Much Maligned

I needed to relax, otherwise I’d arrive in Oregon an exhausted mess. I had no intention of adding to the crisis. There’s already enough pain. I needed to get Peggy. So I paced myself and tried to nurture my mind and soul. It’s always me that goes on these “there’s trouble in the family” trips. I’ve learned how to manage my mental resources. Stopping to be creative is one of my most effective tools.



I’d noticed a break in the trees on either side of the road. Two lakes came together, the waters of both mingling together under a small bridge. Slowly I made my way down the dirt roadway seeking signs of wildlife. I’d seen a variety of species earlier so I knew there was a wide variety of waterfowl in this wildlife refuge.

What I didn’t expect were these double-crested cormorants. I do not believe I could have picked a better “avain metaphor” to fold into this tale of “high adventure” to save an unknown soul from out of control wildfires, all during a major pandemic, and just before a potential civil war begins.



Why so? Well, these particular birds are a controversial upper midwest native. They are traditionally seen as “undesirable” and as competition for fishing resources used in human consumption. Their range of nesting colonies have been exterminated across the north. People would kill these ungainly looking, dark feathered large birds that look to be a cross between a goose and crow in a variety of creative manor. One that stands out to me are the small fleets of boats full of folks firing silenced “22s” into the nesting sites.

A number of recent scientific studies has proven that they actually feed on smaller fish that compete with the fry of “desirable”fish and may indeed benefit the fishing industry more than harm it. But emotion still rules over scientific facts. I was very lucky to stumble into one of the few remaining sanctuaries these unfairly maligned birds enjoy.

A near complete expatriation of an entire species driven by emotions and traditions and not facts.



I chuckled to myself darkly as I got back into my Jeep to go get Peggy and bring her home.

#GottaGetPeggy #OIIIIIIIO #JourneyToTheWest

A Prairie Wetland Refuge

I’d passed through Iowa like a great blue comet. My mostly straight, white tail of limestone dust trailing out behind my jeep as I rode up and down gently sloped gravel roads. I began engaging the various breathing, meditation techniques taught me by some unique practitioners I’ve had the fortune to learn from. My mind calmed as my tires ground out rhythm, a song composed of the crushed dust of long dead oceans fanned out as I passed over the land. I was in the same sort of “zone” I get into when really into a gym routine or trail run. It was to be a state of mind I'd keep for nearly the entire trip once I’d crossed the Mississippi.

Pandemic? Check. Wildfires burning out of control? Check. Going to Portland during major political and civil upheaval? Check A divided Nation that could break into civil war? Check. Unknown family member who could be “ANYTHING?” Check. Getting her home alive when a cough could kill her and I’m already driving in smoke? Check. The responsibility of taking on another elder? Check. Concern over my preteen daughter when so many kids seem to be contemplating suicide and knowing your own issues aren’t helping ANYONE?! CHECK.

Check. Check. Check… the backdrop of this journey to the west couldn’t be more extreme for me spiritually, emotionally, or mentally. Or could it? By this point I fully expected Yellowstone to erupt in volcanic fury as soon as I passed the Rockies. At the time of this writing it hasn’t but it’s early yet and the story’s not over…

I still had to get Peggy. I needed to rest and gather my strength so I randomly turned aside and found myself in a wildlife sanctuary in Minnesota. Of course it was just what I needed.

#GottaGetPeggy #OIIIIIIIO #JourneyToTheWest

Limes Springs, Iowa

Having no real knowledge of Peggy’s medical condition, other than “Coughing = Death,” I tried to keep to myself so as not to catch the Covid. For months now I’ve been very removed from mankind. Kicking around tiny patches of natural prairies and savannas as I struggle to keep my sanity in this ever more crazily unfolding world. Islands of native soil either tiny, roughly terrained remnants or restored patches of plowed or grazed land.

My goal was to make it all the way to Peggy with as little risk of Covid exposure as possible. I wasn’t going to kill anyone. Especially the woman I was being asked to go save.

So to that end I found hidden places to stretch my legs. I’d sometimes take photos and do my martial arts warmups. I had a long way to go and gravel roads make for slow progress. I felt like a bootlegger trying as I made my way undetected to go get Peggy and bring her home.

**Note how harsh the lighting is from the very high layer of smoke particles filtering out the sun’s full spectrum of colors. It’s not dissimilar to my own internal, smoke filled skies.**

#GottaGetPeggy #OIIIIIIIO #JourneyToTheWest

Island 172

When I had set out in the morning I’d hoped to see at least one eagle before leaving Wisconsin. I have a certain “quirk” wherein I believe their appearance during certain of my life events gives me “Luck.” For insurance the very moment a small town Mayor declared my wife and I officially married two of them began to circle overhead and cry out. We’d eloped to the Tioga County area and it was just the three of us and the eagles at our ceremony. They later sort of traveled along the same valley with us for a while as we stopped to take our wedding photos.

Back to the point. I hoped to see one.

As traffic at the end of the bridge leaving Wisconsin into Iowa slowed to a stop I spotted one! We were still in WI territory so it counted for “LUCK!” Pivoting in my driver’s seat I had to twist to my 8 o’clock position in order to capture a shot. I only got one in focus before I could see that traffic was going to move once more.

It was then that I resolved to trust in myself and that no matter what lay ahead I was going for it.

I’d finally left Wisconsin to go get Peggy.

#GottaGetPeggy #OIIIIIIIO #JourneyToTheWest

Apalāla

This is not a jeep ad. I just am really into Jeeps. I’m a Butler, PA native. It’s the very birthplace of this vehicle design. It’s what my grandpa drove from Tunisia to Germany during “The War.” He was a driver for the forward artillery observers as they’d rotate out of service. Or die. It’s a “Jeep Thing” as they say.

This is my fourth. Each has been more of an extension of my imagination when it comes to how I enjoy myself. I’ve used them to explore, camp, fly fish, romance, family fun and these days as a photography platform. I have done the majority of the “mods” myself. Each and everyone piece was carefully chosen and researched and bought at discounted prices. This vehicle was literally a gift from Santa. And by that I mean for real as it was an amazing stroke of good fortune that found this in my driveway on Christmas week. Totally by coincidence too, but that’s a different story.

I digress. Just to answer what everyone usually asks. The Sanskrit writing on the hood says, “Apalala.” It’s the name of a legendary river dragon from Buddhist mythology. Why so is also a story for another day, as are the “why so’s?” to the rest. They are boar and ravens and little stuff just for fun.

I once heard someone say Jeeps were for people with no personalities. OK.

All I know is I was going to finally wear out my stock tires! It was time to earn some new shoes going to get Peggy and bring her home. Whoever the heck may be.

#GottaGetPeggy #OIIIIIIIO #JourneyToTheWest #Apalāla

Dawn on Mount Hope

As I drove down a nicely packed, crushed limestone gravel road it’s tiny fossil packed pebbles made comforting music as I randomly turned off course. Having chosen to simply follow my instincts on when to have some creative play I found myself on N Irish Road. The view to the far ridges on the other side of the Wisconsin River valley was the background to a small barn with around a dozen cattle (see it on my site in highres) The foreground was covered in crops.

The early morning light emphasized the fertility of this labyrinth-like land. The northern slopes all descend quickly into the basin below. The bruised dawn sky is split in two as a first wave of particles wash high over the land. The west coast wildfire smoke was just beginning to reach this particular part of western Wisconsin.

This is also the very first place that I felt it was the “right moment” to get my dSLR out and be creative. I wanted to capture the amazing landscape I was passing through. This crazy moment in my life. I’ve learned to trust the process. You can’t force these things. I had to pace myself.

The stop was brief and by total coincidence was in Mount Hope, Wisconsin. Perfect because I was full of HOPE as I took this photo. I hoped going to pick up a fragile, total stranger and her cat wasn’t total madness. I was getting close to the Mississippi River. I had to go get Peggy. And I really HOPED this all went well.

*This is a very detailed photo that will not translate well on most social media. It will be on my site via the homepage on my profile. Just look for the Gotta Get Peggy! Gallery.*

#GottaGetPeggy #OIIIIIIIO #JourneyToTheWest

EndemicTaxa

As dawn broke behind me smoke bruised the distant horizon. The morning weatherman mentioned that Wisconsin would begin to see noticeable effects from the massive wildfires a couple of thousand miles away. The urgency to get to Oregon and back initially had me consider taking the main highways all the way. Once I realized it would take three days to get there, no matter which way I went, I began to pace my journey and just ramble.

My own troubles sunk into the ancient bedrock. The oceans that once flourished over this land left little evidence of it’s passing. It’s packed layers of compressed remains nestle dark, misshapen voids of dissolved matter that can never be remembered. It’s not unlike the porous-like nature of my relationships with those I’ve truly hurt. Little tiny vugs of blackness fill me with those moments in which I’ve truly wounded other souls. Each chamber hollowed out nothingness. Lost forever. They’ll be the only sign of what will be left of my personal mass extinction of self loathing moments in time.

Passing through the lush and fertile ridges I let myself just head West. Driftless hills carried me towards the Mississippi.

I had to get Peggy.

#GottaGetPeggy #OIIIIIIIO #JourneyToTheWest

A Damsel in Distress

All right. I guess I should tell you who Peggy is? I hadn’t really heard about Peggy until a couple of weeks ago. It was September 15th, 2020 when I got word of her plight. Fires raged out of control in the wilds on the western coast of the continent. The air had become the most toxic on the planet. Peggy was eighty five, living with no direct personal family relations able to assist.

I was informed that coughing would kill her. That she had a cat. A room full of stuff in a senior living facility, and hadn’t been seen in person for over fifty years by my wife’s family. Also, she was so high risk of death due to her condition she was prohibited by her Doctor to use any form of public transportation and given papers for a medical evacuation. Nobody knew anything else about her.

In other words, I had no clue what waited for me on the other end of this trip. All I knew is that I had to go get Peggy and bring her home.

#GottaGetPeggy #OIIIIIIIO #JourneyToTheWest

Lunation 1209

I passed the Blue Mounds a few minutes after leaving home at 6am. Uncertainty and determination made for an interesting combination. I’m not alone in feeling that way these days. The growing chaos of 2020 as families, friends and neighbors is being torn about by zealots of every stripe and color, all against the backdrop of a pandemic that’s taken nearly a quarter of a million souls.

I drew strength from the Mounds as I rolled past. It’s a place tied to my very soul having been a battleground for my struggle with alcoholism. I spent over a year burying myself in labor on and under the land. The total darkness of the caves is where I began to drag the monster within into the light of the dawn. To face the pain caused when anger slips. But especially when I have a severe relapse with drinking and I vent my anger on the people I am supposed to nurture.

The ever recurring role of my internal rage over unresolved frustrations I have with my own self, and how it affects my child and family weigh heavy on my mind as I set out. I’ve three days to cross 2000 miles in my Wrangler. I am not the hero of this story. This is not a Jeep ad.

All I knew is that I had to go pick up Peggy and bring her home. So began my personal Journey to the West.

#GottaGetPeggy #OIIIIIIIO #JourneyToTheWest