Until The Next Life, Adrianne

I have a habit of ignoring important feelings.

It's how I deal with things that are hard to comprehend. The other way is writing. I struggled with what blog I should write this under. Path Less Taken, or Tentman. Then I realized it doesn't even matter.
I just need to get this out in words.

The details are now out about how a friend from high school was murdered, and stories are popping up all over the web.
When I heard last week that homicide was on the case, i questioned whether I wanted to know the details. I have no precedent personally, but I assumed that maybe it would be better if I could just imagine my own better version of how things transpired.
Unfortunately I was right.

You always read these stories. You never think you're going to know the person you read about.
Reading the article, memories start coming back.

The smile and laugh that sets them apart from everyone else you know.
Sitting together in English and making driving noises when the big trucks went by our room. Dating for a week freshman year, and being silly and immature, but still being cool enough to be friends after.

And then you read the dark details, and wonder just how in the hell someone so vibrant, with so much going on in life, can have
things end so abruptly, and in such horrible fashion. The situation is just not fair, and I am mortified for her family, and her would-be fiance.

Adrianne, not much can be said that hasn't already. We miss you and are so sorry that things had to end this way. I hope you are in a peaceful place.
See you when we get there.

krp

From the Sun Journal:
CLEARWATER, Fla. — Adrianne Robert, 29, of Clearwater, a former resident of Greene and Lewiston, went home to her Lord on Saturday, July 14, at her home.


Adrianne Robert

She was born in Brunswick, Jan. 4, 1983, the beloved daughter of Mark and Delores (Dimino) Robert. Attending local schools, Adrianne was a graduate of Leavitt High School, Class of 2001, and a graduate from the University of Maine at Augusta, Class of 2005. Moving to Florida in 2007, she also attended the University of Southern Florida, St. Petersburg.

A gifted artist and graphic designer, Adrianne’s passion for the arts allowed her to pursue her dreams of working in the graphic design and marketing industry. Starting her brilliant career in Lewiston, she was employed by the Lewiston Sun Journal as a page designer, followed by her employment at several well-known and well established businesses within various Florida communities, including work at the Hilton Hotel as the E-Commerce manager as well as their director of catering and marketing, Gaspers Grotto as the assistant event coordinator and the Holiday Inn Development Corp., as marketing manager. Her successful creativity in the marketing industry along with her drive and passion to help promote small businesses, allowed her to start her own company, Splatter Concepts Incorporated, which she managed with love, pride and commitment, a spirit which could be felt by all who worked alongside her.

Her dedication to her career did not prevent her from enjoying life. An avid runner, Adrianne competed in several running events with close friends. She enjoyed photography and painting, traveling, as well as spending time with her family and the many wonderful and dear friends who would soon become a part of her own extended family. Having found the man of her dreams, Adrianne was to spend the rest of her life with her loving fiance, Justin Pounders. Justin and Adrianne were a shining example of love at first sight and that true love does exist. Her passion for life and the spark she shared with those who were lucky enough to have known her will be an everlasting testament of how she lived, living each day as if it was her last. She will be sadly missed but her loving memory will live on forever.

Adrianne is survived by her loving parents, Mark and Lori Robert of Greene; her brother, James Michael Martin and his wife, D.J., of Lisbon; her paternal grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Robert; a great-aunt, Lorraine Philippon; her aunt and uncle, Ron and Cindy Boisvert; an aunt, Pat McCutcheon; one nephew, James Dillon; her fiance, Justin Pounders of St. Petersburg, Fla.; several cousins; and many friends.

Adrianne was predeceased by her maternal grandparents, Hazel and Carl Dimino.

Summer On the Inside Looking Out: Ruminations of an Outdoor Dweller

Today I saw a picture from the Mount Washington Observatory that brought some things from my past back to me in a startlingly vivid manner.
Rime ice and snow thickly coated the tower at the top of the mountain. It was about this time last year I began my first stint as a Back Country Caretaker in the Pemigewasset Wilderness, on the side of Mount Garfield...4000 feet above the sea.

I went to my room, reached to the top of my closet, into a bag I have full of random writings. In it, I keep my handwritten journal from my summer in the mountains. I thumbed through it.
I wrote everyday up there. Once in the morning, and often in the afternoon. It still smells like the woods.

To be a Caretaker in the back country is a practice in learning where the grass is really green. To walk in the woods, knowing you won't look at a computer screen, hear a car go by, eat a pizza, or shower for the next ten days is an exciting experience, until the 6th day, when all you want is a pizza, shower, and to check your email. You work when you want, but more importantly, you hike.

You hike every trail near your site, which you are responsible for, for an entire summer and part of fall.
Once you've hiked every trail, you try to do it faster.
Once you're bored with that, you start trying to find new shit that perhaps no one has seen before by braving the krummholz and bushwhacking to areas that others don't dare to go.

What I knew about this while I was doing it, was that all of this adventuring was ridiculously fun. I found cliffs, waterfalls, a dead moose at 3800 feet, and more unknown vistas than any trail-walker could ever think about looking from. I knew the wilderness in that area just as well as the animals that dwelled there, because I DID dwell there, loathing extended rainy periods and seemingly coming alive in the sunny days that followed. After each 10 day stint, I walked out of the woods, pondering whether I WAS one of those critters.

What I know about this now, is that to know an area of rugged wilderness that intimately is a life-changing experience.
Knowing every rock in the trail. After a night of wild winds, to be able to notice which branches broke from any given tree in any given spot around the site. To see the incredible impact that foot traffic has on a mountain over the course of just one season.

I have not lived indoors during the summer in 3 years. It blows my mind to think of where I was at in my life during that season 3 years ago. I owned a Land Rover. I had a dog. I had a fiance. I lived next to a drug dealer who beat his pregnant 17 year old girlfriend.

The things that happen to us are surely on purpose and part of a plan we can never understand- this I have learned. Now, I sometimes look at the transients around town and sympathize with their plight, but wish that just for a moment, I could be living their renegade life... going wherever the weather takes them. Everyday a different and new adventure.

Thanks for reading,
krp

Getting The Vibe at Mojo

This time of year, I can't help but think of the different places I've lived during Christmas time.

There's my hometown of Turner, ME. The mid-Atlantic town in Waynesboro, PA.
Presque Isle, ME...

I spent 2 years working for Mojo up in Aroostook County, and it changed hands twice during that time.

There were times when it seemed like everything was always up in the air when I worked there- it is a high end gear shop in an area where financially, things aren't always stellar- but there were a few things that always stayed the same.

The employees who believed in the place, and the customers who had faith in it.
Those people who "got it", as I liked to say, didn't think Mojo of as a store.
It was a platform for people to launch healthy lifestyles.
It was a meeting place for those like-minded individuals to grab a cup of coffee, socialize, and then head out for a bike, run, or ski. There was always an employee or regular customer there to get advice from on any sporting issue you could come up with.

The grumblers of Aroostook County didn't shop there or support the place. The grumblers didn't "get it".
They didn't take the time to go to any wax clinics, bike maintenance clinics, or running workshops.
They might come to our group rides to test if their phallic size had grown over the winter, only to find out that our group rides were only about social spinning(not hammerfest-ing), and that more than likely, there was still someone who could outride them there.
The grumblers didn't care about having fun, or buying into the idea of a social circle of fit people.

They didn't come to our Breast Cancer Awareness Ride, or any other ride for any other cause, for whatever reason.

They simply didn't want to take the time to realize that Mojo wasn't the usual bike shop. It wasn't a peckerhead shop where, within 5 minutes of entering, an employee asks what kind of bike you ride in an effort to size you up.
I keep saying was, because it WAS a year ago when I left. The same ideas apply now.

There are still grumblers, but more importantly, there are more people who are still buying into Mojo as an idea.
I cannot count how many people's lives have been changed by the shop, from simple weight loss to fitness goals achieved.
If you have reservations about the store, you don't Get It....but that's okay. You still can join the people who are considered less like customers, and more like family.

I'm not saying you should go in today and spend $1000 on gear. Indeed, on your first visit, you need not buy anything.

Go in, meet Mark, and ask what's coming up next on the ridiculously extensive calendar of Outdoor Events in Aroostook County. Say hi to his well-behaved kids, who are usually hanging out there. See when the next clinic or weekly ski is. Sit on the big comfy couch, and I guarantee within minutes someone will sit down and strike up a conversation by someone who Gets It.
That's just how it is there.

werewolfin'

There's a roof over my head, and the rooms inside are heated.
I could go to the next room and take a shower right now if I wanted to.

A fluffy couch. A dining room table.
A toilet that flushes.
The softness of the civilized world encroaches upon me always.

I must keep it at bay.

-----
Last night, I left work.
Saddling up on my old Trek, I set off on the last half of my 56 mile round trip commute.

It was cold, and my toes numbed within minutes.
My face froze.
I hadn't eaten much during the day, and I welcomed the wobble in my legs.

Tractor trailers blew by me, and I snuck dangerously close to the white line, catching free speed from their drafts.

Soon, the lights of the city were gone. My small headlight shone on the pavement ahead- just enough to see any cracks in the road that might cause significant damage.

Other than the hum of my own tires: silence.
The moon hung in a perfectly clear sky- a sure sign that the temperature was only going to get lower.

I was left with nothing but analysis:
Of how my feet were going to hurt when they finally thawed.
How the moon and I have had some pretty intimate nights together on rides and runs just like this.

How being out there in the cold and dark, hungry, is so not something humans seek out. As a race, it's just not something we do. Much better and safer to go home and turn on the TV. Comfort. Why?

For a while, I pretended I was something else, and acknowledged the moon with a low howl.

BrainDump

So, it's been a little over a month since the mountain-man summer.

I've been bumming around kind of, but things are about to change. My life has gone from super simple to busier than I can ever imagine, in just a matter of weeks. I can say I'm pretty happy about the way things are going.

Got a job pedaling gear at an outdoor store. Also teaching a spin class at a local gym. Waiting to hear back about a part time, overnight job as well. 3 minion jobs.
The last few years, I have been going through some things mentally... career wise.

I know that I need to advance in whatever I do, but ever since Olympia, I have been really apprehensive. This apprehension is because I know no moderation. Once I start, I have a tendency to go balls-out. I give my soul away, work hours not fit for a human being in order to make things perfect, and big companies take full advantage of that.
My inability to balance work and life scares me, and makes it extremely hard to want to commit, because I can already see the writing on the wall. I know for a fact, the last 2 years, I haven't given it my all, because if I do, my life will be work.

Also, I've worked too many jobs where the higher-level managers are held with such reverence, and the big boss is feared so much, that they may as well be God.
This is a game that I am absolutely done playing. These people are no better than anyone else... in fact, in my experience, they have more transgressions than most. Everyday, they also sit on the toilet and take big dumps, just like you. Think of them on the toilet straining next time someone says,"The Regional Manager is going to be here, don't do this or that!"

I don't know. Got off on a little tangent there.
The will to commit is there, but I don't want to go over the edge.
I don't want to take on the persona of just the average joe who works at that place.
There is so much more to life than working.
While my training is a great outlet, I have also started Gutter Race Productions.
This is a cause I believe in, and I think will help me focus on other things than work, and so I can punch in, give it my all, punch out, and stop thinking about work.

Paid my first month of rent in about a year and a half the other day. Can't say as I'm happy about it. There are 2 ways out. Go back to the VagabondLife(not an option with a woman in my life), or buy a house. While I'm not happy about rent, I am happy that my life is taking some direction.
I know where I want to be, I just have to go balls to the wall for a while. The challenge will be balancing it.

The Handwritten Diaries: Caught with my Pants Down

6/12/11
(After 10 days of training, this is the first night at the site)

The weather is junk: socked in, cold, and rainy.

Climbed to the summit of Mount Garfield. It was socked in with fog.
7 PM and no visitors yet.
Stoked that the site had a coffee pot. Took me 20 minutes to clean out the old coffee and mold. Yuck.
I forgot cream and sugar, so it looks like I will have to learn to like black coffee. Brought waaaaay too much food, which made for a tough hike in. I guess I'd rather have too much than not enough during these 10 days.
You hear stories of bad planning, and the last days' meals being peanut butter spoonfuls.

Gonna do last rounds and hit the sack.
Crossed fingers for no mice invasion.

-----------------------------
6-13-11
One thing I love about this job:bed at dusk.

Summited Garfield this AM and it was socked in, again. I am living in a cloud.
Getting killed by black flies.
Was cold last night. Had to put on everything I brought up, including rain gear. Not as bad today.
Every once in a while, the fog lifts, and a good view of Galehead is possible from the lookout.
No visitors last night, which is I guess rare for this site.
Earlier today during a rainy period, I stepped out of the tent to take a leak, and out of nowhere, a woman came around the corner to check the site out. What are the odds that the only person I've seen in the last 24 hours arrives and catches me mid-piss?
Luckily I was back-to. Unfortunately, that didn't make the camp tour less awkward.

Lots of down time up here. Some veteran caretakers say it helps to have a goal not job-related to occupy your mind.
Can definitely understand that. Got plenty, just need to figure out which ones should come first.
Peace out.

Ignorance: the New, Radical Adventure

Sometimes, I have the feeling that I was born during the wrong era.
I am just...bothered.

By what?
Oh, I don't know. Everything.
Whereas this makes me sound like an angry, cynical mountain man, perhaps I should explain.

I hate that we live in a world and society where everything needs to be quantified.
There is literally an answer for everything, and for the most part, it is absolute.

Where is the mystery? Where is the magic?
Easy answer: science and technology took it away.

Maybe our world is a slightly better place because of technology and progression. There are some cures that we can credit to our medical advances... but is that even a good thing?
The overpopulation of humans on earth is documented, which I also hate.

I don't want to believe in evolution. Why? Because that shit is boring....not to mention, there is NO way that all of the factors necessary for human life just happened to come into play at just the right time, one of the bazillions of results equaling me being able to type something on a device that I can carry around with one hand, post online, and have it be read immediately by people around the world.

If we didn't have TV and communication, beliefs of all kinds, in each region would be intact and with morals. We wouldn't be looking at Hollywood, getting married and divorced in the same day, trying to recreate what we see.

It would be nice to go into the woods and NOT know people had been there before, because there would be no maps made.

With all due respect and well-wishes to all victims of natural disasters, I find it refreshing that we can build massive structures and bridges, and nature can dismiss them in a matter of seconds.
Humans. We think we run shit, and it gets really tiring.

Wouldn't it be great to believe in ghosts, psychics, and ufos, without some asshole in a pocket protector and clipboard telling you why they don't exist?

If I'm bushwhacking in the western mountains of Maine, and I think I saw sasquatch, I wanna go back to camp and tell people that I think I just saw Bigfoot.
I love reiki, massage, and all other alternative methods of medicine because I believe there is a dimension that the whitecoats can't touch. The human mind. A God. Etc.

I want to believe there is mystery on earth still. Not scientific mystery- they're locked into their own perimeters and walls, and will probably never think outside of the box.
REAL mystery.
Maybe I've found it, and a lot of people(the quantifiers) will probably laugh.
Ignorance. It's not just bliss anymore.
Turn off the TV, iphone, and laptop.
Disconnect from all technology, and connect to the real world.

krp