As we all know, life never stops. Not unlike anyone who has tried to sustain a habit over years and years I’ve let my writing lapse here recently. But I’ve decided with the advent of a new job and a major shift in my schedule approaching that I should try and get back to something that I think makes my life better in every way. And that to be quite frank is just this. The expression of my experiences on a screen written for the anonymous few and perhaps one or two that I might know.
I’ve seen and experienced quite a bit over the last few years from returning from my trip down south to Australia to several nights spent under desert skies. I lost my job as a bartender due to Covid-19. I’ve started a new career as an EMT and have been working at Boulder Community Hospital since April of this year.
I’ve seen death a few more times up close and personal. I’ve been a part of the start of a beautiful relationship with an amazing woman. I’ve lived with my youngest sister Emma for the last year and learned that I have so much to learn about communication. I got a god damn dog. Her name is Echo and she is the fucking best thing thats happened to me. Even if she really pisses me off by eating my approach shoes and ripping up a potted plant on my bed while I work the night shift at the hospital. I’ve been able to climb, ride my bike, go running, and hike my favorite mountains regularly.
Recently I’ve witnessed the beauty and awful destruction of the wildfires ravaging Colorado. The sunsets have never been more beautiful or more terrible. The smell of smoke has for the last week clung to my clothes, perforated every inch of my living space, contaminated the hospital. The ash rains from the sky so much that my truck looks more gray than black. The flames glow orange over Boulder burning homes of friends and strangers alike. More people everyday are evacuating their homes taking precious little as they wait to find out whether or not they have to start part of their lives over.
But thats fire. Thats always been fire. It burns what lies in its path, ravages whatever stands before it. And yet, oddly enough makes the areas it “destroys” all the better for it. Large forests burn completely to the ground only to be replaced by small shrubs and then small trees. Over time a healthier more balanced ecosystem begins to be recognizable as the pine forest or the from grasslands before. Homes can be rebuilt lives continued. But for a brief moment in time a scar is placed on the land as a reminder of the power and the force of nature. But in these particular times these dark marks left by fast moving fires are urgent reminders that what we have taken for granted really can’t be ignored anymore.
Life hasn’t stopped. Not for me and not for any of you either. The world keeps turning- keeps burning. Living life is just as hard as its ever been and also just as beautiful. I’m determined to continue to see the world and my life they way I always have and recognize that after every fire there grows a healthier more beautiful forest. I also am determined to write about it. So here in the next several weeks I’ll finish updating my stories from Australia, I’ll add some tales of around town and home, and then I’ll keep writing about whatever I need to.
Finally we were leaving Darwin, N.T.. Our bags were back on the bikes, water was filled, food was bought, and gas was topped off. The plan was to make for The Gibb River Road, a notorious but touristy 4×4 high way that runs for about 700km through the Kimberly. Our first day out was pretty mellow yet super efficient. We cruised down bitchumen (paved highway) making great time. We stopped every 100km or so to refuel my bike and its measly eight liter tank, but also just to have a break and chat.
Axel and Mia were greatly enjoying watching me get the hang of riding, let alone riding with a weighted down bike. According to them I was swerving, and rock and back and forth constantly. The best however is when I would start from a total stop, I’d almost hit the deck every-time. So with everyone in good moods and the landscape flying past we arrived at our first camp just outside of Nitmiluk National Park.
The original plan had been to camp inside the park but after realizing that would not be free we quickly turned around and started searching for a new home for the night. With in a few kilometers of leaving the park we found a dirt track that split off from the park road and wound out into the bush. Of course we only followed the dirt track for a few moments before we took off into the brush itself, seeking out a hilltop for our evening camp.
Through the brush we went, Axel and Mia paving a their own paths with me teetering along behind, unsure of how to negotiate non-flat/smooth surfaces. Coming up and over the crest of a final hill we discovered the high point we had been searching for. As we unpacked we noticed the fenced-off area and what appeared to be dump, that was not more than half of kilometer away. Choosing to ignore it and just stay there any way, we went about setting up camp. Distracted by the flora of our new surroundings we were all busy admiring a very white tree when from behind us came a voice.
The voice belonged to a young aboriginal man who was dressed in naught but a loin cloth or maybe a very small pair of shorts, I’m not entirely sure. He caught all of us off gaurd as we were all distracted by other things. He was quite slight in build, but of average hight. He carried a machete as well as fishing gear. He walked bear foot from somewhere beyond the dump. He told us a loud, but not angry voice that we were not allowed to camp there, but that he would permit it for the night. He also gave a warning not to head east towards his community least we encounter cheeky dogs. He also advised us to stay away from an area about 100 meters south west of the dump, he said, “And don’t go over there, thats were we bury our dead people.” We had no contestations or arguments to make and before any of us could really wrap our heads around his appearance he was gone.
That first night Axel and I were jammed into his two person tent, a mistake we would make only once. We slept well, but hot. It was still maybe 90 degrees after the sun went down. We all lost a few liters of water to the night air and our sleeping pads felt more like slip-n-slides than the comfortable beds we wanted. But I will admit it made getting out of bed at 4am at first light all the easier. Because Australia’s populations centers are often times so far spread out states like Western Australia have to make certain sacrifices in terms of how the states time zones are set up. Because the country is so large, the sixth largest in the world, the further north in W.A. you go the more absurd the zoning seems. And so to help us deal with the ridiculousness and ease us into a spectacular sunrise I played the 1980’s hit by Sheana Easton, Morning Train.
The first leg out our day was simple, we had to head down towards Kathrine. There we stocked up on food and water and picked up the gear that we would need for the rest of the trip. This included extra water bladders, a new tent for me, and a 20L jerry can to help us make it across the Gibb River Road. Apart from a pretty spectacular near crash in the early part of my day our ride was uneventful, that is until we got to camp that night.
Pushing on from Katherine and headed down towards Kununurra, we made great time flying down the unbelievably straight roads. As night fell we found ourselves somewhere in the middle between the two cities and very much so ready for sleep. After a hearty meal of spaghetti, our only cooked meal while camping of the entire trip, we were ready to pass out.
Our exhaustion was however not due to the road traveled that day, but more the offloading once we had reached camp. We had found and heavily used site not far off the road surrounded by a sandy creek bed. A dirt-bikers play ground. Axel and Mia were quick to ditch the gear set up camp and hop back on the bikes to go for a rip. This would be the first of my many crashes due to the sand. Instead of trying to recall the event in totality, I’ll just copy my entree from my journal that night.
Weather: Clear/humid/hot 31°C
Coordinates: 15.8457° South
129. 9082° East
Roadside having ridden 400km from Kathrine, headed to Gibb River Road. Bikes are running great. Took them into a sandy creek bed which was hard as hell, crashed and ripped right sd mirror off. Crashed again on a 2ft drop got thrown from the bike entirely. Big fire, easy sleep, spicy sour cream burritos.
As I approached the big left corner the smell of acrid smoke got stronger and the engine began to sputter. I was definitely running out of gas, but what could the smoke be? I had no idea. I kept calm as the engine died, pulling off to the side of the road 100 yards to the corner I’d been staring at. Swinging my left leg up and off the bike and through a cloud of dark gray smoke it became apparent very quickly what was wrong.
Dave, Lucas, Mia, Axel and I had set off from Holtze Rd, Dave’s house, that morning just shy of noon. The plan was for the five of us to ride from Holtze to Litchfield National Park do some sight seeing than part ways. But with all good days, it didn’t go to plan. Starting off our day was more of a joke than anything else, as I was still learning how to pack my bike and flat out ride it. Not only that but I didn’t even have boots. We spent a solid 45min of our morning zipping around the out skirts of Darwin looking for boots.
Finally right around lunch time we were on the road. Cruising down bitchumen at 110kmh. With in the first 5 minutes on the road I had more than three cars desperately try to tell me that my left blinker was on. (I still can’t figure out why they were all freaking out so much over a blinker.) We left Darwin heading south taking a more indirect route, more reminiscent of Dave’s childhood rides in the area. Corrugated dirt track and mellow highways. The road was open and we flew.
Flew, that is until I started breathing in gray smoke. Clambering off the bike, it quickly became apparent that the smoke was coming from the exhaust. A giant hole had appeared in the side wall of the exhaust pipe, which was supposedly carbon fiber, but clearly was not. The smoke however, was in fact steam. I had placed panniers over the rear plastics on my bike which had pinned the plastics onto the exhaust pipe cause it to melt the pipe, the plastics, and through my pannier bag and then melt the water bladder contained inside. The pipe was destroyed, the plastic melted but still usable, the pannier was also destroyed.
Half of what I thought was smoke, was actually steam and most of the truly acrid smoke was coming from the water bladder. Lucas was the first to notice I had fallen behind and in short order he was helping me to get the bike back into riding condition. Axel happened up on us moments later and between the three of us had my bike refueled, from a fuel bladder I’d been carrying; we also managed to rearrange the damaged bits to make the bike rideable for at least the rest of the afternoon.
Which of course we did, we rode another 75kms at least into Litchfield National Park and did that same distance again before we happened onto another bit of a mess. We had just finished exploring the beautiful Wangi Falls, which honestly felt a little to touristy for us.
Leaving Wangi we rode for about 30km down the road before I realized that Axel was no longer behind me. Catching up to Mia, I quickly without much speaking, relaid that Axel was no longer with us. Mia taking little time to evaluate the situation turned around and ripped down the road and out of sight. We had stopped at left hand turn to head towards another few waterfalls and watering holes, Dave and Lucas had continued down and around and were out of sight. After 15 minutes of waiting impatiently I decided to ride after Mia to see what the hold up could be. Two minutes down the road I saw Axel off the right side of the road gear off, tools out.
When he saw me coming he ran to the top of the ditch he was nestled in, waving me down. He explained Mia had blown right by him taking no notice of his attempts to get her attention. I’d later have it explained to me by Mia that, “If you’re not where you’re supposed to be, you’re dead or dying. I can’t just leave Axel while he’s dead or dying.” Hence the urgency in her initial reaction, however ineffective it was. A few moments with Axel it became clear is bike was unrideable without cause significant damage to the rear arm, part of the frame. On this rear arm is a small piece of black rubber about a quarter inch thick shaped like a very deep U. the U is about six inches long on each side with two little eyelets on the tips of the U for it to be screwed to frame. This had totally been eaten away by Axel’s chain and had fallen off somewhere further back down the road. At higher rates of speed, the chain would grind on to the swing arm and grind into the soft metal. Any significant distance and Axel would be looking at an expensive repair or maybe just a new bike.
When Mia finally turned around and the three of us were able to rendezvous with Dave and Lucas it was clear the day of riding for Axel was over. And considering the poor fuel economy my bike was experiencing due to over sized jets in the carburetor and not to mention the destroyed exhaust pipe, it was decided it was best if Axel and I parked the bikes at one of the near by water holes and waited while Lucas drove back 150km to get his ute to haul us out of this particular situation. It was our shake out run. And shake out problems we did. Lucas and Dave immediately began to slab it back to Darwin taking a more direct route while Axel, Mia, and I embraced our inner tourist and decided to go for a dip.
The water falls we found ourselves at were a little further off the beaten path but still very much so in the park. The thing was had going for us however is that tourist season was long since over, and the sun was slowly but surely setting. It gave us enough time to take a dip and even for Axel to do a bit of climbing about.
We were pretty exhausted after our first day of riding and exploring but not so tired we didn’t want to keep exploring the area. So after an hour or so of swimming about we started to venture back towards the bikes taking a different path. Getting back to the bikes we realized we still had at least an hour and half before Lucas would be back with the truck so in order to kill time we decided a fire was in order. Finding some benches in the parking lot was no problem, nor was finding wood to burn, and kindling to get it started.
Within moments we had a roaring fire, just enough to keep the bugs at bay. We really didn’t need to keep us warm considering it was still 90 degrees after the sun went down. Lucas finally made it back to us and we got the bikes loaded up in his ute (utility vehicle), pick-up-truck. The drive back to Dave’s house on Holtze road was largely uneventful, however I did learn that Axel, like many others, myself included, is a sucker for falling asleep in car that is just a little to warm and a little to cozy. Mia rode behind us, keeping close, but not too close to the rear of the truck. She later admitted she was worried about us hitting a kangaroo and spitting it under the truck back at her. Back at Dave’s house, repairs were made over the next two days and many beers were drunk. All in preparation for our real departure. The shake down run had been a success, we had shook ourselves proper and knew we were about to have our asses kicked.
I’d had my face glued to the window. Coming down in a broad arc the Timor Sea spread out in front of us and to the west. Darwin from the air looked as rural as Wyoming. The think dense patches of tropical forest were broken only by rich brown soil and the metal roofs of buildings. I’d been warned about the heat, told to brace for it, but sitting on the air conditioned plane I couldn’t prepare mentally for the humidity. Darwin is the kind of place that even on a cooler day still racks up to nearly 100% humidity.
Collecting my bags and heading outside I was met by a blast of sticky warm air and sights and sounds that were altogether foreign. The thing about the Northern Territory is that everything is so remote, even the biggest city, Darwin, is considered remote. Because of this people have to be self sufficient. And thus if there are cars in Darwin they look more like Americas pimped out off-road rigs. Bull bars, snorkels, and beefy tires were not just commonplace, I’m fairly certain they were on almost every vehicle. Paired with two 20L jerry cans for extra fuel and one 20L container for water the message was clear. Be self sufficient, and don’t get caught with your pants down. But by what remained the question.
Dave caught me with my pants down thats for sure. After being over whelmed by all the off road get ups around me a Toyota Carola roles up and out jump Axel and Mia Anderson. Separated by 10 years and two other siblings, these two might as well be my family. But the man who stepped out of the right side drivers door and slapped me on the shoulder exclaiming loudly, “Nice to meet you ya good cunt!” was not quite yet like family.
Dave is loud, boisterous and smokes like a god damn chimney. He is an engineer and is very mechanically oriented. But more than that, Dave like many in the motorcycle community, is a genuinely great person. With no knowledge of who we were, before any of us had arrived in Darwin; Dave had rushed around the Northern Territory finding three Honda XR 650’s for Axel, Mia, and me. Not only did he manage to find three, two 650Rs and one 650L, but he also used his own money to place deposit on them so we could pick them up when we arrived a week later. Dave housed us, drank with us, ate with us, and even came out for our first lap down to Litchefield National Park which lies just south of Darwin.
More than that though Dave didn’t just do this for us, he does it for every wayward motorcyclist who might think the Northern Territory is for them. While we were there a young woman named Agnes, who was traveling alone across the country was also calling Dave’s Biker Bunker home. At 22 years old Agnes had just ridden up from southern Western Australia and on her way up had run into some tough luck! Yet Agnes was in high spirits and treating her time at Dave’s more like a retreat and time to heal than being sidelined from her trek. As it turns out, she is also a very accomplished group chef.
Time at Dave’s was primarily spent working on the bikes and getting them ready to hit the road. Oil changes, new chains and sprockets, fresh rubber, rack building, tank adjustments, and new jets in the carburetor in my bike. This dominated our first week but during all of this I kind of stood by with an all to confused look on my face. You see, I’d come to ride 7,000km across Australia with about 10 hours of previous riding experience. I’ll reiterate, I’d been on a bike long enough to know how to shift and not stall every other time. And so this week also meant learning as much about motorcycles in as short-amount of time as possible. A week was not long enough.
The last time I got on here I was wallowing in worry over taking a nationally registered exam for my EMT cert. I passed. No big deal. However, two days after that test I got on a plane and flew 23 hours to Darwin, Northern Territory, Australia. I’d been invited by my two good friends Axel and Mia a few months previous to our departure and seeing as I’d wanted to take a motorcycle trip with them for some time I readily agreed to go along. Over the next few weeks I will attempt to chronicle some of the adventures we had whilst traveling down under! I will attempt to do so in chronological order so as to give a more authentic feel to the trip cause like anything, the good stuff doesn’t just happen all at once.
I will happily end this post by suggesting that this trip was one of the hardest things I have done in a while and also one of the most rewarding. This is really the story of how I learned to ride a motorcycle in a different country, off road, with one eye. Kinda a recipe for some great stories. I also have to commend my friends Axel and Mia Anderson for being two of the most outstanding and hard working people I have ever meet. The world would be a better place with more like you. With that I’ll jump off for now.
Until next time when the journey begins!
My sympathetic nervous system is in full effect right now. My palms are slightly moist, my heart rate elevated. My eye twitches in response to small movement. My mouth is dry, and I notice sounds I didn’t realize I could. The sun is beating down through the cold morning air to the right side of my body. The light is obscuring the screen, and heating my fingers as I type. Music is pour into my ears attempting to quell the other stimulation which is mounting a full blown attack on my systems.
This is test anxiety. Crazy. I’m not one to suffer from anxiety and I have to say I’m pretty stoked I don’t because right now, its hard to get back to normal. I’m working on controlling my breath, fueling my body with good food and water. Making sure to not stress the small things. I know what I know at this point and no amount of last minute cramming will serve to help. I think the single most important thing I can do at this point is bring myself back down to normal. To get out of my head. And thats why I’m here, thats why I’m writing right now.
Everyone else is on edge as well, the instructors are freaking out about scheduling, other students are just as nervous as me, if not more nervous. But what can we do? Just breath deeply, assess whats bothering us, and carry on.
Right now I’m breathing deeply, listening to the sound of my fingers on the key board, the chit chat of my peers, and the deep hum of the air ventilation system. Some pretty angry rap is filling my headphones, the level of stoke is rising.
From nerves to ready to do what I do. I’m fun to get stressed and come out the other side, I’ll let you know how the test goes, until then. Peace.
Many of the things I read or listen to these days have to do with understanding morality, or the author trying their best to understand humanity. These pieces of writing are often times my favorite because they tackle issues that I myself often feel compelled to think about; albeit talk about when I’m either very stoned or slightly buzzed. Listening to great mind attempt to pick apart the meaning they might have discovered in details of their lives or attempting to explain the rational of mankind as inquisitive or purposeful seems woefully indulgent and hopelessly out of touch. For, the more I live, the more plane it seems to me that the purpose of life is to live.
I just applied for my S-190 fire fighter orientation. I’m approaching my departure date for Australia, I’m wrapping up my Wilderness EMT, and getting ready to go home for a day. My future life right now is for the most part pretty much unknown. While it appears I have a trajectory, trending towards firefighting and EMS, I am also pulled back towards the study of law, the appreciation of art and music, bartending and culinary excellence and the understanding of a life well lived. In other words I’d also be fine to be a ski bum. I’m trying to figure out what to do with my life and with my time and so far the only thing that I have been able to settle on is to do as much as possible. So I guess without further ado, I’m off to do some sleeping right now, so I can get wake up tomorrow and do more.
I’ll keep you updated as to what happens with the fire fighter idea, and what might come after that. If I can I’d love to find some high intensity contract jobs for short periods of time where I can work and save for my next set of schooling/ trainings. I think I’ll continue to try and learn as much as possible and just leave it at that for now. Until next time.
At the moment the dinning hall of the Wyss Wilderness Medicine Campus is brightly lit, filled with happy voices, punctuated with laughter, and the occasional beep from the microwave. Everyone is in different states of preparedness for the upcoming week, and overwhelmingly the impression is one of anticipation and excitement for whats to come. Along with bemusement of those who had to much to drink last night and made a fool of themselves. It’s interesting to sit here in the middle of active conversation and socialization and intentionally isolate myself with headphones and an open laptop. Quietly observing the body language of my peers, imagining their current state of mind.
Two weeks of focused study later and I am honestly feeling ready to go home. As much as I enjoy the company of these fine people I have to say that there is no replacement for those people we have selected to be our family. And likewise creating a healthy routine becomes almost impossible when your utmost dedication is required to a single task. I’ve spent the better part of 11-13 hours a day focused on the study of emergency medicine and as a result have let other aspects of my life lapse. While I am able to recognize this as a necessary evil in the pursuit of larger long term goals, it is still frustrating to not be able to feel satiated emotionally, artistically, physically. Perhaps the single hardest thing for me is not having the time to be on open trails with dirt and rock under my feet.
This leads me to perhaps one of the more valuable lessons I’ve learned here; I require a lifestyle in which balance is made and then maintained. Actively participating in my own imbalance is a strange and surreal process. To recognize the solution and yet to not be able to fix it in pursuit of something else is quite frustrating. Do we call that sacrifice or masochism? Does it matter? Isn’t it all just complaining anyway? But maybe not? I have to say there has not been a single moment here that I have no enjoyed, and yet if I could I would do things differently. Maybe its just recognizing preferences.
My preferences are for the open and star lit skies which ring with cold. Strong coffee that is balanced firmly in sun browned hands and sipped by dirty faces. Rough rock that absorbs the stress of powerful ethics and the commitment to better days. Tenacious friendships that pick up always where they left off and scoff at hardships. My preferences are for exactly what I’m doing and appreciating it for what it is, recognizing that these moments are the only ones like them that I will ever get. By embracing these few seconds and seeing them for what they are; my preferences are for brightly lit dining halls, filled with happy voices, punctuated with laughter, and the occasional beep from the microwave.
It’s a cold morning. The kind of cold morning where the color of the sky seems to match the temperature of the air. But it is a crisp fall cold, not yet the over bearing oppressive cold of winter. The west sky is covered in dark gray clouds, but further east streaks of gold and pink are bursting over the horizon. Breaking over the hills, the light blue of the early morning sky only serves to further highlight the simple fact that the sun is on its way. As color returns to earth and shapes become more than obscure objects in twilight, so seemingly does the warmth of day. As the dawn continues its march through the morning night scales back its forces allowing for the brief and momentary victory of a new day.
Well here we are in the middle of a new week! Having gone through eight days of heavy course work and vigorous skills training I have to admit I’m starting to get a little worried. Things are just moving quickly. The amount of practice that is needed in order to gain competency at some of these skills is considerable, while the amount of reading and comprehension needed to pass exams and operate appropriately in the field is also demanding. Practice tests as well and understanding vocabulary have become my primary studying functions and I have foregone the complete reading of chapters. This is ultimately more unnerving than I think it is ineffective, but I guess time will tell.
The practical scenarios are finally starting to become more involved and complex which is really pretty fun. Having to think quickly on your feet about how to handle certain situations and respond to different kinds of medical emergencies is a great and invigorating exercise. The ability to recall certain principles of treatment when faced with a bloody chest wound or a non-responsive patient becomes way more of a challenge. However, I have found that for the most part I am more than capable of remaining calm and continuing to provide non-emotionally charged care.
This became particularly clear to me over the weekend whilst working in the Riverton ER. I spent Friday night from 3pm to 11pm taking patient vitals and helping to clean rooms for the nurses. These tasks placed me in direct communications with patients some of whom where having incredibly difficult days. I have to say that having the expectations and real world consequences of patient care hanging over me, I still felt wonderful calm and un-phased.
There still much to be learned and many mistakes to be made but for now, I’m feeling good, feeling confident. I’m excited about the prospect of making those mistakes and having the chance to make a difference in someone’s life as the product of my learning here and now.
So this is gonna be hard. Probably not the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but academically its going to be very challenging. I’m gonna have to read way more than I did today, and be way more on my game than I have been. The practical skills don’t worry me much and I plan on drilling them, and as long as I can find ways to incorporate the book learning to practical use I should be fine. I was able to drill the PAS (Patient assessment survey) and basic vitals with other students this evening in addition to a little bit of the reading I had planned. There is still more to do though!
The campus is amazing, and the people here so far are pretty damn awesome. Not so sure how social roles will all unfold but honestly its feeling kinda like a repeat of so many of the classes I have taken. I just have a tendency to talk and people have a tendency to listen. I’m holding back a ton though. It is really interesting to not be as actively engaged as I normally am. I give it another day before I’m bursting at the seems, and also being caught up on the reading. Alright from the end of day one, sleep well and we will talk soon!