September 28, 2016 – Seattle, Washington

How do you know when to stop putting everyone else’s needs above your own?”

…the gentleman sitting across from me asks, rhetorically. He’s holding both of his arms out, palms up, painting a picture for Miri and I in regard to what it looks like to be a universal platelet donor. Platelets are a blood component whose function is to stop bleeding by clotting blood vessels. Coagulopathy, hemophilia, various deficiencies… many people need these kinds of donors.

Travelers flow around us, through us, circulating the terminal. Pathways lead them to their gates. Airplanes transmit them to the places that they need to be.

This man is in his early seventies and has already engaged us on topics such as Miri’s desire to act, current social issues, and the difficulties of having conversations with strangers due to (in his opinion) technology. He goes on to say that he doesn’t know “where to draw the line.”

He is a catalyst for people that he will never meet.

As Miri’s plane begins the boarding process, we start saying our goodbyes. The man had walked away, but decides to return and begins another conversation. She asks him to postpone this conversation until the plane ride. He inquires about where her seat is, and to their mutual surprise, discover that they will be sitting next to each other on the flight. What are the odds?

I begin walking toward my departure gate, but my mind continues to wander. I imagine society as one living aggregate. Like platelets, we attach ourselves to substances before facing our wounds. We turn on our receptors and secrete chemical messengers. We connect to each other, acting in concert.

We are one organism.

Our interactions with each other heal our wounds.

When we truly recognize the oneness of all humankind, our motivation to find peace will grow stronger. In the deepest sense we are really sisters and brothers, so we must share one another’s suffering. Mutual respect, trust, and concern for one another’s welfare are our best hope for lasting world peace.” – Tenzin Gyatso, Dalai Lama XIV

September 27, 2016 – Port Townsend, Washington

Well, this is one way to spend a vacation.

Cleaning dead rats out of a basement doesn’t exactly meet my ideals of a good time, but when you visit a fellow traveler at their host’s place…

It hasn’t all been bad. Organizing, cleaning, moving. Landscaping. Roofing. And then there are the activities that Miri has provided for me:

Exploring Port Townsend, a beautiful little city on the Northeast tip of the Olympic peninsula.

Volunteering at the local film festival and, in return, watching some films for free.

Camping out on a nearby beach overnight.

Due to a change of plans back in Bozeman (leaving the farm one month early), I decided it would be nice to come visit Miri out in Washington for a few days. She’s staying with an elderly lady who is transitioning into a smaller living space, therefore needing to rid herself of things she has acquired over the past number of God-knows-how-many years.

While eating dinner at a local Chinese restaurant one night before volunteering, Miri brought up an interaction that we had outside of Glacier National Park while filling the car up with gas. We were approached by a traveling man that appeared to be hitchhiking. We were almost pulling away, and when he asked for some spare change, I told him what I tell everyone that asks me for money – “I’m sorry, I don’t carry cash.” This is and was a true statement; I typically do not carry cash when I go places.

I had forgotten about this encounter completely.

Miri claimed that I was very short with this man. She said it wasn’t important that I didn’t have money to give, but that we could have offered him some of our food we brought for the overnight camping trip in the park. She thought it was inhumane to treat him the way I did. I defended my general position on giving away money by using excuses such as, “How do I know that people won’t just use the money for drugs,” which is my primary concern in cases like this.

We didn’t speak for a while. I paid the check and we left to go volunteer at the festival. No words until afterwards when we were walking back home. There were apologies on both ends, but she was right. Her passion for fighting against social injustice is a driving force in her life, and I love her for that.

And for how she challenges me. And for how she keeps my ego in check.

And for making me realize that I need to be more human to humans.

Humankind would improve if we concentrated less on being human and more on being kind.” – Ashwin Sanghi

September 17, 2016 – Wise River, Montana

Well, this was unexpected.

Last winter, I worked at Lutsen Resort in Minnesota for a guy named Jim. Quite the adventurous type, he talked a lot about his time in Alaska and Montana. When I told him I was spending the following year in Montana, he mentioned that he would probably be visiting, being that he still has a condo there.

And here we are.

Camping along the Wise River – a place famous in Montana for its fly fishing, camping, and scenery. The weekend thus far has included scenic drives, good conversation, fishing (Jim fishing, me taking photos), hiking, and camping. Not that I didn’t take the man for his word, but it just seems more and more rare that people actually hold themselves to it.

Maybe it’s because he’s an older guy.

On our hike, we came across two bowhunters on the trail. Jim greeted them and offered to turn around as to not interfere with their hunt, but they had decided to call it quits and engaged him in conversation instead. Turns out that these two were born and raised in the area. Almost immediately, they began voicing their concerns about the dwindling populations in fish due to the ever-increasing population of people and the overfishing that inherently results. They went on about grizzlies now living in the area which has affected their hunting, as well as how technology has completely changed the trajectory of our lives for the worse…

As I silently nod and agree with every word they have to say.

Part of the reason Jim came out to visit was to help him decide what to do with his condo. He bought it years ago, before Big Sky was what it is now – more people, more traffic, more buildings.

Less scenic. Less enchanting. Less pure.

It is of the nature of desire not to be satisfied, and most men live only for the gratification of it.” – Aristotle

September 3, 2016 – Bozeman, Montana

And then there were three.

Kevin, Elisabeth, and myself. I’m hiking up Sacagawea Peak with them and Thomas, thinking how quickly the time has passed with the others. Paul and Christine left yesterday. Haley and Ally are leaving tomorrow. Thomas is done on the farm, but staying in town. Mitsui’s gone. Tyler left as well, but not before fixing his van’s side mirror and announcing, “My mirror is being held together by underwear!”

Witnessing the fluidity of the others, I find myself becoming more and more thankful for the three beside me that remain. This is also the first time I’ve been in a situation that feels so much like living in a hostel without being an actual hostel…

Jesus, this lifestyle can be rough.

Recent celebrations bounce around my mind. Pizza and beer at Bridger Brewing. Family-style dinner at home, courtesy of Christine. Games. Drinks. We reach the peak, taking in some glorious views of the Bridger Mountains and Bozeman area. I start to think more about how it feels to be on the “other end.”

Getting to know people.

Watching them walk away.

Wishing they would stay.

And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness.” – Sylvia Plath

August 25, 2016 – Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming

And that… is a brief history of my colon.”

My cousin Molly always had a way with words. She’s driving my other cousins (Kelsey, Reese) and I from Yellowstone National Park to the Grand Tetons whilst entertaining us with too much information. Despite the forest fires blazing throughout the parks, we’re still managing to enjoy ourselves.

A much needed break to get away and clear my head.

Do I sense an annual tradition coming on? My immediate family only went on one or two vacations that I can remember… perhaps my cousins can fill that void from here on out. I’m sure it helps matters that we are all young and single, but I think more to the point is their sense of adventure. Kelsey initiated our trip to Europe. Reese went on excursions with me in Minnesota. Molly is taking charge of our current journey.

And I’m truly thankful for them all.

I would consider this the first time I’ve been away from the Midwest for as long as I have, and it feels great to have family come out and visit. Camping, hiking, sightseeing. How truly American of us.

If only we had some hats to throw into the geysers.

I’ve never looked more like a lesbian than right now.” – Molly

August 18, 2016 – Bozeman, Montana

…And here I am, left starving.

Fighting the intrusive thoughts, trying to focus on the task at hand. It’s my first time pouring concrete, but my mind keeps wandering toward a recent night that ended with much more than a kiss. Not even the slew of recent activities I’ve engaged in help to ease my mind:

Volunteering at the Community Cafe.

Practicing yoga in Lindley Park.

Hiking the “College M” trail.

The departure of Michelle; the arrival of Thomas.

One thing is for certain – we would not be able to complete such a task without the large number of volunteers we currently have on the farm. In fact, the amount of work we’ve done already is astonishing…

I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to have the relationship I want to right now…”

The text message stings, but I get it. She’s young. There are certain circumstances in play. Now just focus on your work. You’ll be fine.

You’re just stuck working with her.

Sharing a living space with her.

 

Childish.

We hunger in earnest for that which we cannot consume.” – Nenia Campbell

August 12, 2016 – Bozeman, Montana

It’s crazy how fast one year can go.

A shooting star appears, then vanishes. Just a year ago I was in Minnesota watching the Perseid meteor shower in a boat on a lake with my friends. This year I’m viewing it in Hyalite Canyon near the reservoir with new friends. I look at Ally, who is laying next to me on some blankets outside of my tent. Haley is next to her, followed by Mitsui.

We’re all smiles.

And why wouldn’t we be? It’s a perfect night under the “Big Sky,” and I’m comfortably close to a very attractive young woman who is pulling me closer. I was not expecting this. My night only gets better as I consume a few adult beverages and continue stargazing with the gang. We eventually move into the tent, where Ally and I talk for a while and end the night with a kiss.

I know better, but I can’t help myself.

And thus begins the endless series of questions: What does this girl want from me? Should I distance myself entirely? Can I control my thoughts and feelings towards her? Why am I always drawn to the wrong girls? Is it an issue of ego? Lack of experience in my younger years? Can I handle getting hurt again like I did back in Iowa City?

Infatuation sets in.

Or is it lust?

Desire is the kind of thing that eats you and leaves you starving.” – Nayyirah Waheed

August 10, 2016 – Bozeman, Montana

Our food system in this county is appalling.

Working in the food service industry for over ten years has shown me plenty about America’s wasteful habits, but this is new to me. Dumpster diving. Not necessarily your typical “dumpster,” this one is in the alley behind a local grocery store and contains mostly plastic, cardboard, and produce that doesn’t sell fast enough, I guess?

“Oh my God, look at those tomatoes…” one of us says. “These apples are totally fine,” another comments.

This is an activity that I wouldn’t normally engage in, but our farm leader encourages it, and the others seem alright with it. Part of this is about sustainability, right? We then head to the local food bank and retrieve a bounty of food that would otherwise go to waste. I’ve taken clients of mine to one of these before, but never been on the receiving end…

We bring the goods home to the rest of our team, which has increased in numbers by four: Paul and Christine from Belgium/France, and Haley and Ally from Rhode Island. The former two are my age, in a relationship, and an absolute pleasure to be around. The latter two are nineteen, single, and gorgeous.

Don’t even think about it, Nick. You’ve been down that road.

Work at the farm is going well: the team poured some concrete the other day for a tiny-house-in-the-making, as well as some entryway steps. I have been shaping a “tree sanctuary” of sorts with Mitsui and the girls. As if I need this kind of distraction. I enjoy the landscaping and artistic freedom that Brock has given us with the projects.

I can also feel my parental/provisional reflexes kicking in, as we are now up to nine volunteers at the farm. Sharing a tiny living space. Cooking for each other.

Caring for each other.

“In a world of seven billion people, set to grow to nine billion by 2050, wasting food makes no sense – economically, environmentally and ethically, aside from the cost implications, all the land, water, fertilizers and labour needed to grow that food is wasted – not to mention the generation of greenhouse gas emissions produced by food decomposing on landfill and the transport that is ultimately thrown away.” – Achim Steiner

August 2, 2016 – Bozeman, Montana

As I arrive in Bozeman, I find myself in awe yet again.

With the Bridger Mountains to the northeast, Big Belt Mountains to the northwest, Madison Range to the southwest, and Gallatin Range to the south, Bozeman’s geographical location is nothing short of awe-inspiring. I thought the summer set the bar too high, but maybe not…? I eventually locate my new temporary residence, which turns out to be close to the MSU campus. I immediately feel like I’m back in Iowa City.

Be careful, Nick.

Entering the basement apartment, I meet my co-workers/roommates: Mitsui from Brazil whom I will be rooming with, and Kevin and Elisabeth from Vermont who share the other bedroom. There’s a half kitchen and half living room. I’ve had worse. After some time I also meet Michelle, who resides in a truck camper down the street, but shares the community spaces with us. Five of us total. They all seem nice. I decide to get settled in.

Later, we all take bikes to the nearby bowling alley to engage in some team-building time over cold brews and colder lanes. We’re farmers, not bowlers. We then decide to try our luck at pool at the nearby “Rocking R” bar. More beer, more laughs. We stay too long, then ride our bikes home under the stars. A beautiful first night.

I think I’ll like it here.

The first day of work is good, but hard. Physically demanding. HOT. I’m not properly hydrated, per me. Brock, who seems very kind, gives me tasks such as weeding, transporting wood chips – as well as massive logs – and creating frames for concrete steps. I observe newly constructed buildings, a pond, a hugelkultur pile, and various farm animals (chickens, goats, rabbits, cats). There are various garden and orchard areas. Seems like a great place.

Brock gives me permission to film for my project, which excites me. After work, I walk around downtown Bozeman and apply for jobs. I also apply to Big Sky resort for the winter.

I feel truly fortunate to be here, now.

“Solo travel is a rare opportunity to (somewhat) disentangle yourself from the influences and expectations of your everyday life. It’s an opportunity to follow your own rhythm and interests. To sit quietly and discover whether your feelings for a piece of art, a hike, music, a destination, an experience of any kind, are real. To discover who you are when no one is looking.” – Janice Waugh

July 31, 2016 – Hungry Horse, Montana

A timeline of the most remarkable July of my life:

July 4th – Miri and I walk around Hungry Horse and observe hundreds of people lighting off their own fireworks in the center of town. The celebration lasts for hours.

July 5th – Miri and I set out for a two-day trip into Glacier National Park (East Glacier/Two Medicine/Many Glacier). We hike trails, converse, remain silent, encounter our first bear. It’s my first back-country camping experience, and it feels like one of the greatest things I’ve ever done with my life.

July 12th – Miri and I go cliff diving in the Hungry Horse reservoir with Beth and Chuck (Tom’s daughter and son-in-law). We feel alive. It’s a month of many “firsts.” Lisa arrives.

July 13th – Miri leaves for Washington. I am saddened.

July 17th – We cater a fundraising event featuring zookeeper Jack Hannah. I serve him a slice of cheesecake. The positive response to our work is overwhelming.

July 22nd – Lisa and I attend a private book reading with Meg and Tom at the historic Wheeler Cabin in Glacier National Park. The author (Terry Tempest Williams) expresses her concerns about conservation and her feelings toward the native people of this country. She signs a book for Meg.

July 24th – The four of us hike the Highline Trail in Glacier National Park. It’s great to see Meg and Tom get out for a hike. The terrain is unbelievable. I think of my family, wishing that they could see the “Crown of the Continent.” Tom and I see a grizzly near the road as we drive out of the park.

July 26th – Lisa and I drive up Desert Mountain to stargaze at her request. We catch the sunset as well. Unexpectedly, we also witness a faint showing of the Northern Lights.

July 29th – Amanda (a co-worker at the rafting company) and I hike the 20-mile Pitamakan Pass trail in Glacier. This becomes my favorite hike thus far. Miri would have loved it. I enjoy getting to know Amanda better.

July 31st – I enjoy my final dinner with Meg and Tom. They will be missed, and so will this place.

“For you Meg, Nicholas, Lisa, Tom. Blessings – your hands upon the Earth. 22 July 16” – Terry Tempest Williams