Categories
Travel

Grindelwald, Faulhorn, Schynige Platte, Interlaken

Day 6

36 Miles and Three more weeks to go.

The breakfast fare was typical and I ate what I’d usually eat  – yogurt, granola, and coffee. My hiking pants were beginning to get a little snug. The nice thing about having few clothes was that I took care of what I had. The day looked sunny and it turned out cloudy with spotted sun, no rain but a lot of wind.

We arranged our packs and headed out. I was glad to leave Grindelwald this way. We found the chalet we were unable to find yesterday -the house on the knoll. We passed small fields and yards, flowers and people working. There was dew on the ground and the 64 franc gondolas passing over head. The extra 3-4 miles this was adding onto our hike was worth it. The beginning of our climb had asphalt roads used as paths.

I wrote this in my journal:

Two hours up from Grindelwald mountains growl with the passing airplanes. We walk through the topiary forest, a natural japanese garden with water fall streams and organic made bamboo see saws, tipping and bouncing off rocks. Smooth wooden benches formed from hiker butts. New glaciers form in front of a clear blue sky.

It was getting pretty cold. We were sweating through and when we took our backsacks off I would begin to freeze. It was on this hike that I took one of my favorite photos – showing everything we carried, and all we took for a month. I had to leave room for eventual souvenirs too.

We began to pass a few structures in mucky fields. Older people were hiking down. Maybe by now it was 10 or 11 in the morning. The fact that so many 60-70 year olds were doing this amazed me. The area had a lot of cow waste smells, the field turned to rock and grass slopping meadows and I was really ready to find this picturesque view of Balchapasee. Then we came upon the lower lake.

Everyone raved of the clear days, the reflections of the mountains off of this pristine lake. Not until we climbed up to the other side of it, sat down to eat and look from where we’d come from did we truly appreciate the view. At first we were both thinking…what’s all the hype about? We ate our nut mix and gummy bears. Phil filmed me and watching myself made me realize that I sometimes spoke without a point. I spoke with pointlessness actually and it was annoying to watch me open my mouth and let spill out whatever my mind was piecing together. hm. Amazing what you can learn watching yourself.

 

It took us 4.5 hours from Grindelwald to Faulhorn. From there we could see the gem sea trapped by the mountains, Interlaken. Up 1200 feet per hour was tiring to a late 20’s couple. There were some grassy fields with open vistas back toward a framed view of the mountains. But, what was about to come was more varied, from Faulhorn to Schynige Platte. In hindsight we could have gotten a bus from Grindelwald to Buesalp, or even stayed at a different place like Wanderweg nearby instead. Taking a hike from Buesalp via Rotihorn to Balchapsee and then onward to Faulhorn would have worked nicely too.

Ah, but Falhorn. It is the first hike we have taken to peer down on any mountains in this trip. From here we see our first glimpse of the aqua lake, and crisp clear teal water of Thurnsea and Brienzersee. The seas are strung like a bead threading through land connecting range to range, North to South.

At 8100 feet, after bean soup, we decide we must go to Schynige Platte. It took us three hours from Faulhorn to Patte. Leaving time to photo the golden eagles. Make sure to arrive in time to catch the last cog train down into Winderswil. On a Wednesday in September 5:53 was the last train down. We hiked that day from 9 – 5:15 and we were zonked. It was long. Faulhorn to Platte was not difficult (or scary), at times had fist sized rock or larger that was unstable. It made mountain music. The sleek soft rock embedded with years of rain and slow grooves took tiresome to my knees. A lot of looking down to be sure footed, it was like climbing ancient mountains and naturally formed graveyards of boulder sized tumbling rock. There were actong signs to watch for rams, but we never saw any. At one hour away from Platte the paths became places to look into the valleys and gorge from where we had come. The Jungfrau opens up to us out over the grassy plain. We spot Grindelwald again, 7 1/2 hours of walking away.

In our catalog of hikes Phil had this hike more difficult than Mt. St. Helen, but not me!

What I enjoy after this trip is the top peak of our trip where my video of Phil shows him talking, but no words can be heard. His map is flapping furiously and the whole scene is so comical. At Faulhorn, the last switchbacks up to this high point with a tattered swiss flag are killer. Sometimes it’s too much to see the top before you begin climbing. A top of Faulhorn, where we see a wooden roof and hear there may be food inside. The wind by now, as we’ve stopped walking, is through us. The pristine views of the turquoise seas to the north and the green hills to our south are glorious and gem like compared to the bland and cold sky.

We open the creaky wooden doors expecting an interior to match the shab exterior and find ourselves walking over the threshold of a Hollywood movie scene.

Inside is a Paulie’s girl clanking beer mugs for us to join in the drinking. This 40 x 12′ structure is packed with about thirty people. How did everyone get up here – and how is this a restaurant? Soup and beer await. We share a table beside 2 Californians who are coming the opposite direction we are and say our trek ahead is scary. Hm. My definition of scary is much higher I realize than many of the elder people we meet. So we sit with warm hearts and eyes to one another and take a gamble on the journey that follows. The couple by the window leaves and we have to step out to let them by because this place is packed. It really was like steeping into a portal. I expected a city outside of this establishment.  We could take a bus 3 miles away or we could go discover Platte, and that is exactly what we did.

 

So, at the end of the day our long long hike made us so tired. But, we didn’t stop there. We walked another mile to dinner after setting up at Balmers Interlaken Hostel… the coolest hostel I’d ever been in.

Below is an Oberland Map I drew as well as a google map looking south on our trek.

 

 

 

Categories
About Me

2010 in Review

What a Year it’s been!

My Mom and I made a wedding dress. My husband and I planned our wedding. We got married. We planned our honeymoon, which actually took more time, and took a month-long honeymoon. We made time for spending with friends. We found out that in the next year we would be an aunt and uncle. We traveled to Switzerland and Italy.  I visited a good friend in Texas. My career became better defined as I began searching for work as a Sustainable Interior Architect. I ran races including my first triathlon in Morgantown, The Ogden relay race where Phil and I placed first, thanks to him, and I participated in a shared triathlon in Marlington WV with my best friend cheering me on.. telling me to ‘Tri like a Girl.’ We were able to spend Christmas with both of our families and ring in the new year with my sister and her husband. Whew!

WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

Crunchy numbers

Featured image

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 9,000 times in 2010. That’s about 22 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 71 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 77 posts. There were 477 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 430mb. That’s about 1 pictures per day.

The busiest day of the year was June 15th with 93 views. The most popular post that day was Beyond My Fascination with Legos.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were linkedin.com, en.wordpress.com, statistics.bestproceed.com, images.yandex.ru, and wedding.ebonito.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for mesa verde, villa savoye, sagrada familia, villa savoye plan, and villa savoye plans.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

1

Beyond My Fascination with Legos January 2010

2

Clarkitecture Part 1 – Being Sustainable January 2010
1 comment

3

…and from the Young We are Inspired! March 2010

4

About Kellie December 2009
1 comment

5

The Sustainability Of Interiors June 2010

Categories
About Me Community Resolutions

Over qualified, Over paid, Under appreciated.

Why is there so much work to do and too many unemployed people? How do we find work, and ourselves, in a bad economy: what if we all lowered the bar a little, lost our egos and began to help our neighbors? I suggest the only thing we have to do to find work, is listen.

Imagine living in an overly happy world, where people read your mind. The neighbor made extra dinner and brought it over the day you were running late, someone pulled up with a can of gas as your car was coasting on an empty tank to the side of the road. When your best friend saw you walking down the street on a day you needed comfort. What if everyone who could help you were within walking distance, an interconnected world beyond wireless, a world where our actions and desires could be filled by simply being open to the fact that they could be.

I believe this overly happy world is the case, it exists around us right now, and if you don’t believe me I am going to suggest a good case of listening.

Think about your best friend. The best thing about friends are the way they listen. In return, the best thing about a friend is listening. When is the last time you were inspired talking to yourself?

Listening is about

enjoying an

o p p o r t u n i t y

and, you guessed it, about being more open. Lose your ego and discover where you find yourself. In a deeply interconnected world, I need to be less critical, even in my mind. Respecting someone with my thoughts if the first way to allowing them an opportunity to inspire me.

We give up the richness in life when we choose talking over listening. When I assume I know everything about you and my way is better, I forfeit the base of a relationship and an opportunity to enrich my life with something else.

How does this apply when looking for work? I’ll take myself as an example.

The woman I want to be: Someone who doesn’t need too much but likes the quality of things like a great china dish, a cuddling mug for coffee in the morning, things I’ve paired with a crisp table and fine linens that don’t match but look good as my collection. I want to make my own clothes, have time to think. I like this writing. I like a book club, I like arranging a room and the search for items but not as much as I like ordering what I have or making things I need. I like dinner conversations with my husband. I like to give my opinion on big questions. I like being conservative with what I own and how I spend time. I like hosting discussions…could I start a studio for community action? I like to draw and dream. I am an architect, I am a runner. I like coming together for group critiques. I love conversations with my friends.

Now, lets look at how this may apply to what I do for work, and treat it boldly, sarcastically as we all do when we sell ourselves. It is how we come across when we have the idea of what we deserve.

I am good at what I do. In the professional society I am specialized but can cover a large general area with what I do. As an architect I can dream, realize an actual, economical and buildable project for a client,  I can draw pretty pictures and fly you around in a 3D model. I can conceptualize, help you find a contractor and get your project built with one. I am a visual person. On the side I am a writer, I teach gymnastics, I enjoy art and galley openings, deep conversations and traveling. I can work hard for you and I am a little expensive.

Expensive. Hm… How many more thing I would do if they weren’t so expensive. Who else would hire me if they thought I was inexpensive. Now that I am a professional I can do these things because I can afford them. In a perfect world I’m paid well and often, so well, I can work less and earn more. I can afford my own time now.

But, it’s not the same for everyone.

Many people in my profession are unemployed, many people are trying to find higher paying jobs. Good employers don’t want to spend too much money on anyone they hire and we are all wasting too much time thinking about it. Everyone is being very picky about what they deserve. (I heard this last week listening to NPR) Why don’t we all just lower the bar a little?

I think I’m great. We all think we’re great. We know what we deserve, and that’s the problem. Has anything ever turned out exactly how you’ve expected? Does the right school, too many extra curricular activities, everything, ever mattered as much as the attitude you have toward it? I’d have to say for myself that it never did.

Too often we run around in a dazed, worried world in which we are not able to look outside of the bubble and question what really matters… question the heart of what it is we are trying to obtain. That’s why I think we should lower the bar on what we think we deserve. Don’t be too close minded to mistake work for an opportunity. You decide what matters most.

Too many of us believe we deserve our lifestyle -that we should not have to work hard. It’s discouraging to some, the state of our current welfare system -that everyone has the right to money for food -and everyone isn’t granted instead the right to work. (To earn money and make a difference could all be rolled into one!)

You and I need to be better listeners. As I began to seek answers I came across many applicable resources.  Charles Eisenstein wrote an article about community titled Shareable: A Circle of Gifts, an article in Architecture Record by Robert Ivy, an AIA lecture, and had a conversation with a friend about working together.

Charles Eisenstein views community as the answer to our overly commercial, less fulfilling, dwindling resource world. If we are to make a difference we can begin by helping those around us, so that in return we can depend on them. Beyond this main point he describe the history of communication and the change of our lifestyles to be more individualized.  Our focus has become monetized and as a result, less giving. He introduces  Alpha Lo’s idea and a social invention describing the gift circle as a way of fixing this. Isn’t it about love anyway? I suggest you read this article! Shareable: A Circle of Gifts

Here is a part of the article:

Wherever I go and ask people what is missing from their lives, the most common answer (if they are not impoverished or seriously ill) is “community.” What happened to community, and why don’t we have it any more? There are many reasons – the layout of suburbia, the disappearance of public space, the automobile and the television, the high mobility of people and jobs – and, if you trace the “why’s” a few levels down, they all implicate the money system.

More directly posed: community is nearly impossible in a highly monetized society like our own. That is because community is woven from gifts, which is ultimately why poor people often have stronger communities than rich people. If you are financially independent, then you really don’t depend on your neighbors – or indeed on any specific person – for anything. You can just pay someone to do it, or pay someone else to do it.

In former times, people depended for all of life’s necessities and pleasures on people they knew personally. If you alienated the local blacksmith, brewer, or doctor, there was no replacement. Your quality of life would be much lower. If you alienated your neighbors then you might not have help if you sprained your ankle during harvest season, or if your barn burnt down. Community was not an add-on to life, it was a way of life. Today, with only slight exaggeration, we could say we don’t need anyone. I don’t need the farmer who grew my food – I can pay someone else to do it. I don’t need the mechanic who fixed my car. I don’t need the trucker who brought my shoes to the store. I don’t need any of the people who produced any of the things I use. I need someone to do their jobs, but not the unique individual people. They are replaceable and, by the same token, so am I.

That is one reason for the universally recognized superficiality of most social gatherings. How authentic can it be, when the unconscious knowledge, “I don’t need you,” lurks under the surface? When we get together to consume – food, drink, or entertainment – do we really draw on the gifts of anyone present? Anyone can consume. Intimacy comes from co-creation, not co-consumption, as anyone in a band can tell you, and it is different from liking or disliking someone. But in a monetized society, our creativity happens in specialized domains, for money.

To forge community then, we must do more than simply get people together. While that is a start, soon we get tired of just talking, and we want to do something, to create something. It is a very tepid community indeed, when the only need being met is the need to air opinions and feel that we are right, that we get it, and isn’t it too bad that other people don’t … hey, I know! Let’s collect each others’ email addresses and start a listserv!

Community is woven from gifts. Unlike today’s market system, whose built-in scarcity compels competition in which more for me is less for you, in a gift economy the opposite holds. Because people in gift culture pass on their surplus rather than accumulating it, your good fortune is my good fortune: more for you is more for me. Wealth circulates, gravitating toward the greatest need. In a gift community, people know that their gifts will eventually come back to them, albeit often in a new form. Such a community might be called a “circle of the gift.”

Fortunately, the monetization of life has reached its peak in our time, and is beginning a long and permanent receding (of which economic “recession” is an aspect). Both out of desire and necessity, we are poised at a critical moment of opportunity to reclaim gift culture, and therefore to build true community. The reclamation is part of a larger shift of human consciousness, a larger reunion with nature, earth, each other, and lost parts of ourselves. Our alienation from gift culture is an aberration and our independence an illusion. We are not actually independent or “financially secure” – we are just as dependent as before, only on strangers and impersonal institutions, and, as we are likely to soon discover, these institutions are quite fragile.

Given the circular nature of gift flow, I was excited to learn that one of the most promising social inventions that I’ve come across for building community is called the Gift Circle. Developed by Alpha Lo, co-author of The Open Collaboration Encyclopedia, and his friends in Marin County, California, it exemplifies the dynamics of gift systems and illuminates the broad ramifications that gift economies portend for our economy, psychology, and civilization.

The ideal number of participants in a gift circle is 10-20. Everyone sits in a circle, and takes turns saying one or two needs they have. In the last circle I facilitated, some of the needs shared were: “a ride to the airport next week,” “someone to help remove a fence,” “used lumber to build a garden,” “a ladder to clean my gutter,” “a bike,” and “office furniture for a community center.” As each person shares, others in the circle can break in to offer to meet the stated need, or with suggestions of how to meet it.

When everyone has had their turn, we go around the circle again, each person stating something he or she would like to give. Some examples last week were “Graphic design skills,” “the use of my power tools,” “contacts in local government to get things done,” and “a bike,” but it could be anything: time, skills, material things; the gift of something outright, or the gift of the use of something (borrowing). Again, as each person shares, anyone can speak up and say, “I’d like that,” or “I know someone who could use one of those.”

During both these rounds, it is useful to have someone write everything down and send the notes out the next day to everyone via email, or on a web page, blog, etc. Otherwise it is quite easy to forget who needs and offers what. Also, I suggest writing down, on the spot, the name and phone number of someone who wants to give or receive something to/from you. It is essential to follow up, or the gift circle will end up feeding cynicism rather than community.

Finally, the circle can do a third round in which people express gratitude for the things they received since the last meeting. This round is extremely important because in community, the witnessing of others’ generosity inspires generosity in those who witness it. It confirms that this group is giving to each other, that gifts are recognized, and that my own gifts will be recognized, appreciated, and reciprocated as well.

It is just that simple: needs, gifts, and gratitude. But the effects can be profound.

First, gift circles (and any gift economy, in fact) can reduce our dependence on the traditional market. If people give us things we need, then we needn’t buy them. I won’t need to take a taxi to the airport tomorrow, and Rachel won’t have to buy lumber for her garden. The less we use money, the less time we need to spend earning it, and the more time we have to contribute to the gift economy, and then receive from it. It is a virtuous circle.

Secondly, a gift circle reduces our production of waste. It is ridiculous to pump oil, mine metal, manufacture a table and ship it across the ocean when half the people in town have old tables in their basements. It is ridiculous as well for each household on my block to own a lawnmower, which they use two hours a month, a leaf blower they use twice a year, power tools they use for an occasional project, and so on. If we shared these things, we would suffer no loss of quality of life. Our material lives would be just as rich, yet would require less money and less waste.

Whether natural or social, the reclamation of the gift-based commonwealth not only hastens the collapse of a growth-dependent money system, it also mitigates its severity. At the present moment, the market faces a crisis, merely one of a multiplicity of crises (ecological, social) that are converging upon us. Through the turbulent time that is upon us, the survival of humanity, and our capacity to build a new kind of civilization embodying a new relationship to earth and a new, more connected, human identity, depends on these scraps of the commonwealth that we are able to preserve or reclaim. Although we have done grievous damage to earth, vast wealth still remains. There is still richness in the soil, water, cultures and biomes of this planet. The longer we persist under the status quo, the less of that richness will remain and the more calamitous the transition will be.

On a less tangible level, any gifts we give contribute to another kind of common wealth – a reservoir of gratitude that will see us through times of turmoil, when the conventions and stories that hold civic society together fall apart. Gifts inspire gratitude and generosity is infectious. Increasingly, I read and hear stories of generosity, selflessness, even magnanimity that take my breath away. When I witness generosity, I want to be generous too. In the coming times, we will need the generosity, the selflessness, and the magnanimity of many people. If everyone seeks merely their own survival, then there is no hope for a new kind of civilization. We need each others’ gifts as we need each others’ generosity to invite us into the realm of the gift ourselves. In contrast to the age of money where we can pay for anything and need no gifts, soon it will be abundantly clear: we need each other.

Work for love.

Work at love.

Give love a chance.

Robert Ivy writes of the importance of a tangible urban society. In Architecture Records’ August 2010 editorial titled Scraping the Limits.

Today’s fragile world, with its dwindling resources and expanding populations, is calling for other agendas in the West. Attribute it to changing fortunes or the bitter aftertaste of spilled oil, our architectural sights have now shifted to a more socially, environmentally conscious agenda. We’re imagining a smaller scale, hands-on, ecofriendly urban world. We have corrected our course from too much bigness. Right?

AIA 2009 Convention lector, Peter Head of Arup tells us that first steps to advancing an ecoecology society from an industrial society is to involve community… bring together the experience of people to form a collective voice – made of many parts from the get go. He speaks of finding the connectivity of what exists in a community to implement better resource management. This is called open source modeling. This advances a greater social cohesion. Our skills need to be shared, pulled together and pushed quickly he says! Projects come from action. Community is so important in development. We need multidisciplinary teams who put in a small amount of work to solve each other’s problems as the first step. Before projects, these charrettes and workshops in the early stages help to seek an entire answer for a community to use its resources within and together, to create a closed loop, dependant upon one another. This is best for the world when we consider the limit of our resources. He ends with… ‘we are always in a reflectful phase.’

That is inspirational. Once I’ve started listening I hear more and more about communities, grassroot organizations, local people, and friends making small differences with our actions that are copied by those around us.

This makes me question …what does my community need to overcome to work together better? What barriers exist that take up our time and prevent an open, eager, listening mind? It seems like the last generation  has impressed the tradition of territorial behaviors upon us. I live in Ohio but work in West Virginia. I say we need to ‘Bridge the River!’ I have family within an hour away in Pennsylvania.  There is the Power of 32, thirty-two counties trying to break down borders. These antiquated limits of state lines we live by need to be rethought.

My time most likely involves things that I am passionate about. So why shouldn’t my work involve things I am passionate about? Instead of trying to figure out how you should make money, perhaps you should be questioning what you should be spending time doing.

If I am to engage in community I should do that with my work. It has worked for the local advocate, gardener, vista volunteer, Danny Swan. Through his passionate efforts of growing a garden he had helped to feed and empower young children in depressed areas, -children that live within two minutes walking distance of where I work each day.

It’s not about money, it’s about helping your neighbors. We all need to work harder to help people in our own community. Stop thinking about what you deserve and give someone what they need.

 

Categories
Travel

Grindelwald, This town is for Rock Climbers

(The photo I wanted to find for yesterday.

Can you imagine crossing this bridge?)

Day 5

I woke up to the mountain snow reflecting a pink cast into our room. I’m happy the breakfast room is just off of our hallway room. Latin music plays this morning at 7:30.

The alpine style was hiking shoes, tight thermal pants with lots of zippers and turtleneck fleeces. Phil and I were under dressed for the occasion.

When looking at a map, Grindelwald does not look large, but from town, the mountain sides creep up in the North and South direction, creating an East to West crease along which the main street spans over a long distance. There are many streets perpendicular from the main street which creep up into North and Southern mountains.

We decided after morning laundry in the bottom floor of a hotel (where we played name that place on a world map), we’d take lunch at one of Grindelwald’s overlooks – The PfingStegg.

There was the Jungfrau pass that we didn’t purchase, and it may have been worth it to get a discount on some of these gondolas, but we learned about it too late. We paid our amount to ride and rest our legs.

I wrote and Phil drew, then we took turns filming the shimmering layers of spruce. We located FIRST, the first location we’d take a gondola to tomorrow, then walk from there to Schynige Platte. Once there, we’d take a  cog train down into Interlaken.

From the lunch deck where we had soup and beer I looked out over the town. Grindelwald is it’s own stream collecting to form a strong spine of a chalet ridden city. This town is for rock climbers. Eiger’s face is the sheerest vertical face in the world.

After lunch we took a short walk to hug the mountain path -an even cut into the side with no elevation change. We needed to rest our bodies for tomorrow.

The weather felt like the end of fall. The brooks coming down the mountain were so clean, they ran over stripped dolomite rock making them turn beautiful gold and green colors. Behind us was the beautiful peak of the mountain we’d taken the sunset pictures of the night before.

We strolled along, Phil always wanting to see where the next turn lead to. We came back to the gondola and decided to try and find a chalet in the town that was perched on a green knoll of perfect grass. We walked south once we landed back in town. The difference between riding a lift and walking changed the impact of the view. It was better when you earned it.

Mysteriously, my sister noticed that the couple looks exactly like my parents from behind… I think we were being followed!

Trying to find that chalet lead us into a church graveyard. The pristine plots were well-tended. Like around town, there were constant free-flowing troughs where people would cup their hands and drink or fill their canteen to water their garden plots surrounding their loved ones.

The church was closed. The prayer chapel a few 100 feet from it was a more modern glass building. It felt like a set. Everything was perfect and placed.

(I found this photo on Google Earth)

We passed Onkel Tom’s Hutte – a delicious smelling pizza joint where we decided we’d come back for dinner. The quaint,  10 x 10 out-door seating arrangements were contained in garden pods with old sewing machines and water mill sculptures setting the mood.

The sun was strong, it was setting a piercing sunset already. It felt good to be warm on our faces. I was glad it had begun to open the sky just as we were finishing lunch.

We decided to check out what it would take to transport ourselves up to “FIRST” and found it would take 64 swiss francs! With food alone we were spending a fortune in Switzerland -not to mention the train/ bus transportation costs. Everything was so expensive, yet everything had been so easy to plan in advance from the U.S. Everything here was so clean, well-kept and timely – but 64 francs to go 10 minutes? We gave them an ‘ok’ sign and decided we would walk.

This was now our proposed path.

Phil was able to track our hike with Google Earth and what we’d end up doing tomorrow would be to date our most difficult hiking challenge – 14 miles and a vertical climb of 4922 feet from Grindelwald to Schynige Platte.

We went back to The Downtown Lodge to refresh and rest before dinner with this new information swimming in our heads. We got our quick showers and dressed for dinner in our usual fare -hiking pants, cuddle duds for me and an orange long john for Phil and we headed back to Toms to discuss our plan of attack!

The restaurant was crowded and full except for one large table under the stair. A German couple who we could not converse with sat at the other end. Phil and I ate salads, drank a recommended wine and split a pizza. Both of us were quiet. The place was so warm and comfortable, – it was very romantic. We looked at maps and I’d brought my Italy language book because Phil was feeling the need to have a purpose. Our purpose would far outreach the time we were living – as for example now, almost three months later, I was able to recall moments of each day better than I could tell you what I did last Wednesday. Later in our trip we would quiz one another on meals, and maybe because we were familiar with our path of cities, or the fact that it changed every day, something make it easy to remember each moment and meal.

We determined a direction from Grindelwald. We had bought gummy bears and snacks to pack for our hike and a huge water to fill the camelback. We felt prepared as we climbed into our white sheet sacks next to one another in our pushed together twin beds.

Where the Jungfrau pass could take you cheaper!

 

Categories
Travel

Living Even, Murren to Grindelwald, via the Gorge

Day 4

We woke up to slick streets in Murren. The fog had not lifted but from our huge breakfast window we were able to see the perennial waterfalls come from the mountains across the gorge.

Breakfast was in a tall white room, still in the school-house hotel of Hotel Regina. We had buffet style cheese, oatmeal and yogurt. Coffee was served in a silver canteen by someone who spoke to us only in German. We wrote post cards and read maps and decided to walk to Gimmewald to take a lift down into the Gorge.  The southern end of the gorge ending in the foothills of the Alps, the northern ending in the low lands of Interlaken.

We walked to the higher levels of Murren before leaving. We were looking for a good overview of the town. We walked down flattened grass and muddy trails into the forest with slick roots and dense trees. There were many 5″ thick slugs in the native grass, and as we entered the dark Alpine forest we had to guess our way to Gimmewald. We found the city by chance as the clouds parted for just a minute to give us a glimpse. We followed our senses and met a Japanese couple just as we were coming into that town to find the lift down.  We ended up spending half our day with To-Ke-Ko and her husband.

We weren’t expecting the lift to be so breath-taking. When Phil and I boarded the 20 person gondola we stepped to the front of the car. We noticed once we were moving that the cable seemed to fall off directly over the hill, and when our ride approached the edge of the cliff we both had to step back in amazement.  Once we were surefooted again, we took a few pictures as we came down into the gorge.  It was an unexpected, amazing ride. Thankfully we didn’t try to go near the cliff on foot at all. We weren’t prepared to do any scaling!  A few swinging foot bridges of wooden planks hung over the gaping crevices. I can’t imagine ever ever wanting to attempt those!

I took these photos from the Travel Blythe Clan because they really captured the reality of falling over the cliff of Gimmewald into the gorge.

We began to tour the gorge after toppling into it with our friends. We walk and let the 1000 meter sides contain us. We are trying to find Trummelbach Falls. The waterfalls should be strong today because of the rains. Tokeko talks to me of the flowers she has visited in Russia over July 4th. She has gone to see them in the mountains, and as we walk along a grey mountain stream she picks flowers that are growing to tell me about them. We talked of her daughter’s children, and her son’s. We talked about family and ‘being close.’ She picked a Japanese Lantern and told me of what they tasted like when she was a child.

Later that night I would be served one with my dinner, as if by coincidence. Phil, in the mean time, held a conversation with her husband who we each had to piece together. He talked and Phil described the conversation as questioning the celebration of success. China had adopted the United States mentality of work, consumption, and money. Japan was following China. What about living even? Taking care of your own measure.  Summiting your own peaks -tending your own garden?

We lost our friends as we began to climb the rocky stairs of Trummelbach Falls. We put on our rain gear and enjoyed talking over the pounding water. The falls have carved themselves into the gorge side, and a trail now leads us into the rock to find the waterfall.  It is a rock house waterfall -pounding nature.Slick steps lead us up, down and through the waters way of crashing. We shared the orange Tokeko had given us as a gift when she learned we were on our honeymoon. We ate nuts and berries that we had packed from the prior day’s hike.

I wrote: We walk and the 1000 meter sides contain us, let the waterfalls crash. We just walk -all of our belongings here -with one another. So free, and full and ready to take in and take time.

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We walked into Lauderbruden from the falls and wanted to find somewhere to have warm soup. The grass was so green, I felt alive and free and open, even in the gorge, as if it made me feel that way with it’s shape. Waterfalls looked like they were falling on houses, and no one here even gave them a second glance. We sat on the front porch of a restaurant and had soup and coffee. Phil’s shoulders hurt, but I was doing ok with most of my backsack weight around my waist.  We admired the green roofs and pristine graveyards of the town. There were places to camp before we came into town. It was here that I realized the direct effects of coffee. It made me happy. No wonder I loved Italy so much. At the top of every peak, around every corner, just outside every church, there was coffee… but that finding was yet to come.

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After lunch we walked to Wengen to get a train lift to Grindelwald. Phil, I learned, was more direct and perceived the reality of situations better than I did. Traveling with him was such ease compared to trying to figure it out myself. We boarded the train he suggested and in only a few moments found ourselves walking off into the wild wonderful world of tourist driven Grindelwald!

I took this photo as we were leaving the Gorge, just before boarding the train.

The wonderful thing about Switzerland is that the directional signage is spot on. Many signs described our hikes along the way, telling us exactly how long to expect it to take and luckily, the signs were just at our pace. The same held true for arriving in a town and finding your accommodation. We found The Downtown Lodge without problem.  If there was one hotel I wished not to find, it was this one. We didn’t have a problem the two nights we stayed there, I just couldn’t sleep. I wanted to open it up and paint everything white. I don’t trust old looking carpet and I am afraid of bugs. The coffee was good though and Phil wasn’t too upset considering our view out of the window.

That would be mighty Eiger. We quickly unpacked and organized our belongings so that we could go discover this Swiss town. We were progressively, since Griesalp, staying in larger and larger towns, until we would find ourselves in Interlaken before moving south to Italy.

We found Cafe Bar C & M nearby. Wanting to take in the beautiful surroundings on the deck outside, catching a mountain sun setting, was made warmer by the fleece blankets provided by the staff as we decided to order beers, write and read. Phil began studying the map, which became a favorite dinner pass time for us on our entire trip.

The servers say cheers when they bring the beer and wine. We moved inside and sat upstairs in a loft on upholstered chairs in a very chic restaurant with only a few tables. I didn’t imagine this was up the stairs from the small bar downstairs. I like .3 liters of beer, a medium size. My face feels warmer after sun down. We are tired after dinner but decide to take in desert in another nearby restaurant between us and home. Either that or I am avoiding our accommodation. I had a great sleep, a full stomach, and woke up early to write before Phil joined me for breakfast.

 

 

 

Categories
Travel

Griesalp to Murren

Day 3

Respect the Cliff. Respect the Mountain. I climbed the Alpen.

Another fantastic site to check out where to stay when you want to hike the Alps is Map.Wanderland, a Hiking in Switzerland website.

We were hiking a National Route called the Via Alpina. From Griesalp to Murren is considered a section. We went from Griesalp, where we stayed at the Naturfreundehaus Gorneren (considered not to be in Griesalp but Kiental, the next city over.. however only a two-mile walk from town center Griesalp and right on our trail) and climbed the saddle Sefinenfurgge to get to Mürren for the evening. We found Hotel Regina in Murren just as the rain was coming in over the west pass of mountains.

Ah, but lets start at the beginning of our day.

The cow bells stopped ringing about 3am. I can still feel our foamy bed covered in a picky warm sheet. Welcome to real Switzerland, where the Alps are your neighbors. We woke up very early for the first week of our honeymoon, adjusting to the time. Outside of our warm room the hallway was cold. Breakfast downstairs; the coffee, the sweet muesli in milk, toast and jam was good and filling before we prepared for a hike that was to compare in difficulty to Mt. St. Helen, the one that we did last year. ‘Watch your footing,’ Bob from Bend said. I made sure the 64oz of water in my backsack was centered. We said goodbye after potted pictures and started our journey.

This is a look back to Griesalp once we began to climb the saddle.

Hiking from Griesalp to Murren over the saddle, ‘Sefinenfurgge’ took approximately 8 hours. We began about 9 and arrived before 5 in Murren, just in time for the rain showers -with a beer stop for about 45 minutes mid way.  I give this hike ‘The Best Hike in the World Award.’…160lb woman climbs Die Alpen!

I will describe it.

We began at Neufrenhaus, two miles outside of Griesalp, which is on the Via Alpina hiking trail. We walked toward a cork in the landscape -a circular part of land that looked like it’s raised portion had popped up out of the earth. From our chalet it took forty minutes to get to. This hike, which took us into the next town of Steinbergh began on a paved road, past alpacas (buy Alpaca wool signs said!), which led to a gravel drive, then terminated in a suisse country house. There was a blonde 3 1/2 year old who was outside playing in the sawdust pile in his goloshes -we told him hallo. At the house there was a latched gate that we assumed to be the way of the trail. Later confirmed by the white, red, white, stripping painted on a rock to show us we were on the trail, going in the proper direction. As the grass wore out, we crossed heather and pebbled streams. There were black friendly sheep crossing too. Sheep had climbed up very steep mountain sides that amazed us. Then we came to black shale, some fist-sized black rock, large bolders on switch back trails which eventually lead us to a barren -oil spill landscape. The sky was clean, the air crisp, and we were in a cold sweat.

You could see small people way above and I was leery of actually seeing the check-marked saddle because on other hikes, where mountains are involved, there are many false peaks. Outside of the black landscape we were hiking through, we came closer to the rigid order of mountain tops we could see from our chalet porch the day before. They were much wider, flatter, and snowier when seen at a closer vantage point. They were beautiful and stark on this side of the saddle. The sun reflected directly off the shiny back ground and warmed us plenty.

We saw wooden steps, 1-2 hundred of them that were to bring us to our passage into the second half of our hike down.

(This photo looks back at where we were coming from.)

We walked hand in hand up to the ridge and saw the most beautiful world ~ three sister peaks of Eiger, Munch, and Jungfrau faced us. A spine of land -Poganggen ran just down from where we sat into the alpine view. To the left our ridge rose above us and circled back into a cove -our view, on top of which a 007 scene was filmed in a Bond get-away scene. There was a restaurant built up there somehow.

Surprisingly, there were a lot of people up there. Many people we crossed paths with on our way down were from the U.S. west coast, D.C. people… We earned our lunch and view, so enjoyed sitting for a while on the saddle. At that point you realize that it’s cold, when you have stopped moving and your sweaty shirt isn’t insulating against the wind anymore. It is amazing to think we were sitting at a desk only four days ago, in a world that is six hours younger than we are, as we are standing in the Switzerland alps now.

We had to move again, so started down the steep dark rocky side, going east. We walked down in the grass, the trail sunken into the ground, a soft mud path. There were beautiful small flowers, the sun, the underside of a small looking hill from one angle became grand as we steeped closer into the panoramic.

Our breath being taken away at the size of the rock, we could see the start of a gorge we’d be spending the night on the cliff of – in Murren. Slowly the mighty and high alps gave way to less dramatic peaks, and became over sized stalagmite hills, pronounced from the ground in even orders, working their magnificence down from the grey alpine rock, the black faces of huge mountains, and then snow-capped peaks. Something that looked so close -a town, a mountain, a rock, was so far.. maybe 1 1/2 hours of walking sometimes.

Can you see the check marked place which is the saddle passage?

As our path veered and our easy hike traveled down, east and north, we came to see the Rock-Stock-Hut.. or at least we think that’s how you pronounced it. Say it at least two times… it’s fun. Our bodies were tired, but this beer bungalow was a day hike for people staying in Murren or Gimmewald. Two hours from each we thought. We had a self-serve brew out in the picnic table area and stripped down to a few layers for the remainder of our decent into Murren.

As we could see Murren in sight, we could also see a storm. Black clouds in the west, over the ridge we were now on the other side of. We hurried down the face in Brindli -this rock, crooked and cragged hill with a trail you couldn’t even tell was there, except for what was five to ten feet ahead of your step.

This is a view of Brindli, where we just came down the hill.

This really was hard on my knees, you had to bend down as far as you could, reach the next worn earth path and do that again in about five steps in the opposite direction. We were hurrying because we weren’t familiar with mountain fog or the Swiss mountain storms. We stopped after crossing through a farm’s front yard just below some high pines. There was a wooden bench there where we pulled out our rain covers. Thankfully, because nor arrival into Murren was a rainy one.

Murren from about an hour and a half away.

The small mountain town had streets that were pretty desolate! Hotel Regina looked like an old school-house. It had a tall brown face that could have been a bell tower -large open rooms on the bottom floor and had a large central stair with terrazzo poured floors. It was empty, echoing but the curly blonde girl at the desk was so sweet. She suggested a close place for dinner. We were wet and staving, but showered in a tiny square room and settled in our peach colored, high ceilinged room before venturing out again into the rain.  My legs were tired and we were both sleepy. We carried with us our language translation book and found everyone in this swiss town spoke English. We had our first taste of Rosti, a swiss potato hash brown smothered in cheese with an occational veggie atop for kicks.

(Not actually my dinner.. but pretty close)

The wooden chairs were carved and hard. The restaurant was empty. We were able to witness a four-some coming in.. one woman plunging to the back of the restaurant to where we sat saying ‘I don’t think this is it.’ She asked our waitress ‘Is this a Rick Steves restaurant?’ and our confused waitress didn’t know ow to respond and this was when Phil and I began to understand the Rick Steves phenomenon.  Everyone in Italy is carrying  a Rick Steves book! But, when they determined this restaurant was not recommended by him, the left.. us in peace.

It was dark with fog outside and the rain was cold. We bought post cards and admired the 3D topographic terrain map of the Alps on the wall of the restaurant before walking out to town in the rain. We’d seen the hotel on the edge of town when we were walking into Murren. We guessed this place was amazing through the winter months, more full of people. Maybe hiking season had passed too, but it was great for us.

Here is some of what I wrote that night in my journal…  I am so glad we walked from Griesalp to Murren and not the other direction. It was difficult going up but I thought it could have been much worse, especially with a 30lb pack.  It has been the best ten miles in the world.

Below I show a photo rendition of where we hiked in the Alps. Tomorrow we will go down to Gimmewald from Murren and walk into the gorge.

 

 

 

Categories
Book Review Environmental Poetry

On account of Thoreau; Walden

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I have noticed that Walden, by Henry D. Thoreau is frequently referenced in news media. Architectural Record has mentioned the book at least three times in different issues through out the last year (Robert Ivy, Cabin in the Woods, and a recent Record Homes issue), ‘The Happiness Project’ by Gretchen Rubin mentions it and I’ve read reference to Thoreau’s time in the woods in House Beautiful Magazine too. In different accounts of finding your own spirit, the humbleness in building one’s own house, and in the action of filling out the creases, finding your own character, Walden represents an acute account of the life that surrounded Thoreau while in the forest.

He writes, ‘The earth is not a mere fragment of dead history… -not a fossil earth, but a living earth; compared with whose great central life all animal and vegetable life is merely parasitic.’ ‘You may melt your metals and cast them into the most beautiful moulds you can; they will never excite me like the forms which this molten earth flows out into.’ (From the chapter Spring p334-335 in the Edition by Yale Press 2004.)

For two years, two months, and two days, time did not matter. What did was instinct. Thoreau moved to the forest around Walden Pond July of 1845. Having built his home that spring, March 1845, at the age of 27. He farmed beans, made loaves of bread, bathed in Walden, and perceived life in the forest. He built a chimney before winter. He watched the lake and measured the boundaries. Discovered ice and placid waters for looking to the bottom. He marveled at the colors of fish, at perfect round stone temples at the bottom of Walden lake and witnessed a fearless battle of the red ant versus the black ant nation. He spoke heroically of their manners and watched the black ant win (all other red ants around him had died), and then leave without antennas and with crippled legs.

165 years later his accounts of society and tradition are still pertinent if not more so complicated and diffused. He moved to the forest to ‘transact some private business with the fewest obstacles.’

Thoreau’s book begins with the chapter titled Economy. He describes philosophy, luxury, and the toll of ownership. ‘I see young men, my towns men, whose misfortune it is to have inherited farms, houses, barns, cattle and farming tools; for these are more easily acquired than got rid of.’ p3 ‘What is the nature of luxury which innervades and destroys nations? p14

I began to read Walden during the travels of a month-long honeymoon. This is what I wrote upon reading the first few pages. It is here that I am seven days into spending time as I wish. Fulfilling my days with challenging hikes, reading and writing to reflect. Drawing and learning to color. Challenging myself to keep track of the mountains and relate them in drawings. My husband draws the landscape. We eat and drink often. Time doesn’t matter. We are aware of our few belongings and are taking better care of them and one another. I think I own too much at home to myself to take care, and do not work as apart of my community or neighborhood to feel kinship or pride to stand together.

What society celebrates as success is a form of acquiring methods to bind your freedom. When you own land, a house, manage a family and animals, crops, or when you become a vice president, receive position on an authority board, -people, buildings and organizations depend on your opinion and presence. Late in Thoreau’s book he describes a man being appointed to town duty, -how he may not take vacation… because of his commitment.

I wrote a poem about success while reading the book.

Success

Is success in your picture

the recognition of your face?

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Is it all you accomplish in your week,

do you remember?

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Is it the parties, champagne

and fine toasts?

Is success quiet or loud?

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Is success praise and good doing?

Is it alone or together?

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Can you define it with

metals, trophies, or certificates?

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Is it a glitter ball signifying

the turn of a new year?

Is it what we wear

to define our character?

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Is it found in hard formulas

or in the last line of poetry?

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Is it the wrinkles on a face

or the exhaustion in your voice?

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Is it a word at all that can be defined to

so specifically a cause,

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a word to describe

survival or wealth?

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Does happiness have a place

within its parameters?

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Do you remember what

you are chasing, who

you are and where you

are going?

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Has success been a

purpose for going?

A path and direction

for finding yourself?

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Thoreau writes

‘The life which men praise and regard as successful is but one kind. Why should we exaggerate any one kind at the expense of others?

If I were to define my purpose under the influence of Thoreau I would say that the point of life is to keep up ourselves without running debt and reach for the heavens.

Thoreau writes that he went to the forest to ‘transact some private business with the fewest obstacles.’ The fewest expectations, the fewest interruptions, -a living forest and lake that ask nothing of you, -just that you live with them. In the chapter Pond In The Winter (p314-315) Thoreau describes the laws to which he found he was part of in the forest. ‘If we knew all the laws of Nature, we should need only one fact, or the description of one actual phenomenon, to infer all the particular results at that point. Now we know only a few laws, and our result is vitiated, not, of course, by any confusion or irregularity in Nature, but by our ignorance of essential elements in the calculation. Our notions of law and harmony are commonly confined to those instances which we detect; but the harmony which results from a far greater number of seemingly conflicting ,but really concurring, laws, which we have not detected, is still more wonderful. The particular laws are as our points of view, as, to the traveller, a mountain outline varies with every stop, and it has an infinite number of profiles, though absolutely but one form. Even when cleft or bored through it is not comprehended in its entireness.’

Thoreau describes society. p147 ‘Society is commonly too cheap. We must meet at very short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for each other. We meet at three meals a day and give each other a new taste of that old musty cheese that we are.’ (That made me laugh.) We have had to agree on a certain set of rules, called etiquette and politeness, to make this frequent meeting tolerable and that we need not come to open war.’ ‘Certainly less frequency would suffice for all important and hearty communications.’

‘What sort of space is that which separates a man from his fellows and makes him solitary? I have found that no exertions of the legs can bring two minds much nearer to one another.’ p144

(I think this is comical too.)

‘It is a ridiculous demand which England and America make, that you shall speak so that they can understand you. Neither men nor toad-stools grow so… As if there were safety in stupidity alone… The words that express our faith and piety are not definite; yet they are significant and fragrant like frankincense to superior natures. Why level downward to our dullest perception always, and praise that as common sense? The commonest sense is the sense of men asleep, which they express by snoring.’ p352-353 He asks men to ‘soar but a little higher in our intellectual flights than the columns daily in the newspaper.’ p115

Silence plays a large role in securing the availability of Thoreau’s thoughts. He would spend his day… ‘After hoeing or perhaps reading and writing in the forenoon, I usually bathed again in the pond, swimming across one of its cover for a stint and washed the dust of labor from my person, or smoothed out the last wrinkle that study had made, and for the afternoon was absolutely free.’ p182

Our book club discussed what the modern life takes away. One member talked about the dross, the useless information the average person wastes their time knowing. We entertain ourselves with thinking this useless information is important, and it takes up all of our time. TV.

I began to compare silence and expectations. Thoreau’s phrase ‘I came to the forest to transact some private business with the fewest obstacles.’ made more and more sense to me as I continued reading. It was odd that this reading coincided with my own searching for a way to unplan my life -in order to take in the moment and free my thought. The rules, and regulation, fees and traditions, social expectations strip away the free thought -the trueness of acting in the moment -so I’m trying not to make commitments, as a commitment to my happiness and well-being.

He speaks of being alone. p 146 ‘I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company , even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating.  We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our own chambers.’ He says this I think to explain the reason he should live alone in the forest, without the expectancies of people.

Here is what Thoreau has to say of weaving a basket, so as to avoid the necessity to which the basket has been made for disheartening purposes. p 19 ‘The poor Indian man can weave a basket and thought it be the rich man’s duty to buy one’… Thoreau weaved one and studied avoiding the necessity to sell one. He talks of trade. p75 How it seems he would commonly do, but would then be expected to… so therefore was like business.. ‘to stay away from if at all possible for fear it may consume all of your time.’ He describes depending on money or work to trade. p56, (On earning wage to travel, or to travel by getting there by your own two feet.) ‘On living somewhere to earn a wage, so that you may move and live the life of a poet… at what point did we decide to separate the earning a living from living -why not marry these two? If you being down the path of earning life and it becomes complex and entangled… you can’t get out from under the earing because you’d built your life on top of it. It is easier not to begin earning a lot and enjoy the benefits of living like that.’

Which makes me think of earning your experiences. ‘The student whose cures his courted leisure and retirement by systematically shirking any labor necessary to man obtains but an ignoble and unprofitable leisure, defrauding himself of the experience which alone can make leisure profitable.’ p53 (Like climbing a mountain, and exhausting yourself, to see the high view!)

Our book club group and Thoreau discussed Higher Education under these terms of learning your experiences and I repeated a discussion between my husband and I about the necessity / requirement of higher education for our children… at the expense of it. It is like I took 5 years off to think and learn around others, to draw, read, and write -to find myself and what I like, what I am like. I was at that time spending borrowed money that I then had to get a job (that required my purchased diploma) to pay off over the next ten years post graduation. Perhaps it was worth thousands to learn how to learn. My college education was hands off, allowed me to travel Europe for three and a half months, taught me to be more self motivating as it came to my work, and taught me that I wasn’t the best. There was a lot of competition between very different people. There were so many people, you had to find yourself to be comfortable, and confident. After graduation, my profession urges other ways for me to spend money. Architects have at least two professional organizations to join. The AIA status requires that one takes exams to earn the credentials of the three letters after your signature. There is a yearly requirement to keep up this registration with continuing education. Why should we ever stop learning? I do not disagree with that. Neither does Thoreau. Why stop learning when we are children? Why stop learning when learning becomes a fascinating endeavor that we can act on as adults?  Time should be cut out for learning, not only earning, once we get to work as our full time employment. I’ve sometimes debated the complexity of such a system that demands more and more time and money to organize and upkeep the requirements, to the need for it myself. The more I make the more I owe. The more responsibility, the more insurance I need. The more I reach the more paperwork I need to order. I like how things are currently, I understand the general upkeep I need to manage and have under control. What new way is there of growing within this? I don’t know what I’ll suggest for my children as they graduate High School.

In Economy Thoreau discusses the purchase of one’s home. p 23 He makes an analogy for spending more than half our life paying for our home. The cost of your house requires that you spend between 15 – 30 years to work to pay for it. I am still wondering what it is worth? Can you create a house for yourself, build it with your own hands so to cost less money? Will your effort make your home more worthy than the exchange of money would have to ask someone else to build it for you?

Is it more about the requirement that you continue paying for it until it is bought, or that it would be the same as renting.. the same money spent to hold yourself under shelter with nothing to show for it after the many years of having done so. Because we must be sheltered… or is the cost of rent or mortgage out of scale with what shelter should cost us? It is a basic human privilege. Think about what we weight against one another; promised time that will turn into money in exchange for our shelter. Think about what you need compared to what Thoreau says about someone rich. p23 ‘or shall we say richer, who could do with less.’

So, what could be the purpose of his free time? To write and to think. I enjoy his observations. p88, On what you get out of a farm…’I have frequently seen a poet withdraw, having enjoyed the most valuable part of a farm, while the crusty farmer supposed that he had got a few wild apples only. Why, the owner does not know it for many years when a poet has put his farm in rhyme, the most admirable kind of invisible fence, has fairly impounded it, milked it, skimmed it, and got all th cream, and left the farmer only the skimmed milk.’ p215, On pity the farmer…’who loves not the beauty of his fruits, whose fruits are not ripe for him till they are turned into dollars.’

Time away meant time to be natural, adhere to the natural rules which man may find in the forest. Living in the forest allowed him ‘To be truly awake -those first few moments of morning -to which no mechanical means should awaken us.’ p 96

In the chapter Sounds he describes ‘My days were not days of the week, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, nor were they minced into hour and fretted by the ticking of the clock.’ p120

This time for each of us can be spent reflecting and fulfilling our thought and innate gestures. ‘Soar but a little higher in our intellectual flights than the columns daily in the newspaper.’ p115 ‘True wisdom to read with the intensity in which it took to write.’ p106

‘Follow your genius close enough and it will not fail to show you a fresh prospect every hour… when my floor was dirty I rose early.. it was pleasant to see my whole house hold effects out on the grass.. they seemed glad to get out themselves… It was worth the while to see the sun shine on these things and hear the free wind blow on them; so much more interesting most familiar objects look out of doors than in the house.’ p121

On encountering people more naturally, on communication with an old man, an excellent fisherman, ‘Our intercourse was thus altogether one of unbroken harmony, far more pleasing to remember than if it had been carried on by speech.’ p190

Thoreau had time to make these observations and give them to us, his readers. ‘I have been surprised to detect.. a shelf like path in the steep hillside.. worn by the feet of aboriginal hunters…This is particularly distinct to one standing on the middle of the pond in winter, just after a light snow has fallen, appearing as a clear undulating white line, unobstructed by weeds and twigs.’  p197

‘Circular heaps, Indian mounds of rock that floated to the bottom… These lend a pleasing mystery to the bottom.’  p202

‘Walden is a perfect forest mirror in which all impurity presented to it sinks, swept and dusted by the suns hazy brush…’ p206

Our time is free, but quickly gobbled up. Why not enjoy the poetry that crosses your doorway… why does it seem that the simple pleasures go unappreciated, or not noticed at all… can we not believe in such free gifts?

On White and Walden Pond ‘If they were…small enough to be clutched, they would be, carried off by slaves and like precious stones.. but being liquid, and ample, and secured to us and our successors forever, we disregard them, and run after the diamond of Kohinoor.’ ‘Talk of heaven! ye disgrace the earth.’ p218

On being hungry and enjoying food… ‘Who has not sometimes derived an inexpressible satisfaction from his food in which appetite had no share?’ p237

‘You only need sit still long enough in some attractive spot in the woods that all its inhabitants may exhibit themselves to you by turns.’ p249

Or, the loon games Thoreau played across Walden.

In the chapter House Warming ‘…maples turned scarlet… many a tale their color told…Each morning the manager of this gallery substituted some new picture, distinguished by more brilliant or harmonious coloring, for the old upon the walls.’ p261

‘I was waked by the cracking of the ground by the frost…in the morning would find a crack in the earth a quarter of a mile long and a third of an inch wide.’ p296

Of the placid lake, ‘peering into it for a winter drink… it closes its eyelids and becomes dormant for three months or more… Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.’ p307

‘I meet the servant of the Bramin, come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges. With favoring winds it is wafted past the site of the fabulous islands of Atlantis an the Hesperides, makes the periplus of Hanno, and , floating by Ternate and Tidore and the mouth of the Persian Gulf, melts in the tropic gales of the Indian seas, and is landed in ports of which Alexander only heard the names.’ p322

Then he wondered about measuring characters, set to mountains. ‘I laid a rule on the map lengthwise and then breadth wise, and found, to my surprise, that the line of the greatest length intersected the line of the greatest breadth exactly at the point of greatest depth… Is not this the rule also for the height of mountains, regarded as the opposite of valleys?’

‘If we knew all the laws of Nature, we should need only one fact, or the description of one actual phenomenon, to infer all the particular results at that point. Now we know only a few laws, and our result is vitiated, not, of course, by any confusion or irregularity in Nature, but by our ignorance of essential elements in the calculation. Our notions of law and harmony are commonly confined to those instances which we detect; but the harmony to which results from a far greater number of seemingly conflicting, but really concurring, laws, which we have not detected, is still more wonderful. The particular laws are as our points of view, as, to the traveller, a mountain outline varies with every step, and it has an infinite number of profiles, though absolutely but one form. Even when cleft or bored through it is not comprehended in its entireness.

What I have observed of the pond is no less true in ethics. It is the law of average. Such a rule of the two diameters not only guides us toward the sun in the system and the heard in the man, but draw lines through the length and breadth of the aggregate of a man’s particular daily behaviours and waves of life into his coves and inlets, and where they intersect will be the height or depth of his character.’ p313-315

‘The old man, who had been a close observer with Nature -told me, and I was surprised to hear him express wonder at any of Nature’s operations for I thought that there were no secretes between them.’ p328

‘Few phenomena gave me more delight than to observe the forms which thawing sand and clay assume in flowing down the sides of a deep cut on the railroad through which I passed on my way to the village, a phenomenon not very common on so large a scale, though the number of freshly exposed banks of the right material must have been greatly multiplied since railroads were invented. The material was sand of every degree of fineness and of various rich colors, commonly mixed with a little clay. When the frost comes out in the spring, and even in a thawing day in the winter, the sand begins to flow down the slopes like lava, sometimes bursting out through the snow and overflowing it where no sand was to be seen before. Innumerable little streams overlap and interlace one with another, exhibiting a sort of hybrid product, which obeys half way the law of currents, and half way that of vegetation. As it flows it takes the forms of sappy leaves or vines, making heaps of pulpy sprays a foot or more in depth, and resembling, as you look down on them, the laciniated lobed and imbricated thalluses of some lichens; or you are reminded of coral, of leopards’ paws or birds’ feet, of brains or lungs or bowels, and excrements of all kinds. It is a truly grotesque vegetation, whose forms and color we see imitated in bronze, a sort of architectural foliage more ancient and typical than acanthus, chicory, ivy, vine, or any vegetable leaves; destined perhaps, under some circumstances, to become a puzzle to future geologists…’ p 330 – 331  ‘Man…a mass of thawing clay.’ p 333

‘It was pleasant to compare the first tender signs of the infant year just peeping forth with the stately beauty of the withered vegetation which had withstood the winter.’ From the chapter Spring (my favorite.) p 335

Natures rules play a part in my understanding of what I think I know. Like the mountain at every step, the form is the same, but I see a different character around every bend. I am but a small imbecile beside this great rock of earth. How the rules of nature influenced Thoreau after his time at Walden can be found laced throughout his later work, and in how he chose to live after being alone in the forest. Our experiences shape us, what we read and think, discuss and try. Thoreau says that traveling should influence your character, and after a month abroad, I am making the effort to settle in with what I have learned. (p 348, 359, 347, respectively below)

‘Travel your thought.’

‘Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.’

‘The universe is wider than our views of it.’

.

This book was the October Selection for Oglebay Institute’s Environmental Book Club held at the Schrader Center every third Thursday of the month at 7pm.

Then, I Wiki’d Thoreau

Born July 1817

He was also deeply interested in the idea of survival in the face of hostile elements, historical change, and natural decay; at the same time imploring one to abandon waste and illusion in order to discover life’s true essential needs.

Age 16-19 Thoreau studied at Harvard University between 1833 and 1837.

After he graduated in 1837, he and his brother John then opened a grammar school in Concord, MA in 1838 called Concord Academy.

He met Ralph Waldo Emerson. Emerson took a paternal and at times patronizing interest in Thoreau, advising the young man and introducing him to a circle of local writers and thinkers, including Ellery Channing, Margaret Fuller, Bronson Alcott, and Nathaniel Hawthorne and his son Julian Hawthorne, who was a boy at the time.

Age 23 On April 18, 1841, Thoreau moved into the Emerson house. There, from 1841–1844, he served as the children’s tutor, editorial assistant, and repair man/gardener.

Thoreau returned to Concord and worked in his family’s pencil factory, which he continued to do for most of his adult life.

Age 27 – 28 In March 1845, Ellery Channing told Thoreau, “Go out upon that, build yourself a hut, & there begin the grand process of devouring yourself alive. I see no other alternative, no other hope for you.” Two months later, Thoreau embarked on a two-year experiment in simple living on July 4, 1845, when he moved to a small, self-built house on land owned by Emerson in a second-growth forest around the shores of Walden Pond.

Age 30 Thoreau left Walden Pond on September 6, 1847. At Emerson’s request, he moved immediately into the Emerson house to help Lidian manage the household while her husband was on an extended trip to Europe. Over several years, he worked to pay off his debts and also continuously revised his manuscript for what, in 1854, he would publish as Walden, or Life in the Woods,  recounting the two years, two months, and two days he had spent at Walden Pond. The book compresses that time into a single calendar year, using the passage of four seasons to symbolize human development.

Age 31 – 32 In January and February 1848, he delivered lectures on “The Rights and Duties of the Individual in relation to Government” explaining his tax resistance at the Concord Lyceum. Thoreau revised the lecture into an essay entitled Resistance to Civil Government (also known as Civil Disobedience). In May 1849 it was published by Elizabeth Peabody in the Aesthetic Papers.

At Walden Pond, he completed a first draft of A week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, an elegy to his brother, John, that described their 1839 trip to the White Mountains. Thoreau did not find a publisher for this book and instead printed 1,000 copies at his own expense, though fewer than 300 were sold. Thoreau self-published on the advice of Emerson, using Emerson’s own publisher, Munroe, who did little to publicize the book. Its failure put Thoreau into debt that took years to pay off, and Emerson’s flawed advice caused a schism between the friends that never entirely healed.

Age 44 Dies May 1862

Categories
Travel

Zurich to Griesalp

Day 2

To be more aware may be to attend your only thoughts to the presence… not to planning too far into the future. That is what I am trying to practice now.

We left early in the morning to find Griesalp Switzerland from Zurich and found ourselves by way of a very efficient transportation system, to our Friendship house (Neu Freund Haus in Griesalp Switzerland) by early afternoon.

But, back to the first morning we woke up in Europe. I woke up early to the sounds of a piazza three stories down. I sat in a chair wrapped in the down blanket that came with my bed for about an hour before jumping back in bed to sleep more.  Waking up to find we had overslept wasn’t a problem.  Jumping the train at 11am and arriving to our chalet front porch by two wasn’t bad. On our way there, our first stop to see the Alps first-hand was in Thurn. Thurnsee, it’s liquid gem color set a beautiful table to the mountains, fresh red flowers, a chapel steeple, farming terraces and the iconic swiss chalet (with stained wooden horizontal siding, and low over hanging eaves on thin A-frame houses.)

From here we boarded a bus with out-door looking German-speaking folk. Hiking poles were apart of the accessory. Even with extreme hiking (9-10 hours of walking) I realized people dressed the way they wanted to look. I’ve seen hard-core looking, merril kicking chicks with their thick shirts and dirty poles and have thought I’d never be able to keep up -but really I find a hiking shoe of any kind is suffice and if you want to see the Alps in your Umbros or Long Johns, well the go for it! It really doesn’t matter. Phil and I climbed Mt. St. Helen in  Oregon last summer in New Balances and without poles. (Though my knees really would have appreciated them!) Phil and I ranked our hikes along our trip -Mt. St. Helen by far, for me, being the most difficult. More on our hike and rankings to come.

We took a bus up supposedly one of the steepest bus routes in Switzerland. The road was thin. It looked like the way we’d found Zumpthor’s chapel in  the field many years ago.

(This was during a study abroad program I took through Virginia Tech in 2002 and also was my first glimpse of the Alps.)

At one point during our bus ride we had to pause to let the cow traffic by. We rounded through the rocks without a scratch and with a bus full of laughter, though neither Phil or I could understand any commentary. We arrived in the town square of Griesalp and it was different from I had expecting. Instead of the stand alone hotel/restaurant there were three chalet buildings that had central picnic table areas where most people were eating their kabob sandwiches. The fourth chalet being built afforded me the opportunity to look at it’s construction. Concrete slabs that extended over walls had 2″ thick insulation board imbedded in it as if it were apart of the form work, then left. Town was quiet. Where was the Neufrienhaus?

The nice thing about entering any Switzerland city was that to find your hotel or chalet you can simply find and read the very present direction signs that locate your place of rest with mileage and direction. We never had trouble finding any place that we had booked. However, booking wasn’t really necessary considering that traveling in September – October in Switzerland and Italy isn’t very popular for the rest of the world like it is during the summer time.

We crossed a low river, the water was white, cream, grey; pristine mountain water.

Here is what I wrote with this in view:

At our chalet we sit as high as West Virginia’s High point -Spruce Knob. The children yell in high-pitched German. There is a vertical forest of Spruce. Steep fields with one road pass and many more hotels and chalets in Griesalp than expected. Ours, over the bridge, next to the house under the road, turns from where our bus left off. Much quieter.

(This is where we stayed.)

The Alpen, grey ash falls from the glacier. Wind carved rock. Flat stump hills in the foreground, cow bells in the distant sounds. Happy husband with a light lager, drawing. Black face of rock, popped through the firm landscape like a bottle cork from the lips of champagne. The snow faces of the highest alps have direct triangular orders. They climb stacked behind one another in a certain order until they break off at the sky. Green land exists on the top of a wine cork.

(Yes, that is a house on this hill)

The Suisse positive flag is perched on the slate roof. We left the doll house facades and ceramic tile roofs in Zurich. People are older here, having tall plates of ice cream and cream whipped. Streams in the places where mountains touch glisten and the east faces cast dark cloud shadows. But I am drawing in the sun.

We took a walk before dinner. Phil thinks it is called the Witches Calderon. It took us about an hour to make the loop. We heard the harmony of cow bells and joined their light mood. The sun set on rock I couldn’t take in with my whole being. The mass of the mountain was so large it stood on tip-toes and tilted into me with such great force, that I had to look away.

Dinner was served buffet style and we met Bob from Bend who joined us to dine. We ate steaming potatoes, cheese (of course.. and would eat lots of cheese from this moment forward) and a vegetable I’m sure. More than the houses’ guests were gathered on the porch and at some point these 30-something-year-olds took their seat at the table indoors. Perhaps they were here for the weekend, it was a Friday night. Maybe they grew up around the mountains and missed their weight and so had returned. I don’t know but they were still there in the morning when we went to breakfast. We changed out our shoes for house slippers once inside. We brought a head lamp for light -for there wasn’t any electricity. Our room was tiny but we had fresh flowers at our window. We closed the shutters and figured out the locking latch. We slept together on the top bunk of our full-sized bunk beds. Phil wrote post cards and I read Walden.

How did we hear about this Alpine Hike? Backpacker Magazine. On Day 3 you can see a very similar photo I took of Phil to the one I see on that magazine webpage!

 

Categories
Travel

I want to be more aware.

I want to be more aware. To move forward with this I am proposing to ONLY concentrate on one thing at a time. After a month abroad without an internet / phone attachment to myself, I realize how often I question something and then go directly to looking it up. What a blessing that my questions can be instantly answered! So different from finding time in the next day to go to the library and look through the encyclopedia. (The library culture has really had to change since, right?!)

As a result of wandering, then, directly looking, I see a globalized impact on Italy and her cities. I wonder about myself and the constant distraction this availability provides as I am working on a project or concentrating on daily work -the availability is a distraction. As is, being available.

Along our trip the large plans were taken care of, such as what city we’d be visiting and where we’d be sleeping. But, the day to day time was very loose. So, we judged what was next by the prior ten minutes, and continued on for a month in that way. What needed to be done, or what we desired to do, grew out from the last thing that attended us. We didn’t have to remember to do anything, but did something as it came along.

To be more aware of my trip i am going to write and remember it day by day and give myself the time to be thorough.

Zurich, CH .   Day 1

Wandering through the streets of Zurich I see men in suits, bicycle traffic moving along with the street, city rail trains stopping for pedestrians. Zurich was founded for a reason I cannot find beyond that it was enjoyed by lake dwellers. Zurich’s central location probably accounts for one of the reasons it is now the largest city in Switzerland. Now, financial institutions inhabit the city, and on a Friday afternoon bankers and young families are out for a long lunch.

There is the Limmat River cutting through the city, the old town Zurich to the west of it. The river leads to the Zurichsee, the Sea, and a view of Die Alpen. The old city of thin passageways and no cars, people walking between the key maker signs, jewelery shops and sweater stores. One low entrance has green silk curtains to the inside of the door so that upon entering you could close off the door to a window.

Phil climbs the Grossmunster church’s wobbly tower steps while I fall asleep in a back pew. An orchestra is rehearsing in these stone walls, their sound so awake and alive as I drift off.

We stop by the lake. The night concludes in a pink sky, school bands play their trumpets in piazzas around the city. We climb the stepped ten feet wide streets between five-story buildings in the old town to listen and clap with the crowd on the church steps.  We have an Italian dinner by the river, just sit down to be served instead of asking for a table.  The waiters have these compact computers for taking our order with, then someone else bring our drinks out… very efficient. I see a sweater I’d like to get for a friend on our walk home (our mobile home of not more than a bed, a shower and one another for the next month) and think these mountain people know how to dress.  Ladies in at least three layers; tight pants, leggings under dresses with sweaters, jackets and scarves hanging off them as they walk by in heels. Zurich is clean and cool, church bells ring through out the next morning but no one is awake before nine.

Categories
Architecture

Architecture in the Heart of America

Architecture Record’s recent article Hot in Cleveland explains how the heart of the U.S. is still beating.

 

Also, kudos to Kelly Minner who now writes for Arch Daily! Check her out at

ArchDaily.com