Tag Archives: Yosemite

Borders

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There were so many borders. He crossed the Sierra’s and ran out of gas. Down the backside he coasted. Then hours later it was the state line. An ocean of desert to be crossed. More mountains and miles and miles of road. But those were borders.

The real border was the front door. The end of the drive way. The day he told her he was moving. The real border came weeks before as he accepted the job. The far away job. Or the day he applied, wanting to be far away from her. The borders were crossed in his heart. Many times, and many times he came back. Would he return to her love again?

The cat slept on his lap as he drove. The radio playing a Lucy Kaplansky song about the road. Clearly she had also done travel at night. Her magical voice was holding him tonight. The music was a hug. The cat slept peacefully at last in the car. But it wasn’t an easy start for her. She cried and cried and cried. Like he wanted to cry and cry and cry. Maybe they both missed her. And all these years later he wonders if Baby Girl misses her like he does, at night, alone.

But maybe no being could miss another in the same way.

Years before he lived in Yosemite. When not crossing the high mountain trails he wrote. So much sad poetry and prose. So many long and pointless hours of cutting his own wrist with a pen. Bleeding onto the page, onto the screen. Into the snow, cold and unwatched. But he crossed a border in the park. It was the place where he learned to let M go. He moved beyond. And beyond he remained until he returned from Wyoming. And then borders were crossed again. There was no on in his heart for him for so long. Now she had crossed into his love.

Nevada is a land of barren beauty. A place unique and magical in a sparse way. Maybe one day he’ll live in a hermit shack off a dirt road in Eureka. Not the left-leaning town on the California coast. The dusty town hanging to the side of a mountain in Nevada. He passed through the town on this trip. And later trips. But tonight it was just a moment on the road. How many moments on our roads we pass through blindly. But for someone else the moment is dear. The moment lasts in memory. The touch lingers like a kiss on wet lips.

How many borders did he cross driving in the night. And in the heat of the next day. His heart had for so long been barren like the desert. Empty, uncrossed by human love. At least this is how it felt to him at times. But she was there like a dream. A well in the middle of the vast plain. Driving he crossed state lines. He crossed county lines and city lines. And each line was a step further from the one he couldn’t cross away from tonight.

Even after the granite valley of Yosemite. The strange orange land of south Utah. Through the dark of night and the heat of day. In Utah the temperature drove the cat to seek a place to hide. And she didn’t mind being wet for once. Like he was learning the lessons of having a wet heart. But he could never find a place to hide. The heat was so strong between them at one moment. It burned like the sun on his alabaster heart. And now he was peeling. One of his borders was slipping away into dust around him.

Maybe it didn’t have to be this way. Maybe it couldn’t be any other way. A voice inside told him to turn back. Cross back to safety. The comfort of her heart. But the clear sad truth was this border couldn’t be crossed anymore. He could cross Nevada. And later even crossed it in a snow storm. But the storms and the cold winds of live were driving them now. And each on a different current. The land he drove across was once at the bottom of the sea. In a time which feels so far away now. But years from now, across other borders so will today. The feelings, the journey, the borders crossed. It will fade as a memory. But she will never fade.

Stockton

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When I left Yosemite I was down. It was a dark time for me. A lonely time. I felt broken. And like a small bird forced to fly before it was ready. But I took my broken wings and learned to fly. I’d like to say I learned to live so free. But I learned to live in fear.

I hated the way the job ended in Yosemite. And being pushed out with no net. In a way I have been running from this moment ever since. I have focused hard on always having a job. On working hard. I hate looking for work. And the idea of being out of work again scares me. There have been a couple times I have been unemployed since. And I’ve took the first thing I could find. Actually working at Walmart was not the first thing I could find. I worked at Labor Ready for months. Walmart was a calculated choice.

I remember while moving listening to news of the tsunami in Asia. In a way it helped me to see my life wasn’t so bad. I had packed all my things. I rented a van and drove it to Stockton. I had the van for the weekend and thought I would need to find a storage unit. But I didn’t.

I looked up ads. While in a gas station I asked if they were hiring. The woman told me to come back the next day. I called about an apartment. And I called on a second job. Then I applied for school. It was something you could do online.

On Sunday I interviewed for the job, and was hired. Then I got the second job as well. I recall talking to the woman about the apartment. She said it was impressive I was able to find work so fast, and enroll in school. I think it helped me to get the apartment. It was one of the best places I have lived. It wasn’t all too expensive either. Though I don’t recall the rent.

So much to cover and where to start. Well the apartment was a studio. But it had a decent sized kitchen and bathroom. The bedroom was a fair size, for me. I had much less then. It was in a small two-story complex. All the doors opened into a courtyard in the middle. Two locked gates controlled access to the courtyard.

One of the funnier things which happened at this apartment involved my rug. It was old and dirty and I kept it just outside my door. But this was inside the courtyard, behind the locked gates. One day I went outside and it was gone. There wasn’t really any place to look. And I was short on time. So I rushed on my way to class. While riding my bike to school though I saw a figure sleeping on a bench wrapped in my rug. I figured someone must be pretty desperate to sleep in a rolled up rug. On my way back from class I found it on the bench and took it home.

The community college in town was one of the best times of my life. When I had been in school before I failed. Well, I passed, but just barely. And I had never enjoyed school. Even during my time at Bethany it wasn’t a joy. But this time it was a joy. And I was doing great. The teachers were great. The students were great. And it was sad for me to have to leave when I graduated. I always felt like I wanted to complete my education at San Joaquin Delta Community College. But I couldn’t. I was there three semesters. The first was the best in many ways.

It was at Delta I had the first math class I really enjoyed. The teacher just explained it all in a way my mind understood. For the first time in my life I liked math. And he gave me advice I didn’t take and still regret. He told me the next class I should take was Calculus. But I was scared and took Statistics. A bad choice. Another teacher at the school I enjoyed taught Health. She also taught some other life classes. I took as many as I could from her. It wasn’t the subject. She was just a great teacher. The kind of teacher I would like to be someday.

My day always started early with class. I had to rush out the door. After class the first year I worked with a tax preparation company. My job was simple. Dress as Uncle Sam or the Statue of Liberty and dance around for a couple hours with a sign. I would listen to music and dance and wave the sign. It wasn’t a great job. But it was a job and the people running it were good people. I rode my bike, and at first didn’t lock it up. But towards the end of my time there it got stolen. I had to buy another bike. I had saved money from Yosemite, but it was a lot of money wasted.

The second bike was also stolen actually. I had it parked in front of my sister’s house. It was on the porch, away from the street. I don’t know you could even see it from the street. But it was stolen. I still think it was one of her ex-husband’s friend’s who stole the bike. Then I was riding an older bike I got from a friend. It lasted for a while, but wasn’t great. Once while rushing to work I managed to wreck it and flip over the handle bars.

I went home and tried to get ready for work. But my wrist started to hurt. Being a guy about the pain, I tried it ignore it. But it was throbbing worse and worse. Finally I called my sister and asked her to take my to the hospital. It felt like it was broken. At the hospital I couldn’t sign papers. I couldn’t do much. But my sister was helping me. “It makes me feel like a diva,” I told her.

My wrist was put in a wrap. Riding a bike was out of the question for a while. Then when I could ride I still didn’t. I was a bit scared. At some point my bike disappeared again. But I didn’t care.

The job at the tax company was a good job. It was part-time of course. The ride from home to school was 1.5 miles. From school to the first job was about three miles. From home to school was north, and from school to work was north. But between the jobs I turned around and went over five miles south. I worked at a gas station in Downtown Stockton.

The gas station job was paying me well enough. But the owner could be a real ass sometimes. There are so many stories I could tell. Once he was yelling at me and a co-worker about something. A man walked out with a fountain drink. “Did he pay for that,” the owner yelled. We looked at each other and both said, “yes.” Later I asked my co-worker if the man had bought the drink. He didn’t know and neither did I. But we agreed if we had admitted it, the owner would just yell more. The owner used to pump his gas for free. Now, I understand this could be illegal. But he may have adjusted the costs in the backroom in a way to make it legal. One day he was on his way to the bank. Pulling out of the driveway he ran out of gas.

Maybe the biggest episode was a guy who paid for his gas and forgot to pump it. He came back and the gas had been pumped. It was $20. I called the owner, who was upstairs. His first response was to make sure I didn’t tell them he was upstairs. Then said don’t give him anything. The man was upset and wanted to talk to the owner. But I told him he wasn’t available. This went on for some time and I called the owner again. He could hear everything. He knew the scene going on, and again he told me not to let the man know he was upstairs. Eventually the man left the store. After the man left me and my co-worker were talking about it and mentioned the owner was upstairs. Then when he walked out of the store I heard someone say, “he really was upstairs.” The whole thing bugged my not because he was right or wrong. But because he was such a coward. First of all I would have come down and dealt with the problem myself. But I also would have been inclined to give him the gas. It could have been a scam, but it didn’t feel like one. And sometimes you have to take a loss to keep up appearances.

The job was simple really. Turn pumps on and off from a board inside. We made coffee drinks, some iced drinks and some sandwiches. Then of course there was the cleaning. When I started I had to mop the whole store. It was a real chore to get it all done. And I never really got done on time. But I worked hard. Later he hired another man to do the cleaning.

But I did prove the owner wrong once. It was a drink we made. For some reason the size of the cup had changed. We had been shown to fill the cup to a line. But when the size changed this wasn’t the right amount. One day he came down and told me I was doing it wrong. So I measured out the amount I was supposed to add. He agreed it was the right amount. And I put it in the cup and I was right.

It was just a gas station job but it was stressful. We didn’t sell alcohol, which made me happy. People would come in, scan the coolers, look confused, and scan again. Then I’d just tell them, “we don’t sell alcohol.” The owner had a business before, and it made him sad to see people lining up to buy alcohol at 6 a.m. He could also be a good man.

The woman I talked to when I got hired was strange. She had a second job and didn’t need the money from the gas station job. So she never cashed her pay checks. She told me she was doing it to screw over the owner. I bet your confused to how this hurts the owner. But I was confused to how someone could be so petty and vindictive. When she left the job after several months she took all the checks and cashed them at once. This of course emptied the owners account.

I stayed at the gas station job until I left for university. After I left someone broke into the store. The owner watched the video obsessively and finally saw a way to catch the man. But in the end the owner went out of business and I hear he got a divorce. I never liked the man, but it still made me sad. He was trying his best like we all are, and he did give me a good paying job. When I was leaving he told me when I was a success I could look back on working at the gas station. He was a part of the success. I think it gave him some pride and he was right.

Most of the time I was in Stockton I was moving. In fact there weren’t many moments I had free. But after my first semester there was some time. During the summer I didn’t take classes, so there were more. The last day I was in Stockton was odd. School was done, and I had quit my job to move. I had nothing to do, no pressing obligations. And then I moved. The move itself turned into an adventure for another story.

Yosemite People

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I had friends in Yosemite. Which is a statement. Because in many places I have not had any. My roommate was one of the closest.

Not my first roommate. He was a quiet Asian guy. Not a bad person. But not someone I got along with as a friend. He owned a car and never drove it. Sure, you didn’t need a car in the park. I imagine if I had a car, I would drive rarely. But he didn’t even want to talk about the car. It sat for so long the battery was dead. I honestly do not recall his name. And I wouldn’t tell you if I did.

It was my second roommate. A guy from Michigan. I think when he first moved it things weren’t easy. And of course like roommates we didn’t always get along. Once I was listening to the TV and using the computer. He changed the channel and I made a comment. It wasn’t fair he suggested for me to be using both at the same time. Of course I paid for both, the internet, the computer, the TV and the satellite service. But he had a point. The TV show wasn’t even in English.

Some of the good times I recall were watching our shows. Every night we would watch four shows together. It was Ed, Edd and Eddie, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Powerpuff Girls and Dextor’s Laboratory. They were on together on the cartoon network.

Jordan is a person I am still friends with online. A creative person like myself. But in a different way. While living in the park I remember he made a coat of jean squares. Then he moved to another part of the park.

There wasn’t a roommate for a while afterwards. Which of course is the best roommate. I tried not to move into the space. Because I knew someone would be coming to fill it. One guy came and went so fast I recall nothing about him. Then there was a guy from South Africa. He sounded like a Brit. But was as racist as they come.

We got along, but we weren’t friends. One day I do remember we took a hike to Yosemite Falls together. I was always up for a hike.

In someways writing about people is getting harder. Because it isn’t so much people of the past. But some of them are people of the present. There were a number of women who earned my attention in the park.

But two were just friends. It was Judith and her friend and I who spent time together the most at first. Yeah, I don’t have a memory of her name either. One time I talked to her on the phone about a movie I wanted to see. It was Run Lola Run. “It is a foreign movie I told her.” And then she wasn’t interested. But when I talked to Judith, our friend had heard me say, “it is a porn movie.” Makes since she wouldn’t want to watch.

Judith was a good friend. Another person I went on a hike or two with in the park. She was good for me because she would drag new people in my life. Her job at the park was human resources. One of the first people many people meet. The perfect job for her. She was naturally friendly. I am not naturally friendly.

A lot of people came and went in the park. A core were there for most of the two years I lived and worked in the park. Most of them if I saw them today I would remember. If not by name then by face. But it has been years since I have gone back. Besides many of them left themselves over the years.

One of the first women I was attracted to was Michelle. A cute blonde who didn’t live far from me. It was probably through Judith we met. Also a friendly and out going person. But when I first met her I don’t think she was single. Later as I got to know her our relationship became good friends. It seemed clear to me she wouldn’t want to be more. I never really pushed the issue. And maybe I was wrong. But we were good friends.

One time she was having a bad day. I suggested she watch Dancer in the Dark. One of the saddest movies I’ve ever seen. When I watched in the in theater my girlfriend cried a lot. For me it helped when I was down because it was such a depressing story. There is some hope in the movie. Maybe it was easy for me to feel the sadness coming from a movie and release the emotion. Or maybe it just made me feel good in comparison. Whatever the case, it didn’t work for Michelle and she was upset.

Later I took an interest in a friend of hers. It was a brief episode in my life, but not one I feel good about today. We got to know each other over a short period. And once we made out in my room. But then she said those dreaded words. “Let’s just be friends.” I told her, no. The rejection was painful to me. And I didn’t feel like I knew her very well as a friend. And I didn’t get to know her any better.

Later some guys said they saw her with someone else. I must have shared liking her. I don’t recall much about how the joke was first told. I think I mentioned someone being named Lincoln – because everyone takes a shot at her. Well, then the guys would refer to her as Lincoln. It wasn’t a fair image of who she was, and I should have said something. But I didn’t. Sometimes it is easier to let things happen. And even people who aren’t bad allow bad things to continue.

There were a few other women. But nothing real during my time in the park. There was a deep part of myself still in love with M. Most of the writing during the time was focused on her. In fact it got to the point I felt like I had to quit writing. Every word felt like it echoed with the same lonely achy heart. And every word was tearing the wound open fresh. This began a period of years where I wrote very little.

I kept the journal I started in the park. And I still writing in it today. Since starting the writing process again I have tried to write more often. A number of the friends I had in the park were online friends. A chapter of its own, soon.

Two older guys became good friends. One of them had a few odd habits. I think his name was Walter. You would ask the simple, “how are you?” And Walt would say, “better now that I see you.” At first it was off-setting because people don’t normally talk in such a way. But he was an honest and good person. I worked with him at the tour desk. When mothers and daughters came he would wink and say, “let me guess, sisters?”

And he wasn’t hitting on them. Just being friendly. Maybe it was the shared male housing which caused the rumors. But one thing people would discuss sometimes was, “is he gay?” And these two guys I wondered about from time to time. It wasn’t important to me of course. People also thought I may be gay. No, just very unlucky in love.

This older friend of mine would often tell this joke about gay mice. The punch line was, “how do they know they are gay?” A joke I’d heard a couple times before I had a retort. They say things like, “better now that I see you,” I quipped. He laughed.

Roommate stories were also common. Walt told one about his roommate. Walt had used salt to thaw ice on the porch. “I’ll tell the ranger,” his roommate nagged. And yes, his roommate was right. We weren’t supposed to use salt. But it was a tiny space. I think it was a way of releasing tension. We all lived pretty close to people we didn’t know well. Of course his roommate was also an odd fellow. In his 30s and never learned how to drive. Sure, I hadn’t had a car since high school. But even I had a driver’s licence. But this guy had grown up in Boston.

One of the people I liked least in the park was Randy. Yeah, I recall his name for a couple reasons. One he was the player of the park. Always the first to be dating one of the temporary workers from another country. Made me think of how they use the word randy in England. But he was also a person who skirted the rules. Because he thought he was special. In the parking lot was a spot were a car fit, it didn’t block traffic. But it did make things tight. And it wasn’t a marked spot. But he parked in at all the time. Because he was too lazy to park and walk like everyone else.

I should state before long he was a part of the reason I left the park. It was something I had planned. But not the way it happened. I had just started working for the day. There was a new truck with an enclosed bed, and a better radio. When I got on I over the walkie-talkie to see if he needed help. The answer was no, he would be right done soon. So I waited. I asked the manager about if I should go, he said wait. But when Randy came in, he just left. Then he came back and wouldn’t turn over the keys so I could use the truck for my job. I got upset, and hit a door with a window. The window broke and I cut my hand. They fired me.

Today I am more bothered by upset I got over the issue. Though I still think Randy was being a prick. I needed the truck more to do the job I needed to get done. And he just wanted the truck with the better radio. Well, to be honest the job had broken me down. I tried every day to get it right. And I felt more and more like a failure every day. This is part of the reason I still hate unions. In this job it did nothing to help me and almost everything to hurt me.

A couple days a week I had to cover another guy’s days off. He didn’t seem to care about doing a good job. So when I came to cover his days off I always started far behind. I’d be running like mad to catch up. And the way the union worked, he got prime job choices because he had been there longer. And when I broke the window. They had to fire me, because they had to be consistent. I of course blame only myself for the poor choice to hit the door.

The manager I had there was a good guy. One of those good guys which can be bad managers. Because they never crack down on people. I remember a number of times telling him I didn’t think I could do it anymore. He was supportive, and I kept trying. Now it seems like I would have been better off if I had quit sooner. Quit in terms of trying to get transferred to another park job.

But like I said, it was time for me to go. And the moment was perfect for me when I did leave. I am just sad such a great job and fun time in my life ended on a sour note. And it also bugs me it had to be the one person in the park I didn’t like who pushed my buttons.

I loved all my managers at the park. One was a cute little brown haired woman working in the lodge. Her name was Lisa. Once some co-workers were chatting about a Lisa and how hot she was, and I agreed. They looked at me, “you don’t know Lisa.” Then they figured out who I was talking about, oopps. But I didn’t care too much. Another woman there was Darlene. She was someone I respected a lot. And someone who clearly respected me. Darlene was the one who told me, “you can teach someone who has a good work ethic anything, but you can’t teach someone to have a work ethic.” She was leaving the park at the same time I was, and tried to help me keep my job.

The big boss at the lodge was Bridgette. Not big in any way except position and personality. A little red haired woman who reminded me of Madeline. We got along great, until the end. But I don’t blame her, I don’t think it was easy for her to let me go.

And when I did go, it was good for me. On Friday I left the park broken and hurt and confused. On Monday I started a new life, with two jobs, a place to live and enrolled in college. This was where I wanted to be. And two years in Yosemite had been important to making it happen for me.

Yosemite Hikes

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I did a lot of hiking in Yosemite. Short hikes and long hikes. One of the short hikes was to the top of Yosemite Falls. Long hikes were to Cloud’s Rest and Merced Lake.

There was a pattern to many of my hikes. I would start from my room. Or sometimes after a meal. Thinking to myself, just a short hike. Then I would get started and not want to stop. At some point I would see I was almost to a certain point. Then figure, why not.

When I planned to hike to Basket Dome for example. I left and went up the long switch-back trail to the top. There were still patches of snow. But I made it to the dome. Sitting there it was amazing. On my way back I saw a sign for El Capitan. Well, I already hiked the hard part. Getting over there wouldn’t be hard. So I hiked over to El Capitan.

Standing at the top of El Capitan was hard to describe. There isn’t a sharp edge. But there is a point where you can look down into the valley. This is more than 3,000 feet. I felt like I was flying. The breeze was soft, and I wondered about climbers coming up the side. I wanted to get closer and closer. But feared slipping off the face.

On the way back though it got dark. By the time I was on the switch-backs to the valley floor I was hiking by moonlight. No one noticed much when I wasn’t around.

The hike to Merced Lake was a planned hike. I got up and left early. It wasn’t a set goal, but a soft goal. Which means I didn’t know if I would make it to the lake and back. But I did. One thing I loved about hiking in the back country was drinking from small streams. I’d never drink from the Merced River. But small cold streams close to their source aren’t hard to find. The water just has a different taste to me.

The day I hiked to Merced Lake was a long day. And I got a rash. For days afterward it nearly drove me crazy. In fact there was a day I almost went to the clinic. I thought it would itch and itch forever. But it stopped after a couple days.

The fastest hike I ever did was half-dome. Most people take their time. Along the path stopping at the two waterfalls. Taking pictures at various points. Resting and eating and enjoying the views. And on most of my trips I did the same thing. But one day I decided to see how fast I could hike it. I took almost nothing so as to be quick. And I hit the trail early and hard. In about two hours I was at the base.

It was early in the day still, and I had energy to burn. So I pointed my hiking feet towards Cloud’s Rest. The sun was just setting when I arrived. Wanting to make it back before it got too dark I turned and burned. But most of the trail back was in the dark.

In my time in the park I hiked almost every trail out of the valley. Including a closed trail. At times I would be alone out in the wilderness. The fact if I got hurt no one would know where I was, how to find me, would sink in for a moment. I’d be stuck like Aron Ralston. One hike which was scary was to Mount Star King. Sounds like something out of Super Mario. My goal was the top. But I didn’t see a safe way to hike it. A climbing friend had told me you could hike to the top. I made an attempt but it was bare rock. I tried some basic climbing but I didn’t have the skills or the tools.

I didn’t always hike alone. Some of the best hikes were with my friend Sheree. We hiked Half Dome in the moonlight. And we hiked a closed trail to Glacier Point. One of the most adventurous was Mount Conness.

When we hiked Half Dome I had worked all day. I went home and took a short nap. It was the Harvest Moon. One of the last chances to hike Half Dome under the full-moon light. The granite of the valley glows in the moonlight. The moon wasn’t up when we left. But when we arrived on the top it was bright. We stood looking at the valley. The High Sierra bathed in the moonlight. It was just the two of us on top of the dome. We talked about the people in the cities far away. You could see the lights from Fresno or Merced.

Then the moon started to go down. We left and headed down the trail. It was dark going through the wooded sections. But I found the trail using my feet. You can tell when you are on the trail by the feel of the ground. Towards morning I started to get tired. At one point I fell asleep while hiking. I woke up touching the mud of a wall next to the trail. But we made it back just in time for work.

Yes, after hiking all night I worked all day without sleep. It was a long day and I didn’t get things done fast. Before starting work I had talked to my manager about calling in or not. He asked me to work.

The next two hikes with Sheree could have ended badly. The shorter of the two was a closed trail to Glacier Point. I’m not going to tell you how to find the trail. But anyone who has looked at Glacier Point can see much of the route. It was closed due to rock falls and it being dangerous. The trail climbs across the face of the point. This is the part I thought would be scary. But it wasn’t bad. After this you enter a ravine and a steep climb to the top.

It was here we had trouble. Going up the creek I was in front. A large boulder was blocking our path. No, there wasn’t a path. But we had to move around the rock. It looked loose to me so I advised Sheree not to touch the rock. And I was just getting around it when it slid. About the size of a small desk, it could have hurt her. But Sheree jumped out of the way. From there we made it to the top and hiked down the Four Mile Trail.

Going to Mount Conness was Sheree’s idea. It is on the east border of the park. While driving to the trail head I heard Jack Johnson for the first time. Things started out good. We knew where we were headed and making good progress. But near a small lake we lost the path. At this elevation, around 13,000 feet, you are hiking over boulders and rocks.

We could still see the peak. Somehow we had gone up the wrong side of a ridge. Now we had to climb over and down the ridge. The mountain was too steep going forward. Going down the otherside was also steep. At one point we couldn’t see any easy way down. We found a point and thought about jumping. Or looking for another route. In the end we decided I would brace myself and lower her down. Then she could help me down.

She lowered herself and jumped down. She landed and rolled over. She was fine, but now I could see just how far the fall was and it scared me. It was too far for her to assist me. Time to find another route.

From there we started to hike back up the mountain. I thought there was a good path and started to take it. She went another direction. Soon the path I was on got steep. And then I was climbing up cracks. Not real climbing, but a bit more than hiking. There were a few points along the climb I cut myself off for going back. Rocks were loose as I climbed up on them, and they slid. Meaning they wouldn’t be there to use if I tried to climb down. It was scary and I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t fall like the rocks. Sheree couldn’t see me and later told me she was scared. But at the top we found each other. But it was late and time to start back.

Going down we actually found the trail with little problem. Back on the trail we made our way to the car.

There are so many grand moments I will never forget in Yosemite. Things I will miss forever about working in the park. It was a place so big in so many ways. But also so small in so many ways. There was only a small staff of people year around. It was a tiny village. And it was 30 minutes to the nearest town. I had no car at the time. But the housing was also small. There are times it is tempting for me to return to the valley. And maybe someday I will.

Yosemite

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I love living in Yosemite. It was a place I could have lived forever. If I could have been happy with less.
The first night there I stayed in a dorm by the Ahwahnee hotel. A grand building with a long history. My mother spent the night in a nearby room. In the morning we had breakfast. New places are always fresh. But also uncertain. This one reminded me of my first days at college. But I was ready. The land around me was amazing and I wanted to explore. My job was the worst. Well, not at first.

The first day at my job I don’t recall. But I was the pot washer. And sometimes I also washed the dishes. There was a long dish machine. You put the dishes in and they came out clean. Only a few dishes needed more attention.

There was an older black man who was also a dish washer. We became friends. At the end of the night we had to spray the floor with water. And the use a squeegee to dry. I’m not sure why, but we all bought our own valve for the hose. Sometimes I would borrow his.

I hated the job. It was all the things I hate. It was too much. Piles and piles of pots and pans every night. They wanted them clean and fast. It was wet. I worked with two or three sinks and a sprayer to get the pots and pans clean. It was dirty. The food and grease never came off for days at a time. And it was worst of all maybe, loud. The pot room had its own machine and it made a lot of noise. It was worse because of the size of the room.

It was always a scramble for me. Maybe because I was not good at the job. Scrub, wash and rinse. Then put the pots and pans in the machine. Run the machine. Scrub, wash and rinse. Then take the pots and pans out and place them on the shelf. It took a lot out of me and I hated almost every day. The days I got to work the dish machine were the best.

Over time like other jobs I learned other positions. First was the dish machine. Then serving hot food to the customers. It was cafeteria style dining. And eventually I became a cashier as well, and worked in the coffee corner. This was all in my first job in the park.

Another person I became friends there was a manager. His name was Joe. At one point he gave me a phone number. Told me he had a boat in L.A. and I could stay on it anytime I needed. I took the number and lost it. It was funny because I knew I would lose the number. And I thought even if I didn’t what are the chances it would work out.

It was while working in the pot room still I spotted Lisa. She was one of the managers there, but she was cute. It was my secret for a long time.

When not at work I spent my time in my room. After the first night I moved to a small cabin. And I had the coolest roommate, Jordan. The room was 11′ by 11′ if I remember right. And we each had our side of the room. There was one door and a window on each side. My side was crowded with my things. There was much less than now, but still a lot of stuff. His side at first was meager. Over time he brought more into the room.

The computer and the TV were mine. This was the first time in my life I had consistent access to the internet. For a short time living with my mother I had access, but it was poor quality. A free dial-up service. But this was high-speed internet. And I got DISH TV. Though the climate in the valley caused untold number of problems with the service.

I don’t think I ever did anything outside the room with Jordan. But we would watch cartoons together. He used my computer and TV with my permission. Like all roommates we didn’t get along all the time. But more often than not. Like me, he is a very creative person. An individual who doesn’t fit into any one box.

I also started hiking in my time off. When I lived in Silver Lake I got into the habit of hiking in sandals. In Yosemite this became even worse. Image you leave to for food. But on the way you change your mind and think of taking a short hike. Starting down the trail you never plan to go far, but then you keep going and going. It happened to me a couple times. I hiked all the major trails in the valley. And a few which weren’t on the map.

This is what I loved the most about Yosemite. Being able to step out the door and take a hike. There was a free bus service in the valley. Most people did not have cars, or did not drive. I walked to work on most days to be out in the air. The bus only ran during the day, but a van would do pick-ups and drop-offs after hours. Yosemite is the perfect place for some people to live.

You get paid a decent wage. It is a union job, which some like and some do not like. You can buy the meal plan, they take a small amount out of your check every week and you eat at the cafeteria. The food is cafeteria food. Rent is taken out of your check, a small amount. Mine was $16 every two weeks. And then the rest is yours. You can choose to buy phone service and TV like me. But if you didn’t you would have no bills. You could spend all your money, and not worry about anything except showing up to work to keep your job. A lot of young people and temporary workers from other countries worked in the park.

After a couple months working in the dish room I knew I had enough. After almost getting fired for taking some bread it was time for a change. The next job I worked was at the tour desk. There was a tram which did a tour of the valley floor. It was our basic tour. Then a couple other tours were available by bus.

My job was simple. Make reservations and sell tickets. Then when the tram came go out and collect the tickets. It was on one of these tours I met Leonard Cohen. I had spied his name on a co-worker’s screen. Then I saw him, I thought it was him. At the time I just didn’t know for sure. And my mind couldn’t come up with the right words. He was there with other people. I took his ticket and he left on the tour. But I wish I had said, “thanks for inspiring me.”

This job only lasted for the summer. Due to the fact the tour desk closed for most of the year. People are keen to tour in the rain and snow. After this job I went back to the cafeteria. I’m not sure what my job title was going back. I know I cashiered and worked in the coffee corner and served food. But I wasn’t a pot washer, or dish washer. I may have helped out from time to time.

Eventually I got the job hosting at the fine restaurant in the lodge. It was an easy job. Take reservations and seat people as they came to eat. The wait staff had areas and our job was to seat people evenly throughout those areas. But they would never be happy enough. Once doing this job a guy gave me $20 to bump him to the top of the line. But there really wasn’t a long wait. For kids we had crayons and a coloring picture. Part of my job was to wrap those crayons, when itw as slow. But it got busy at times and then the manager would come and help.

It was a good job, and I liked the hours. But when the cashier job at the restaurant opened I changed jobs again. Working as the cashier I was right next to the service bar. And I learned a little about keeping bar and serving drinks. One night when they were short I did both jobs. But probably not very well. But being a cashier is stressful for me because I always want to be perfect. And I was most of the time. The other stress was time. It was a six hour shift, but if I went over I would get in trouble. Because the law said I couldn’t work more than six hours without a lunch. I never wanted the lunch because I would then have to be at work six and a half hours.

When a manager job came open I applied. But I didn’t get the job. Feeling a little stuck and ready for change I requested a new job. The next job I worked was with housekeeping. No, I didn’t have to clean rooms. But a quick story about the restaurant. After switching to cashier I had continued to wrap crayons when I was not doing anything else. Also since they got busy before I did, I would help them seat people. A short time before I was moved from the job the manager asked me to stop wrapping the crayons. She explained the host staff wasn’t doing it anymore and needed to start. Then a couple days later they asked me to stop helping with seating. This was the managers job (not the position I applied for) and he wasn’t doing it anymore. It was kind of funny.

In housekeeping I had the second worst job in the park. My job was two-fold. First was to stock all the closets for the housekeepers. And second was to go around and pick up the dirty linen. It sounds harmless enough but I never was able to catch up. And a big part of the problem was the main person doing the job was a slacker. When I came back I always had to make up for work he did not do. This job drove me crazy because it was so hard for me. I tried as hard as I could and had a complete breakdown.

In the end I broke a window and got fired. I went home and bought some alcohol and sleeping pills. It was one of the lowest points in my life. But things work out for the best even in the darkest of moments. I didn’t take the sleeping pills, even though it was a thought in my mind for days.

I packed up my things. I moved to Stockton. I started college again. And I found a place to live and two jobs over the weekend. My life was going in a new direction. While living in Yosemite I had saved a fair amount of money and was able to afford some nice things.

Over the years I have thought many times about going back to Yosemite. And there are a few more chapters coming about my time in the park. But in the end I don’t want to share a box with a roommate. The bathroom and the kitchen were both separate at the time. Though there are new dorms now. If I went back I would have to be a manager because I don’t want to work for the union. And I would want more money than I was making at the time. It just didn’t and doesn’t feel like a place to live. There is a limited potential for growth. While I was there I loved it more than anything. And I saved money. But like when I lived on the streets: a time came for change.

Dante

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Dante came into my life when I lived in Portland. It was the first time I lived there. I used his name on a dateline. A phone number you called to meet singles. I didn’t think much about it. And I only met two people.

One of them however became friends with a friend of mine. She shared the name with him. And he started using it. I didn’t have much of a relationship with Dante. For years it stayed this way.

When we traveled across the county. I used the name Dante all the way across. Meeting the women in Upstate New York, I was Dante. It was there I got the addition of Prince.

We had planned to go to a festival. Before hand I hand been singing a song. One of the lines way about going to the festival, “and dancing with the prince.” When the time came I went with the girls. And my friend stayed to watch a movie. Dancing at the festival, they figured I must be the prince.

Over time I started to get to know him better. And when I worked at Silver Lake I borrowed his identity again. At the camp everyone called me Dante. It was fun to think of myself as Dante. And not Chris.

I think there has always been a dark draw to Dante. Something about him made me come closer. His name invoked the story of Dante’s journey through hell. And later through heaven. I remember a quote about having to go through hell. And then you find your treasure. It is about struggle. About going deep. But also understanding our wounds. Loving our shadow.

I don’t believe in sin. And it has been years since I have believed. We don’t sin against God. But we fail ourselves. The only crime is failing to love ourselves. And the punishment is not being loved by ourselves. We hold the key to our own chains.

Dante was a recluse. A lover of knowledge and poetry. Not a person happy at parties. Unless he could hide in the corner. There was a very secret part of him. A part which wanted to be invisible. Just to watch the world. And not be a part. But he loved getting to know people one on one. Hearing about their lives and stories.

In Yosemite I got to know Dante better. But at the same time Dante hid away deeper. It wasn’t a name I spoke often. When doing art of writing, I spent time with Dante. But it was always alone. No one else in Yosemite knew Dante. I was growing. And Dante was growing. We spent a lot of time together hiking.

He was still creative. Still a dreamer. It was his dreams which helped me fall in love with the girls in New York. Laura whom I lived with for a few months. And Shaylyn whom I saw rarely.

In Yosemite I decided I wanted to be a writer. And I choose to go into the news business. I do like news. But it was for the writing. One of the first stories I recall being acutely aware of was Scott Peterson. On my blog I gave a lot of space to Dante. But when I left, I almost left him behind. Which is sad because he was part of the reason I want to be a writer.

Working and going to school in Stockton took a heavy toll. I didn’t have time for friends. And I didn’t have time for Dante. There were a few paintings. And a couple times I took photo walks. But Dante wasn’t a part of my life. He would become less a part of my life for the next few years.

It isn’t because I didn’t value his energy. Or because I wasn’t pulled to be alone. But because I ignored those things. And I ignored his needs. Dante is a loyal friend, like Lilith. But things were strained with both of them during this time. All I had time for was me. Run to work, to school, to sleep, to work, to school. Run all the time. Well I had a bike.

Dante may be loyal. But has wanted to die a number of times. Alone, but not alone.

The one exception to all this is my roommate in Arcata. When I met her online I used Dante’s name. And she still calls me Dante to this day. There was a part of herself which touched him. And it would appear a part of him touched her. Could they not be alone anymore. But she wasn’t making time for Dante either. And I pushed him away after moving to a new place. He didn’t feel like a friend. He felt more like a shadow.

My first online identity was TheSanePoet. A name I still use online often. But when I first got Facebook I used the name Dante. It was a way to be honest. But to lie at the same time. Dante wanted people to know him. But also wanted people to know nothing.

His desire was different than Lilith. Less about fear. More about presenting the perfect image. A perfectionist artist. I would be his work of art. There was only one way to turn me into this work of art: control everything. I could share anything I wanted. But the way I shared was important to Dante.

While living in Portland the second time I used the name rarely. M didn’t like it. Because I did love Dante so much. And because I loved M so much it isn’t a surprise they have the same middle name: Rose.

A rose is about a passion. Maybe a passion for life. Or for a person. Or truth or love or the passion for words. These ideas were becoming more important to me. It was while living in Portland this time I started my real art career. I’ve created little over the years. Most of what of it in those years. Dante inspired me as an artist. There was a world of feeling he could touch. But I could not.

I know this is all over the place. But this is the nature of Dante. He isn’t like me. I’m going back even further for the next part of this tale.

Living in Santa Cruz I met an amazing woman. At the beach one day she told me I was a Pleiadian. This is an alien race. But I think she was wrong. What she was seeing was behavior I had learned from Dante. He was the being from another world. A number of years later I started to pin Pleiades to his name to make this point. A point he was aware of, but didn’t discuss. A point he seemed not to care enough about to argue for or against.

If other people know Dante, they may use a different name. But as of now I refer to him as Prince Dante Rose Pleiades. And I still use his name online. He doesn’t like Facebook.

It is interesting Dante is more passive than Lilith. But as friends I know they both look out for me. Dante shares dark secrets with Lilith. Things they will not even share with me.

But Dante is more optimistic. When I first was getting to know him, he wore a skirt. These were the good years. We were good friends. He believed in the world. Thought life could and should be better for all. He pushed me to get out much more than I do now. Maybe because getting out is my own hell. One he knew I needed to experience.

I believe he still wants to wear a skirt. And if I allowed him, he would.

Now me and Dante are getting to know each other again. Like lovers parted for long years. I am writing again, which is creative. This makes Dante happy. My dream of being an artist is being re-awakened. Dante is a part of this dream. I can’t write or be an artist without his help. But still no one else knows him. It is only online I share anything about him. And I don’t allow many people from real life to know me online.

We are growing together in the last couple years. And it has been good for both of us.

Silver Lake California

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Small things can cause big changes. Getting one summer job did this for me. It was a turning point. Coming back to Stockton finding work was hard. But I found a great job.

The job was at a summer camp in the Sierra Nevadas. It was at 7000 feet. It was amazing. The camp was run by the city of Stockton. It was a great job. I got paid weekly, and had no rent or food bills to pay. I was able to save money.

My job at the camp was working the front desk. But like many other jobs I took on other tasks. It didn’t take long before I was working in the kitchen. And I found helping out at the campfires to be fun. It was someone else’s job but I took it over.

The camp was near Silver Lake. A high country area with lots of good hiking. When not working I spent a lot of time exploring the area. First was Thunder Mountain. The elevation of which is almost 10,000 feet.

Another mountain I hiked was Round Top. An elevation over 10,000 feet. The area has an interesting history related to emigration. Mormons crossed the mountains in wagons going west.

While at camp I discovered and read Ayn Rand. It was Atlas Shrugged. It changed my thoughts a great deal. I recall someone telling me, it is a great book, but it isn’t practical.

I was at the camp for two years. I don’t recall many of the things and what year they occurred. What I remember is in my first year taking a long hike.

Some others left for a short hike. I went along later and passed them on the path. We all stopped at an overlook. They went back and I pushed to go further. Going along the path I found a lake. From the lake I went off the trail a little. I then re-found the path and went onward. I made it to a second lake as it was getting dark. Things were going well.

On the way back it got dark. Normally I can keep a trail even in the dark. I have done it for years. From camping in the woods to being at gatherings. But when I got back to the first lake I couldn’t find the trail. I wondered around for a while. Thought about the fact there could be dangerous animals around. Figured they weren’t because of the population. But made plenty of noise to scare them away.

I also thought about the fact people would notice I was gone. And someone did notice. At some point I just sat down in one place so I wouldn’t fall and hurt myself. The moon was up and it was cold. But it wasn’t dark and it wasn’t freezing.

When the morning came I found the path. I wasn’t too far from it, but it was narrow. Back on the path I headed back to the camp. It was early still. On the trail I saw some people with a dog. They asked who I was, and said they were looking for me. We walked back to the camp, and had some hot chocolate.

The people at the camp were worried about me. But my friends when I told them said, “that sounds fun.” Of course I was telling them of the event afterwards. And the people at the camp were dealing with it as it happened. I took a moment to apologize to everyone for the scare. And to acknowledge I had made a mistake in going forward.

Looking back I know there were things which upset me. But at this point it seems petty. Bringing all those issues up now seems silly. I feel silly to have been upset. I have tried through my life to become unmoved from my center. Allowing fewer and fewer things to disturb me. And I think I have been successful.

My father came and had a great visit. It was great to see him. It has been a couple years since we spent time together.

After the first year I went to visit a friend in New York City. I recall getting to the city just a month after 9/11. One month earlier at the camp, the night before 9/11 I was sure I wanted to die. If I had real sleeping pills instead of melatonin I might have killed myself.

The day of 9/11 was surreal. I woke up and walked by the office. Something made me pause and listen to the radio. Maybe it was the simple fact the radio wasn’t normally played. It didn’t take long to figure out what was going on, this was before the towers fell.

There were two things going through my head. One was a bit of surprise. Someone had finally done it, attacked America. I’m not saying our country deserved the attack. But in a world with so many foes. At some point someone was going to at least try such an attack. In the aftermath so many said, “we never thought this would happen.” And I had wondered about such an attack taking place.

The other thought was a bit of fear. I said to myself: “people I know will go to jail for this.” I didn’t know terrorists. Well, not on the world stage. There were people I knew who stood at the fringe. And our country has a history. It often reacts with fear. And cracks down on the fringe. There was no TV at the camp. The closest was down the road. So I walked down to watch the TV. Some have condemned the TV networks for showing the towers falling over and over. But I watched it over and over. And it just didn’t seem real. I wanted to see it again. A part of my brain didn’t understand. Show it again, it kept saying.

After the first year I planned to come back. During the second year I met a friendly couple. They worked at the camp. They were retired. We were friendly. It was them who told me about Yosemite. They told me how to apply online and I did it when I got home. I think I had known about the website before, but never used it to find a job. Even now I forget about coolworks.com at times.

During my second year I understood the camp’s culture better. There were a number of people who had been going there for years. They knew each other. It was a family tradition. Something I know little about because I hardly had a family. And we had no traditions.

Working at the camp was a settled period in my life. The fact it led me to work in Yosemite changed my life. I was on a different track. And had different ideas after reading Ayn Rand.

My Story as told by Lilith

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This isn’t me. Or rather it isn’t who you think. I’m Lilith. The unseen twin of our author.
Growing up we used to spend a lot of time together. It was him and I. On long walks we got to know each other. No one else ever knew me. No one at all. The rest of the family didn’t understand.

Going to school was hard. It tore us apart. He was often mocked by other kids. And it hurt me to see. All I wanted was to get back at those kids. But I couldn’t. And he wouldn’t. So I had to watch. Knowing it hurt him, made it worse. Did anyone pay attention to him like me.

In the sixth grade he was dying for attention. I saw him do things he shouldn’t have for others. I wanted to stop him. Tell him to love himself. But I didn’t love myself. I did love him. And I felt like he loved me. We always would have each other. And I always stayed with him.

In high school we would eat together. Just the two of us. His other sister has her own friends. So we had each other. And it was all we needed.

And I went to college with him. At first it was like he didn’t need me anymore. Though we were always together. But then we got closer and closer. I know the tart Harmony broke his heart. And I know it was his fault. And yes it still hurt to watch. I wish I could have told him it was coming. But would he have listened. He listens to me more now.

On the streets we kept each other warm. Closer than ever. When M came around, I was still there. She was someone who was good for him. And I loved her as much as he loved her. She made him happy. And this made me happy. We weren’t as close. But I preferred it to his being so sad all the time. Sad and alone.

But M also broke his heart. And mine to be honest. I trusted her with my best friend. He took it hard. It was hard to comfort him. Over time he healed. He met Heather, and I never trusted her. But, she made his life a little better. Until she didn’t.

We had moved to Portland. He had a job he enjoyed. And was making a decent enough income to support us. His first place was a dump. I hate dogs, so I hated the house. Dogs in and out and messing on the floor. In the next house his roommate was crazy. I liked him, but never trusted him. Soon we moved again. Then we traveled.

Rainbow Gatherings are my favorite. And the one in Pennsylvania was grand. We played. We read. We ate and slept. It was an adventure. An adventure which lead to another adventure. Meeting Laura, Pam and Shaylyn. Then a couple months later moving in with Shaylyn and Pam in Upstate New York. There was something I liked about Ogdensburg.

Problems caused us to move again. And again. Then to live alone. It was just him and I again. We still had each other. We would always have each other. He had some friends for a while. But they drifted away and we spent our time together.

We moved back to California. Went to another great gathering. And fell in love with Boulder. I think I loved it even more then he. It was my idea to name the kissing bridge. Maybe someday we can kiss someone on the bridge. He started talking to M again. And fell in love again.

His plans were to move back to Portland. There was another girl he liked and was moving with to Portland. But they didn’t work out and he fell for M hard. Even harder than last time. I accepted her. But I couldn’t love her again. And I couldn’t trust her again. They broke up. She told him on the answering machine she was pregnant. And I feared for him. There was no baby in the end. He never shared much about his feelings.

We moved back to California. Went to a gathering. Found a great job working in the High Sierras. I loved it up there in those mountains. And I could live up there forever. If only he would allow us to leave the city. The next stop was Yosemite. Which I also loved, but not as much. He was happy in Yosemite too. But then he felt like it was too small. After saving money he got us out of there, to Stockton. I hated Stockton.

And I never saw him. Work, work and school. All the time. No time for himself and no time for me.

Things slowed down when he moved to Arcata. I loved hiking in the forest. And he enjoyed it too. The college wasn’t hard for him. Working still took a lot of time. The first year it was a job he loved. Until they fired him. And he hasn’t ever loved a job in the same way since. Well, until Walmart. The next job he worked was at CVS.

Then we moved away to Wyoming. What an amazing place to live. Snow and cold. Mountains and open plains. Take me home to Wyoming. This is where I would choose for us to live. But the job let him go. We wondered around for a while. Not lost, but seeking. And landed back in Arcata.

There he fell again. He doesn’t fall often. But when he does it is hard. I liked this girl. And I thought we could be friends. But it isn’t as easy for me as it is for him. And it really isn’t easy for him. They were close. Seemed like there was so much they had in common. And I started to believe she loved and cared about him. Maybe I could lose him to her, but then she tore his heart in two. This was a dark moment for him.

But we still had each other. We still held on to each other. In those days he hung on to me closer than ever. We only had each other. His friends didn’t really know his feelings like me.

We moved to Colorado. And Nebraska. Then Texas. Those states were hard for both of us. We were both alone. And only had each other. It was worse than high school.

But now we live in Vancouver. He has a job he loves. Working at Walmart. The sad part is the pay is not enough. I want him to do better for himself. I encourage him to seek another job. And he does, but you can tell his heart isn’t in finding something new. He wants to get promoted. But I don’t trust his managers to see him for the asset his is to them.

We shall see.

Timeline of events

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I graduated from high school in the summer of 1994. My first year of college was fall of 1994. And spring of 1995.

I spent the summer of 1995 at college, living in the dorms. I worked at Subway.

My second year of college was from fall of 1995 to the summer of 1996. It was at the start of 1996 I became vegetarian. And I started my period on the streets in the summer of 1996.

For most of 1996 I was in Santa Cruz. But I spent time in San Francisco. In the winter months early in 1997 I met Amy. And I lived with her for a couple months. Until I met M.

Over the summer of 1997 M and I traveled. We went to my first Rainbow Gathering. Then we visited her father in Seattle. Afterwards we hitch-hiked our way across the country to Cambridge, Massachusetts. And we hitch-hiked back.

It was the winter of 1997 I went to visit M for Thanksgiving. We made plans for me to move and live together.

In the spring of 1998 I moved to Portland. Plans with M didn’t work out. After a few wet months I rented a room in a house. The first time I paid rent in my life, if you don’t count the college.

I lived in Portland until the spring of 1999. In the summer I went traveling with a friend across the country. We went to my second Rainbow Gathering.

After coming home to Portland, I moved to upstate New York. This is where I was for New Years 2000. But in the spring of 2000 I went back to California, and then to my third gathering. This one was in Montana.

After the gathering I went to Colorado. And then back to California. I moved to Portland again in the fall of 2000. I was in Portland for the election of George W. Bush. But I moved again early spring.

Once again plans were made with M. But once again things changed. So I moved back to California. I spent a month at Mother’s. But I got a job at a camp in the Sierra’s for the summer. It was 2001. And in the fall I went to New York City. Yeah, just one month after 9/11.

It was because a friend invited me to visit. After three months, she said no one ever visited for three months before. And I started back to California. It was 2002. Along the way I visited Alabama where a friend lived.

In the spring of 2002 I lived with Mother, and my sister for a short period. After a short trip to Portland to visit friends, I went traveling again. And I went to my fourth Rainbow Gathering. Before making a visit to Boulder. Then returning to California.

Back in California again. I worked at the summer camp. There I met someone who told me about Yosemite. After the summer I moved to Yosemite.

Yosemite was my home from winter of 2002, to early in 2005. A little over two years. Then I moved to Stockton. And I went back to school. After a year and six months I moved to Humboldt, and Humboldt State. The summer of 2006.

I lived in Arcata from the summer of 2006, until early 2009. Then I moved to Wyoming for my first real reporter job. And I lost my first real reporter job and moved back to Arcata.

This time I lived in Arcata from late spring 2009, until fall of 2010. When I moved to Colorado. After six months in the mountains I moved to Nebraska.

I arrived in Nebraska in January of 2011. And I moved away from Nebraska in the summer of 2012. Texas was the next place I lived.

And I lived in Texas from the summer of 2012, until the summer of 2013. For the last two years I have lived in Vancouver, Washington.

New Years Day Location:
1990-1994 Coarsegold
1994-1996 Scotts Valley
1997 Santa Cruz
1998 Santa Cruz
1999 Portland
2000 Glens Falls, New York
2001 Portland
2002 New York City
2003-2005 Yosemite
2006-2010 Arcata
2011-2102 North Platte, Nebraka
2013 Lubock, Texas
2014- Vancouver, Washington.

Okay, shows over time to go home. No, I just wanted to lay out the timeline for a confusing lifeline. It took me a good deal of thought to get it straight in my own head. And I was there, well mostly there. Now I can go back and tell the stories. If you get lost you can return to this chapter to guide you. I think I will have to come back myself.