the Grey pilgrim has made it to California. Two nights ago we drove south on the 101 from Salem. Just before the border we branched on to a little road called the Redwood Highway. The drive was amazing. It was about 6:00 when we got to the redwoods and it was getting dark. The strange light added to the already mystic feel of the trees. While we were driving I couldn’t help but get a certain Willy Wonka song out of my head: “come with me, and you’ll see… a world of pure imagination.” (the best song in the movie) We pulled out onto a little side road, and began to drive through utter blackness to a campground that was 6 miles into the redwood park. Going about the speed of molasses in winter, we finally got to the campground. It was perfectly nestled between the redwood forest and the cali beach. The campground, filled with your perfect blend of Patagonia wearing yuppies and young Asian people, was pretty nice. My dad had done a little research into the place before we arrived and told us it had showers. After going to the bathroom that night, I confirmed that it did have showers and I eagerly was looking forward to washing up in the morning. I rolled out of bed at the modest hour of 11 and walked down to bathe. The shower ended up not working. To make it worse the whole time I was figuring this out, trying to twist knobs this way and that, some lady kept trying to open the door. After knocking once, I replied, “occupied,” and went back on my way twisting random knobs. She tried again and again, and each time I could hear her yelling to her husband, “I think someone is in here.” Now thoroughly annoyed, I got back on my dirty cloths and retreated back to the car. The day did get better though. We all read on the beach and got our tans on and then cooked a nice stir-fry meal. I’m learning quickly in life that it is worth every penny to buy chicken that is not FMV. For those of you that are not familiar with FMV, it stands for “ For Maximum Value,” and is the Fred Meyer’s equivalent to Costco’s Kirkland brand. To put it plainly, that chicken not only didn’t have “maximum value,” but it had little to none. (Peter is feeling a little ill, and we’re blaming it on the chicken) We drove south to Eureka, CA, and slept in the Denny’s parking lot. We woke up and went to the small OCA church just down the way a little. The service was classically OCA. It was very nice and at coffee hour we quickly became the hottest attraction. It seems like whomever (look dad, I used the right whom) you meet, everybody has some story about Alaska. After further spreading our Alaska fame, we pulled out and headed on a small road across northern California to meet up with the 5. I called fr. Silas to see if there was any chance we could stay at Platina monastery and after a brief chat he told me he would do all he could. He was like the Deacon Pat of northern Ca, and after about an hour or two he called back and told us that he had got a-hold of the monastery and they were expecting us Monday night. So right now, we are in the Food Maxx parking lot, and we just got done watching a movie. Continuing on the X-men streak, we watched the first x-men with a brief break of ninja Assassin and then chased it with X- men two. We played Catan in the Barnes and Noble earlier and bought a new book on tape. Unfortunately be drank the good wine first in listening to the Lord Of the Rings the first week, and now we have moved on to the bad wine . SO in the morning we’re off to Platina and the hills of northern California. Continue to pray and think of us and we will write again when we come down from the monastery. On the 15th we are meeting Mathew and Anastasia in Sacramento at Fr. Steven’s house.

Around the Coast

After our time in Goldendale we came down to the amazing coast of Oregon. The forests are dense and overflowing with life, seemingly to the point of bursting. Everywhere are bristling green leaves, tall grasses and bright yellow bushes burst through in places with beautiful contrast. The trees are tall and vibrant and seem to swell and crest up to the sky, their boughs lean over us as we pass like an archway bearded in moss. No patch of earth can be seen for all the thick undergrowth, all tangling together in a tumult of vines, grasses and bushes. We weave throughout as on either side hills and mountains peak up into mist and cloud. Around a bend such as this we come to find the ocean in all it’s splendor laid out before us to the horizon. Foaming and glorious, lapping upon the shore. Further down it crashes upon the might of haystack rock rising stoically out of the mist and foam. Here in the lovely environs of Cannon Beach we met up with my uncle Tim whom it was a blessing to see. That night I wandered the beach alone and was again struck with the awesome beauty, though this time veiled in dusk.
The sea ever muttering.
The great rocks rising.
The clouds gently veiling.
The moon softly shining.

Now I am visiting my cousin Mike whom I have not seen in far to long. It seems longer than this morning we left Cannon Beach. Between then and now we visited the Tilamook creamery/factory and had quite a bit of fun watching them cut and package blocks of cheese. After our tour we did our best to empty the cheese samples, and as if that weren’t enough we then split a tub of cake batter ice cream. Weariness is creeping upon me though and we have yet more miles to go before we reach the redwoods tomorrow. Strange though this trip has been increasing my restlessness rather than quelling it, every place we pass I want to stay longer and yet pass on and see others also. Well I am tired and rambling without inspiration so I’ll cut it off here.
Goodnight all,
PDTL

Even more photos

more pictures

If i were rich i would own cannon beach

Peter has been giving me a hard time about my grammar so i promise i will amend it this post. I guess i use the word "are" and "then" in all the wrong places.i bet you noticed too dad:) Oh by the way we FINISHED lord of the rings! GOd bless ya Sam, you are a true hero of middle earth. My uncles was great and we happened to arrive on my aunts birthday. I realized how much i love my family and we all had a really good time. i caught my aunt up on all the neighborhood drama ( there's tons) and watched my uncle roast his coffee. After receiving four home cooked meals ( thank you Angela and aunt Leslie) we rolled out and headed to the Dunaway Vacation headquarters ( cannon beach). WE met up with pete's uncle tim and he treated us to some chowder at a beachfront restaurant. His uncle had a crew house he was living in with other guys from his construction project and he let us crash there. I went walking on the beach and it was amazing. I couldn't help but remember the photos of grandma Barb doing ti-chi on the beach in front of haystack rock. I'm not gonna lie, in memory i did a ti chi pose or two. I remembered a couple of the moves she showed me on her ti chi for seniors video that we watched last year. Being from Alaska, i didn't know what to do with myself at the beach. We allowed ourselves to be 5 for about half an hour and we made sand castles. Being in the lord of the rings mode that seems to be the theme of this trip, we pretend we were building Gondor and Rohan out of sand and the oncoming tide was saruman. I know someone in my family is cringing with embarrassment so i'll move on. Right now we are in Salem, OR, visiting peter's cousin mike. We have been reduced to Starbucks multiple times and so here i am, sipping on a burt americano in an uncomfortable seat while overweight people order "venti" mocha coconut Frappuccinos. Macrina, your life saving energy drinks are out and we must rely on other substances to fill our tummies. Feel free to mail some to Fr. Steven's house( i prefer red bull). jk. One thing i didn't realize living in alaska, was how few skater/hippster/goth people we had up there compared to the states. It seems like if your between the ages of 13 and 25 you have to wear tight jeans and either a solid purple shirt or somthin to do with new york. Btw, the Oregon coast is beautiful. The tress and brush lining the road is amazing and rivals alaska. If i had to live anywhere so far, i would live on the oregon coast. Hello uncle eric, luanne, and Matthew an, welcome to the blog. Tomorrow we are gonna drive further south and maybe even get to the red woods. I'm looking forward to it very much. I will try to put more pictures up cause know that is what people really want, instead of me just rambling. We hope to go to the church in Eurika for pentecost. ALrighty, thanks for reading,
ben d

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Pictures Finally

Coffee and Calm

I’m sitting here in the tranquil yard of Fr Michael’s house near Goldendale, Oregon. A breeze is making its way through the trees around me, chilling but not biting, swift yet not hurrying. It is as though it has no destination but merely wanders playfully through the hills. The land is lively and full of muted green but dry. The trees are scrappy, sparse and predominately pine; bearing the stoic pride of those who against the odds live and thrive, much the same as the evergreens of the north Yukon. Veritable pillars of the eco-system they are, this always amazes and impresses me the role plants play together to shape and form an environment. The undergrowth is full of bright yellow and delicate purple or blue as flowers spring forth from midst of long grasses and gnarled shrubs. All of it seems to bear a mystery, fields looking green from afar reveal the orange earth as I approach them. All is subtle beauty. Mildly now the air brings to me the smell of fresh coffee drifting over from the garage where Fr Michael’s roaster is. Gleaming golden-brown the beans come out, warm and smelling of heaven. Transformed from their dull yellow-green from before, tantalizing the senses into desire to partake. Hard now to believe it is that just yesterday we were in the heart of Seattle where we had arrived late on the 5th. The nighttime cityscape was impressive but all the lights had the seeming of eyes that have long ceased dreaming. Into the heart we plunged and toured the lit up central streets, nice as far as cities go. Soon however large groups of society’s rejects started to pass us, why is it that these “grand” cities always cast some down without recourse. One of these stopped to tell us about a good place for showgirls and proceeded to ask us if we could do him a favor and give him five bucks. We gave him some Canadian cash. The next day we found showers at a port office, much to our joy. Proceeding then to tour the pike market and pike place starbucks, the market was interesting and diverse. The city in general had the attraction of deadly adders eyes, darkly enticing but not to be trusted. I guess I just don’t like big cities that much. On our way south to Goldendale we stopped to see Ben’s cousin in Ellensburg. A most pleasant stop it was as we ran in to more people we knew there. Reuniting with old friends is always a blessing. Then to where I am now we came. A short time only yet to be in such peace and hospitality has seemed a long time indeed. Tomorrow we are off again but I will look back to this as a highlight of the trip I’m sure. Oh and be sure to get some coffee from Father Michael’s Roastery.
Till next time,
PDTL (5/7/11)

Vancouver- better then the rest or Canada but still a lot worse then america

We woke up just outside Whistler this morning, and began are daly drive at about ten. On the drive down the windy road to vancouver, are breaks caught fire. After waiting for the brakes to cool we pushed on like molasses in the winter and finally got to Vancouver. The last 10 miles on the hwy. were amazing and it rivaled the view of the driving to girdwood. Vancouver on the other hand , was not amazing. When we pulled in we went straight to the city center and parked to walk around. We went to a flea market that was pretty cool and we where quite enjoying ourselves when the lack of food and sleep began to quickly grind down on our already sensitive moods. We drove around the rather shady parts of the city for the next hour until we found a little grocery. As the rest of Canada, it was expensive, small, and reminded you of something america, just less good. WE picked up some bread , cheese and meat, and set out for the park to have our little picknick. We sat on the crowded park in downtown and ate. Surrounded by homeless people we ate are humble meal in relative silence. to fill the void of entertainment while i ate, i watched a particular homeless man. he had on a harley davinson leather vest and was sitting about 25 yard from us on one of the park walls. he had a small dog dressed in a superman cape and was attempting to feed it pieces of a banana. the dog, who wasnt havin any of it, was stnding five feet away and was just barking. after about fifteen minuets of this are meal was over. the smell of weed was slowly crawlin down the slope of hill from a slightly younger group of homeless people who were enjoying a little afternoon smoke above where we were sitting . on this note, we got back in van and decided to go on to seattle. On our way out we got lost for about an hour or two in the crazy suburbs. it didn't help that half the building sighs were in chinese. we got back on the road and got through the border easier then before. Right now im siting in the whole foods parking lot in seattle and we are going to explore tomorrow.
We hope to have pictures soon.
Hello Christine and Will
Sorry but which will is this. i know a couple and i thought long and hard but i couldnt think of which will you are.
Oh, christine, i packed your bbq sauce and we are looking forward to it very much.
By the way there are two of posing on this blog. Myself, ben, and peter. you can probably tell are writing apart because of our diffrent style. I hope you enjoy are different views!
-ben

Long Night to Vancouver

There was a point during the long drive of yesterday when a subtle change began in the landscape surrounding. The trees had seemed as ones who by necessity strove above all for their own survival in harsher more radical lands, but now more of the slighter seeds thrived. I wish I knew all their types but ruefully admit I do not. It was a new feel in the land though, trunks grew longer, leaves were more vivid and fine as the evergreens faded slowly. We passed through several rural communities, very pleasant and peaceful was the drive through these. The great increase of these such communities and towns was perhaps the greatest token of change, whereas in the Yukon and northern BC they were few and far between. Further we pressed and long into the night.  I slept in the back to be fresh to drive on after Ben tired but it seems that he downed a rockstar or two so it turned out I never got the chance. When I did al length awake at length it was to their screams and shouts as we pulled over to the side of the road, which as it turned out had been winding steeply down for some time and our brakes were now red hot and smoking. So there we just decided to sleep for the rest of the night. After a few hours sleep and the brakes sufficiently cooling I finished out the decent and drove to Vancouver, which we had gotten within 2 hours of the night before. First though we passed through Whistler, which had a most fantastic setting but the town itself felt false and contrived to me. I suppose this was much in thanks to the 2010 winter Olympics. Not far on again was Squamish, another ski resort town nestled in the beautiful Canadian Rockies, here the feeling was more natural and less like a neon bulb. Salt was now on the air though as we wove up and down and my spirit soared to know the ocean was near. Sure enough as we crested another rise there was the inlet and several great boats upon it! This portion of the road has been the highlight of my trip so far, so pure the air felt, so mild the weather and so fun was the road as it wound through the coastal mountains. All was lush and green yet snow capped mountains still towered close at hand. Then slowly from the right came the glint of steel and glass in the morning sun, Vancouver. Mixed were my feelings then for cities always stifle me to some degree and I loved the road I was on so much I never wanted it to end. But there it was and I had heard good things of it also. It was a fair city, though tall and somewhat cold feeling. We then wandered its streets aimlessly for a while, visiting a flea market in the slums by the highway and the rich downtown area. In the end best I can describe my feeling of it is that I have no desire to stay, It was full of grand buildings, opulent stores and a grand harbor. Yet I could not ignore the many people I saw who seemed to have been forgotten by society left to wander those streets looking for handouts and soda cans to recycle. That is the bitterness of all such “Centers of Society and Culture” I ever encounter and thus my lack of love for them. A sea of souls isolated from one another, it makes me shudder and long for the road again. But here we are now searching for china town without a proper map. Wish us luck, and maybe with some this will have been posted by the time we leave the city.
PDTL

Of Tires and Troubles

            As you know it was yesterday that we lost a tire not far south of Fort Nelson, BC. Our hopes soaring as we ventured on southward. Ambitiously we planned to go far into the night ever on toward Vancouver. Then it was that disaster as it seemed struck, tearing us down from our heights unto pits of anger or despair. We had no spare only a temporary tire, not even meant for speeds over 45. Accusatory thoughts began to claw the back of my mind on the slow and seeming eternal crawl back to For Nelson. Into silence I sank and so did the others, I know not exactly what their thoughts bore. I only guess theirs may have resembled mine, unjust frustration with the others. But an hour or so of time alone for the three of us seemed to work wonders enough for all our moods, we reunited happily and it was then that this blog was actually started. Well there I have revisited yesterday but now we are caught up, But what of the tire you must be wondering. No tire shop had been open last night and so we had to wait until this morning. Yet again we slept past our alarm but nonetheless got to “Kal Tire” not long after they opened. A friendly fellow asked how he could help us and we then described our situation. Then we waited in the lobby feeling akin to someone waiting expectantly at a hospital. After a time, I know not how long, he returned to the front and spoke to his boss rather than us, so it was we overheard from our seats of worry that he could not find a tire our size. More trouble only it seemed would be our lot here! Dean, the boss then went to the back to look himself. Hope rekindled within our hearts yet fearfully as though a wraith that would disappear if clung to. Yet longer we waited in such a state as other customers filtered through and men busied about their work. I at length followed one of the many urges of the mortal flesh, the call of the restroom. When I returned Ben and Hans were gone, so I went out and found them in the van and there was also a new tire! They informed me that though Dean could not find one of the correct size he had instead given us for free a smaller studded winter tire, enough to get us to Vancouver. So it is that by the grace of God good can be woven from any situation. Now we are on the road hoping that we can push far tonight if all goes well, and hopefully we can find some internet to post this also. For the time I look on to more road winding through green forests.

PDTL. (5/3/11)

Thoughts so far

Three days so far, the majority of our time has been spent in the van and I wish I could say the same about being on the road. Though the last two nights that we planned on pushing through for a long day of travel we have run into stalling problems. Now I am sitting in the parkinglot of a "Fas Gas" in Fort Nelson, watching the sun slowly make its way unto setting. My mood has evened out from the earlier frustration of yet again being prematurely halted by a flat tire when there are hundreds of miles that I had hoped to cover today. I must remind myself of the merit of what we have covered so far, 1200 miles logged from Eagle River and the most remote and isolated areas of the Alcan already behind us. Ah! What magnificence of nature we passed through, I felt as a man soaking in a tub of warm clean water unable to absorb it all who's skin begins to wrinkle. Passing through unending forests of vivid green on the winding road, each turn revealed yet another flood of viridian beauty that my eyes could not seem to take all in. Passing down through gentle valleys dotted with small fields that seemed lonesome sentinels ever threatened to be overtaken by the forrest surrounding. What secrets it must hold my mind is tantalized as yet more mountains rise to caress the clouds with their snow capped peaks. There the world felt old and new all at once, A bastion of solitude. So many pass through yet so few inhabit these lands enticing yet wild and undaunted. Again we pass a lake of pristine waters shimmering in the diffused sunlight making its way through the sheet clouds. Then up and further up our road took us to a land where it seemed winter never left, the trees grew smaller nigh almost unto shrubs all washed in a dusting of snow that fell softly yet incessantly upon us. Just before the I doubted that the ascent would stop we crested the pass and the vista then was truly breathtaking. From our snow capped position upon the world we could see so far and wide this land of wonder. Down far below a great lake lay still as if dreaming in endless sleep surrounded by mighty rock rising up to form the base of still more mountains and mountains beyond, painted all be the varying shades of the green trees, more pale at the base where the aspens were still fresh budding though towards the top the hue became more subdued as of those who had long weathered the wind and cold protecting their fainter kin below, yet tall and proud they stand unconquered and unwaning as their color turns to ember-green in the touch of the sun. To come to a town after this was jarring(though so short a time spent in it yes) the metal structures and irritating signs, all I long for was to chase the sun to the southern lands and yet fate had something else in mind for us as it so often does. So here I am, an old lesson still to learn, patience and appreciation for all that is laid before me. I will be old and stooping into the grave when I at last learn these things it would seem but some light of it still has shone through the fog of my mind today. I hope also that you could share in some of my awe and joy at the sights and majesty of nature from what I can only feebly now reflect in writing. Till next time my dears, the restlessness of my mind is now quelled and so I sign off.
PDTL

Canada- worse then america

The name of our blog is inspired by the late Gandalf the grey. through his many travels across middle earth he was known by many names, but the one that struck us the most was "the grey pilgrim". That name has been adopted as the name of the van.  the trip so far has been littered with these sort of LOTR (lord of the rings) references. On our seemingly endless drive through what we now consider to be the worst country in the world, we have listened to countless hours of this epic tale. We just finished the second book and plan to blast through the third in the next day or two. Enough about that though. On the first day we went to tok and slept in a pullout about a mile past town. Thanks to macrina i have had about 5 energy drinks to fill my empty tummy. (thanks creen and nate, they were really good) We had cajun chicken and cajun beans for dinner and nutella saltines for dessert. The next day, june 2, we drove to Watson lake. Crossing the border was  a pain. We answered the questions as well as we could and in the most respectful way, but they sill found something suspicious about three young men, one with a  molestash and two with ponchos and long blond hair. They quickly asked us to pull to  the side and stay in the vehicle. Your typical 30 year old canadian came out and went throughout he van. We were mostly exited because he was getting  a grand tour of our masterpiece and we just expected him to congratulate us when he came to " debrief"  us on the search. instead he holds up a black can of mace and proceeds to ask us a string of rhetorical questions about what it was, how it got there and if we knew what this ment. He basically told us we had tried to bring a "weapon" into canada and  he now had the power to seize the van and force us to buy it back. ( this was the genasis of the hatred of canada) He ended up letting us go and we had to "abandon" the mace to the "crown."    Coming through  the  pass at about 11:30pm it began to dump snow and rain and the visibility was pretty bad.It was so bad at times it was better to turn the lights off and drive int he dark rather then be blinded by the snow. Even on day two our conversation topics have deteriorated and been reduced to various forms of the phrase,            " canada is gay." if the conversation dies and LOTR goes off, the silence void is quickly filled with something about how canada sucks so much. When we woke up this morning we found out  the Cassier hwy. was closed due to a wildfire. we took the alaska hwy. to Fort nelson. We enjoyed some tasty subway(7 dollar footlongs) and went back to  driving.  about 20 minuets on the road we got a flat. when we went to get the spare we discovered it was a doughnut and we needed to buy a proper tire. so we drove 40 miles an hour ( all forty were awkwardly silent) back into town and the only tire place closed at 6. So now im sitting in a parking lot where the Indian owner said we could stay for the night and come in and get coffee in the morning.  tomorrow be plan to get a new tire and push on through. Wish us luck,
ben d
hans i
peter l