Tuesday, July 31, 2012

For the Record


It's high summer in the land of Yosemite and I'm aware. The air is soft and woolly, with a fuzzy feeling when you breathe it. The light of the morning sun is bright and vivid, but there is a tinge of softness about the edges. The mornings are cool, the days are heated, and the evenings are a reprieve from the scorching light and the simmering heat.
The palette of the mountains is soft yellows, faded greens and dark greens, and grey and grey-blues. It's accentuated by baby blue skies, earthy brown tree trunks and wildflowers blooming in purples, oranges and white.
Life is at ease.

There is less time for me to reflect and build the necessary cache of thoughts, ideas and motivation to write what it is that I feel.
Regardless, it's time to put what I may into words and onto digital record.

I live in a beautiful place. I think that is beyond contest. The beauty has struck me at certain times and in certain places so suddenly that I ache and experience it on an emotional level rather than an objective cognitive level.
I often long to photograph what I see, but as so often is the case, I leave the camera behind.
It has become an impediment to me, and I would just as soon experience the moment rather than stand on the outside of it and put it into the rectangular box of my camera's viewfinder.
However, the ache I feel is often tinged with a shade of regret for my inability to hold onto what I see with the power of my camera; the inability to save for savoring that which is so special, so ephemeral.
Alas, but there is little to be done, for to carry the camera is not to solve the problem, and to forgo the camera is freedom but compromise.

I'm tired of complaining. I'm complaining about complaining. I feel stuck in that rut. I'm building, building, ever building the motivation, the resolve and the plan to strike out on a new course. For the last year my life has been lived in unique stages, each one a precursor to the next, and each necessary for the progression and transformation that I seek.
August 28, 2011 I quit my job and sought direction. During that time, I committed to climbing the hardest boulder I had ever tried, and by September, I had succeeded (Moonstone, V6). Then, I ventured out to the Utah desert to climb and live for most of October. There I made new friends, bonded with my best friends, and learned about a different way of life: the dirtbag life.
Indeed, not all that I did did I do of my own design. I was invited, encouraged, or found the opportunity. What was more key was that from the moment I said “I quit”, I began to respond to and act on a little flutter in my stomach, a little beat of my heart—an instinct and a prescience—that I've long been aware of but only recently been bold enough to trust.
Through the winter I solidified plans, prepared for spring, and formed new friendships that I hope will have a lasting power.
I jettisoned the detritus of a ruined life and prepared afresh the foundation for a better life. That is, I threw away, sold and donated anything that was not necessary. I changed my mind toward the want and desire of physical things. Not wholly or completely, nay, but dramatically and thoughtfully. I became thoughtful and conscious of my spending, consuming and eating. Aware I was and aware I am. I don't have any claim to a “best” way of living, and I don't presume to proselytize what I'm doing.
Here's what I say: I'm happier now than I was before. I'm more satisfied with my decisions and I'm making attempts to improve myself as best as I may see fit based on my circumstances and priorities. Improvement is encouraging and fosters hope.
Enter Spring, the coming of fresh life and new hope. I made last preparations and struck out into the the Utah desert on March 14, 2012. A sea of pink, orange, red, and brown rock and stone. The sea is a place of unlimited travel opportunities; you can pilot yourself across the water in any direction you see fit. And so I felt of this desert, and I feel of all deserts. They are a sea; vast and of unlimited destinations. You need only be deft enough a pilot to reach any destination you choose. I feel and felt that the desert was fitting and a good place to start my journey. Until the waning of Spring I stayed in the desert, by Canyonlands and Zion. I traveled to Yosemite and became enveloped in this deep Grand Vale, surrounded by those grey grey-blue walls and the trees, ever green.
One year (a little less than), and I have come a long way from the Curtis I used to know.

So many retrospective focused blogs I've written.
But what about the future?
I've been told about a line of work generally referred to as Rope Access work. It's a catch all term for work that requires one of two certifications that are designed to ensure worker safety while working at height. You can find rope access work on an oil rig, in a construction site, at a wind turbine farm, or on the side of a high rise.
It pays well, or at least as well as what I was being paid as a mid-level employee at my last real job.
The reason this line of work has caught my fancy is that it doesn't require a permanent location, since the jobs are typically contract based or remote locations, so you're transported to the work site, you finish the job, and head home. I don't plan to have a home. Also, because of this nature—of contracts and remote locations—there is a lot more equality between time worked and time off. Working at height and with my hands sounds preferable to me, so this line of work is as good as any, as far as I can see.
I'm saving my money earned here to pay for the certification which is obtained from a company in Reno, NV. I plan to take the course at the end of the summer/beginning of fall, if all goes well.
So that's my plan, as good or as bad as it is. I don't know if it will work out, but I have to work and live in such a way that I don't feel like I'm wasting time away. Whether the work is as I believe it to be, or whether I'll ever get that job, I don't know.

I'll talk about climbing later. It's a stressor to me right now and I don't have my thoughts ordered well enough to delve into it.

Also, I know I've repeated myself a fair number of times, and I'm sorry if I've become monotonous. I'm aware of it at the least, if I'm not quite able to figure out how to say something fresh at the most.

Also and additionally, “Girls—all I really want is girls.” - The Beastie Boys.

Friday, July 6, 2012

White Wolf Lodge, Yosemite


Life has taken a new turn.

I now work(!) at White Wolf Lodge. It's a High Sierra camp in Yosemite. Outside The Valley, but inside the park. I'm at about 7,800 FT. ASL and I work as a “camp helper”. My duties include dishwashing, housekeeping, serving and other odd jobs as may be required by the camp.
It's a pretty fun job, mostly because I enjoy the company of my coworkers, and because I'm still situated in the park.

I'm meeting people, making friends, and I'm not worried about my finances as much as I have been.
All in all, I'm happy with the change, although I don't actually like devoting such a large portion of time to a job, or to work, which does not directly benefit me. After nearly 11 months of job-free freedom, it's taken some grit on my part to adapt to the demands of waking up early and doing things when I don't feel like it. I don't request your sympathy—I'm only observing the facts.
A little more freedom will be nice, and I still have a plan to achieve that.
I'm not sure how long I will work in the park, but the job I have now will definitely end September 10, so I know I will be making another change at that time.

I'm still climbing, but the climbing by White Wolf is sparse and mediocre. I hitch-hike into the valley on my weekends to boulder, and I'm enjoying the climbing much more for what it is, with less expectations.
Now that I'm working, I'm just appreciative of being able to climb some good rocks, instead of feeling like I need to be pushing grades. Now it's more about just trying to tick a lot of problems and see some different spots.

Although I'm not climbing as much, I'm running more, and I like that I'm running at a higher altitude than I have before.
I'm hoping to make some major progress in my running fitness while I'm at White Wolf.

Other than that, there isn't a lot to update.

I don't have internet, and there is no cell phone reception (not that I have a phone) at White Wolf, so the only time I can connect is when I head down the mountains (east or west).
We do have electricity, but it's generator generated and that's only from 6AM-11PM, and only in common areas.
I'm living in a tent cabin with a roommate. We have a wood burning stove for heat, and it was necessary a couple weeks ago, but now the temperatures are very mild and pleasant.

I know this is all very matter-of-fact but I just wanted to get an update out since it has been a while.
I'm planning on writing something a little more imaginative for a later post.