Posts Tagged ‘adventure’

Rivers and Roads

Thursday, September 24th, 2015

With the sun rising over the mountains on one side and the open horizon on the other, I drove away from Durango, my brother, and the comfort of knowability to begin my first day totally alone on the road. It is never easy saying goodbye to the ones you love, even if it is just temporary. I have loved getting to explore the city my brother now calls home with him and meet some really amazing people that he has in his life. I really feel that a part of my heart belongs to Colorado and my brother is a huge part of that feeling. So I drove away in the dark, the first light of sunrise peeking through the rugged mountain tops, knowing that I was leaving a piece of my heart behind me.

But the road is open, the way is long, and I have many miles to travel before I find more places to leave pieces of my heart in as I move forward.

The end destination for the day, Boulder, Colorado. Another Colorado city that has a lot of meaning to my family; it is where my parents met and fell in love after adventuring and working together for some time. I have visited Boulder once in the past but for a very brief time, so needless to say I am excited to get to dig deeper into what Boulder has to offer. But first, the nine hours of driving in between Durango and Boulder that I completed by myself today.

To leave Durango you have to go over Wolf Creek Pass, a mountain range that climbs steadily to heights of even thinner air than Durango (which was hard enough on my wimpy sea level conditioned lungs). The colors were spectacular and the river that followed along the road after the summit was wondrously beautiful.

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I took about a two hour detour to visit a National Park that I made the mistake of skipping once many years ago and refused to make the same mistake twice. Great Sand Dunes National Park is a natural wonderland of sand, mountains, and colorful trees. I can never pass by a national park, even if it is quite far out of my way. So Mama the Llama and I settled in for a long drive and went to check out the park that lays claim to the highest sand dunes in North America.

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Before we hit the dunes though, we went and explored a small side trail that wove uphill through colorful aspens and alongside a fast moving creek. It was quite a nice spot even though it had nothing to do with the sand dunes that give the park its name.

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I hiked out from the main parking lot across trickling remants of a river and a wide expanse of flat sand to reach the base of the dunes. I must have been quite a sight to the other people out there who were decked out with walking sticks and proper hiking gear, while I was walking bare foot and in a dress. One man asked me where my high heels were as I climbed up the side of a gigantic sand dune.

But I didn’t mind, I was out there, I was doing it, and that was all that mattered to me. Deserts have always struck me strangely since I am not a terribly big fan of the sun or anything hot in particular, yet I have always deeply enjoyed going to desert parks. Death Valley is one of my all time favorite National Parks and here again, I found myself loving the desert sands of this entirely new national park.

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I hiked to a vantage point on a ridge of one particularly long sand dune and sat down to eat my lunch. This didn’t go as perfectly as I had imagined it as I was working my way up the ridge because I was being sand blasted the entire time. I think I ate more sand than I did sandwich. But it was a magnificent view and to watch the sand shifting under the powerful winds right before my eyes was awe inspiring. The way that the sand blows in high flying eddies feels like the entire world is vibrating and moving with exuberant life. I always have to bury my feet in the sand when I watch the world move beneath my feet because when they are buried you can feel your own pulse in your feet, but it feels like the heartbeat of the Earth beating in tune with your own.

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Mama had a bit of a hard time at the park and actually took quite a tumble down a sand dune because the wind was so incredibly strong that she couldn’t stay grounded even with her feet entirely buried in the sand. IMG_9247

Covered in sand, we both returned down the dunes as the wind whirled around in pirouettes. On the way down some very nice women actually let me borrow a sled to slide down one of the sand dunes, which was wonderfully exhilarating except for the tumble I took at the end. But still, it made me laugh and it made me feel alive. I waved my goodbye to the friendly group of women and Mama, PriPri and I left the Great Sand Dunes National Park receding in the rearview mirror. IMG_9260

The rest of the drive was a confusing mixture of flat nothing and bounding mountain passes covered in colorful trees . There was such an amazing array of autumn colors that I kept stopping all the time to take pictures because I was so awe-struck after rounding every corner by the new landscape that lay before me.

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I even did some off roading down a National Forest side road that provided some amazing aspen forest views. IMG_9283

No matter where I went, it was breathtakingly beautiful. I have never in my life seen sights like these and I cannot believe I am lucky enough to be able to take my time driving through all of it so I can soak it all in on my own time and at my own pace. IMG_9288

The most beautiful array of fall colors was at an overlook by Kenosha Pass. The entire mountainside was covered in a kaleidoscope of colors, like a chameleon caught between hues, the trees were somewhere between deep orange reds and fleeting green that could be completely gone tomorrow.

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After the astonishing natural beauty of this day of driving, I also have to throw in some kitschy weird things too; namely, a weird Coney Island hot dog stand that is shaped like a giant hot dog. Yeah, there are some pretty random and strange things to see out on the open road…

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Finally I cleared all of the mountains and descended into Denver. I didn’t stop in Denver proper, but I did take a quick trip to the Red Rock Amphitheater.

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After many a stop light and countless rush hour traffic jams, I made it to my hostel in Boulder where I am currently crashing and burning because I am so exhausted. It will be interesting to meet my roommates and see what sort of people they are, but I already like the hostel complex, which comes complete with a slack line yard that I am dying to try out and a wonderful river running directly through the complex. I can’t wait to see it in day light.

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Most importantly (at least to me), I did it. I made it. I completed my first solo day with no great tragedies, no misadventures, scary happenings. I was fine. If I can do one day I can do many more. This was almost like a trail for myself, I needed to prove to myself that I could actually do this, not just talk about doing it, but actually succeed in doing it. And here I am, all in one piece, a little tired, but ready for more adventure tomorrow. I cannot wait to see what adventure the newly risen sun will bring with it tomorrow.

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Where Two Rivers Meet

Monday, September 21st, 2015

Today was a slow day of learning how to live life like a local rather than a tourist. One of the few luxuries of a road trip is taking as much time as you want to explore the places you learn to love. Durango is such a surprising town that really impressed and captivated me. Since my little brother had class today at Fort Lewis College my dad and I decided to explore the cafes in town. We worked for several hours at The Steaming Bean, an adorable cafe full of hip young 20 somethings and brick walls covered in vibrant art. I spent the time writing in my journal and on some postcards I had gathered on the way over to Colorado. It was a great chance to relax and do something normal in a new place.

We also wandered around the residential streets in town and found blocks lined with trees with little gnome homes built at their bases. It was charming and one of many little things that consistently surprises me about Durango.

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Today was the first time I was able to get some alone time and I took advantage of my solo time to go on a hike while my brother and dad took a bike ride together. Hiking is one of the fastest ways to the true heart of a place, especially in places like Colorado where adventure and the outdoors are the life blood of the state.

I drove outside of Durango to the San Juan National Forest and picked up the Colorado Trail at Junction Creek. It felt great to put on my hiking boots and head out alone into the woods not knowing what I would find. The trail was framed by autumn colors and wove through a canyon next to a crystal clear river.

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I hiked to where two rivers met and found autumn at the crossroad waiting for me.

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After hiking for some time I made camp and sat on the river’s edge and read my book. Listening to the river running by as it cascaded over a series of small waterfalls I sat with my feet dangling over the water as rainbow trout swam underneath me.

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Sitting in silence out in the woods is one of the most peaceful experiences and I treasure that time dearly. Hiking in Colorado is such a lovely (and surprisingly different) experience than hiking in California. The people in the woods are so incredibly friendly, everyone says hello and always are happy to help out with spotting cool things or sharing wise advice on the trails. The silence out in the woods or out on any trail is so much more complete than anywhere else I have ever visited except Yellowstone in the winter. Even the back country trails in California are filled with noises and people who refuse to acknowledge your existence. It is so different here and amiable, it feels like we are an unspoken community rather than individuals inhabiting the same space. It is hard not to love every second of being out on the trails in Colorado, it makes me never want to leave.

The only time my peace was (happily) intruded upon was when my brother and dad rolled down the same trail I was on and stopped to say hello and check out the fish swimming in the river below us.

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It was a peaceful day and a much needed one at that to recenter everything that is important to me. When so much is in flux and changing around you it is easy to get caught in the riptide of life, and a good hike out in the forest along a river is the best remedy for reorienting yourself against the pull of the strong currents of the world.

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The Weight of Lives I am not Living

Wednesday, September 16th, 2015

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One reason I have decided to resurrect my blog is to document my cross country solo road trip. Today I hit the road and won’t find myself back on the West Coast until I have climbed the mountains of Colorado, rolled in the fall leaves of Northern Michigan, put my feet to the pavement of New York City, driven nearly the entire length of the East Coast, let the Atlantic Ocean wash the dirt from my tired feet, sipped a cup of coffee at Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans, and driven all the way back home. In total, I should be gone for about three months. Just me, my Prius (nicknamed PriPri), vast open expanses of road, and any adventure that finds me along the way.

The main question I have received upon telling people this (after clarifying that yes, I do actually plan on doing this and no, I am not crazy) is WHY?

And this question is not unjustified either, I have asked myself the same thing over and over again as the date of departure creeps closer and closer. I will be the first to admit it, I am terrified. I can make this trip sound so romantic, dreamy, courageous, and many other enviable traits, but the reality is that this is scary; this is going to be extremely hard. There are going to be days I will wish that I had never left home, never gotten out of my bed, never said goodbye to my parents, and never abandoned everything that made me comfortable in life. There is one thing that I know even though the trip has not yet begun: I will never regret this decision.

I could have stayed at my job in the Bay and lived comfortably, but this is the path I have chosen. So to answer the ubiquitous question, which follows me like a shadow wherever I go, I have four things to say.

  1. I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I am not living. This quote from Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close has resonated in my heart like the rattle of little Oskar’s tambourine since I first read this magnificent book my first year at UC Berkeley. My bones, my body, my mind, and my spirit ache with the weight of not knowing the many paths that my life could lead me down. I plan to go to graduate school and get a doctorate and after that seek a professorship for the rest of my days. While a majority of the people I know are now desperately pursuing a lifelong career, I have found myself unwilling to tie myself to one thing. There are so many things in life I want to do and be that after graduate school I may never get to experience. So I have decided to put real life on hold and go adventure for a while. I do not want to be one thing, I want to be many and I hope to never cease changing in my life. As an English major (aka major book nerd) I have always felt that the most amazing result of reading is that the reader is able to live a thousand different lives through the novels they immerse themselves in throughout their own finite life. I have lived the lives of others both real and imaginary, some more than once, but I have yet to live my own.
  2. Desperately seeking self. Perhaps it is cliche to seek yourself on the open road, or perhaps there is a wisdom in this repetition that proves success. I never feel so inspired than when my wheels are spinning on the pavement and my mind is whirling with thoughts heavily lined with the experiences of yesterday. A solo road trip is obviously a lot of alone time, which both terrifies me and intrigues me with the possibilities of unformed experiences. I have to communicate with me; there is no way around it, no where to run or hide. I am an introspective and introverted person, so this isn’t exactly new to me, but lately I have found myself wrapped around the fingers of others. As time has passed and I have dedicated less time to writing and creating, I have found myself throwing all of my time into others. This is not to say I should not have done this, or that I regret doing this, but I have lost the confidence in being alone that I once had. I have shelved my purpose, my pursuits, and my identity for far too long and traveling alone allows me to be selfish in a way I have not been able to be in a long time. I want to recover the entirety of who I once was and learn how to live a life that is fully mine.
  3. I am a strong young women building my inner independence from the ground (or road) up. Let’s be honest, the main reason people ask me why in the world I would do this is the same reason I have to do this: I am a woman, alone, and the world isn’t always nice to solo women trying to find their place in the world. People ask me, aren’t your parents scared for you? and I can see the real question in their eyes and implied in their words, there is a lot of danger that I am courting just because I am a young woman with no one to watch my back, no one to protect me, no one to stave off the danger of cat calls, rude and greedy eyes, lecherous thoughts of strangers, and the unknown/unpredictable mishaps that could occur on the road. This, however, is the very reason I must go. Yes, I am a woman, yes I can do this on my own. I am capable, strong, independent, cautious, wise, and fear will not hold me back. I am a part of this world and I am going to take part in it. Hiding at home will never change the way the world perceives women. To think that my blog in any way will affect this though is naive and not what I am getting at. What I want this blog to do over the next couple of months is serve as an example that women can do anything. I am just one of many women who has chosen to take to the road alone and just as those women who have served as an example for me, I hope that I can help at least one other woman see that they can do it too. To help show just one person, even if that one person is myself, that it is totally worth it is all I want to achieve.
  4. I am an adventurer and nothing is going to stop me, not even myself. A lot of people see me as someone who is unafraid, outgoing, adventurous, and motivated. In truth, I struggle with all of these things greatly. But still, I must go. Crippled by anxiety, scared, small, often sick, and indecisive, I am horrified by things that are unknown and uncontrollable. But still, I must go. Unable to let go of control and filled to the brim with nervousness, I am unsure about everything I am about to embark on over the next few months. But still, I must go. Why? Why. why. No matter how scared, nervous, chronically in pain, or unsure I am, I am only sure that I must go. Because I am an adventurer; because the road has been calling my name since my mother first introduced me to it six years ago; because I am my own worst enemy and adversaries exist to bring out the best in us; because I am not living my life if I let my fear, anxiety, or illness win. These are the things I know. For some reason my heart picked adventure and I cannot say no, even if the rest of my being is against it.

In some ways, this post is more for me than for you. I am my harshest critic, the one with the most to lose in this, but also the one with the most to gain. I guess you can say this is my manifesto, or simply a reminder for those dark days when all I want to do is give up or cry in a corner. This is my reminder that I can do this, that this is exactly what I want and need, and that no matter where I find myself, I am still me, I am still strong, and I will keep moving.

By the time you read this, I am already gone. Another white streak across the sky, tumbleweed rolling down the road, a stranger in a car window disappearing in the opposite direction. I will see you all again, some sooner rather than later, and hope that you will embark on this journey with me in one form or another.

Ultimately, there are a thousand reasons why I should not go and only one that underlies all of the reasons of why I should: I must. I have told myself a thousand times that I would and now it is hear and there is no backing down. So here I go, down the rabbit hole. Unsure of where it will lead me, this road is the path I have chosen; through all of the exciting loops and digressions, through all the wrong ways and misadventures, through all the new friends and unfriendly strangers, through all the beautiful sights I will see and the empty expanses of nothing, I have chosen this path and now I must follow it to its end.

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York: Part Two

Tuesday, August 5th, 2014

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The entirety of a day lay before me, the whole of a city yet to be explored was my wondrous opportunity, so with feet to the cobblestones that lined these streets I set out to conquer every avenue in York.

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The town was wondrously fairytale-like with banners of flags draped across courtyards bringing color to the old buildings that appeared on every street corner. IMG_3706

I felt like no matter where I wandered there was some mysterious building calling my attention away. With no object except exploration in mind, there is so much to discover in a place such as York because everything is new, yet old at the same time. I think in some small way I loved York deeply because it made me feel like how I felt while in Rome; like anything was possible in a world caught between the old and the new of infinite wonders. IMG_3711

After a small jaunt of aimless wandering I made my way to the Museum Garden Park, which is a wonderful little area along the river that is lined with museums, flowers, and ruins standing tall and monolithically pervading over all who passed in the shadow it cast on the green lawns. There were people everywhere lounging laughing, and soaking up the good weather cast down by the sun’s rays.

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I spent a while walking around the ruins, looking into ancient fortress walls and towers left behind by the mercy of time.

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When I returned to the main part of the park area I was surprised to see a birds of prey exhibit, which meant that there was a tent where a bunch of huge birds and small ones where on display. IMG_3757

This little guy was probably my favorite, he had a lot of energy and wanted nothing to do with his perch.

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The owl was the funniest and I actually got to hold him, which was really incredible yet scary because he was not exactly pleased to be so surrounded by people. IMG_3778

He was very vocal as well, constantly screeching and reeling his head around to stare down some innocent passerby.

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This little one with the big dark eyes was absolutely silent, he watched quietly all of the people without the slightest sound as his loud companion, the great horned owl squawked up a storm. IMG_3796

After enjoying the birds, I returned to the famous walls of York to take a walk around the city to observe the center from the outside. IMG_3842

It seemed like from almost every angle on the wall you could see the impressive spires of York Minster peeking out from behind brick buildings or through tree branches covered in small blossoms.

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I loved every little street or alley way I wandered down, everything was so incredibly quaint.IMG_3872 IMG_3879

I got to see some of the most historical places in York aside from its ancient walls, like these white houses below which are the oldest buildings in York. IMG_3886

Also an incredible old church with box style pews and crooked floors where the dead where buried under each slab of stone. IMG_3889

After getting to see all of these sights I stopped for a quick lunch break and got my first taste of fish n’ chips at a lovely little place with the biggest portions ever. IMG_3891

With a trough like box full of fries and fried fish I sat in a cute courtyard surrounded by little ice cream vendors with a direct line of sight to York Minster looming in the distance. IMG_3897

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Next on my agenda were the famous York Shambles, a small area with crooked leaning houses looming over a cobblestone street lined with adorable shops. But while taking a short break, wherein I talked randomly with an elderly woman about her garden and her children, I got to take in the sights of the market just outside of the shambles. IMG_3941

The Shambles where like every picture in a story book of England I had ever seen before, and they were maybe my favorite thing in York. IMG_3917

It was a small street, but I wandered up and down it again feeling like I was strolling through a story book trying to understand when exactly my life became a fairy tale. It is a strange thing to realize that suddenly you are leading a life that is everything you had hoped it would be, but you still cannot really believe that life truly belongs to you.  IMG_3926

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After my breath taking time in the Shambles I returned to the garden area to see that the birds of prey were now released from their perches and where casually hopping around on the grass freely. There was a exhibit going on where the bird keepers where showing off the skills of the birds and it was pretty fun to watch, like the low flying skill of the Great Horned Owl. IMG_3968

Or the diving and swooping of an Arizona Kestrel Hawk snatching food from the keeper’s hand in a flash of feathers.

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The rest of my time in York was spent wandering up and down every street that I could find, weaving my way across the fabric of this wonderful little place. IMG_3950

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Finally I made my way to my last stop of the day, York Minster, the towering cathedral that is the most impressive sight in York aside from its walls. IMG_3953

I had decided to go to an evening song service, so instead of going inside I marvel at the exterior and then decided to get some afternoon tea to kill time until the service. IMG_3815

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I stopped to get some good ol’ tea and scones with clotted cream and jam since I had already had the classic fish n’ chips I figured why not go for all of the english classics? The waiter was super nice and I stayed in the tea shop for about an hour and a half just savoring the peacefulness of tea and the view of the Minster right outside of the window lined with colorful flowers.IMG_3981

When the time came I left behind my new friends at the tea shop and went to the cathedral for service.

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The inside was massively impressive but I wasn’t really supposed to take pictures because I hadn’t paid to get in since I was attending a service which is free. There was a majestic beauty in the immense stain glass and the high arching stone of the interior that matched the exterior I had been marveling at all day from afar. IMG_3991

The service was beautiful and the surroundings unbelievable, I was sad to have to leave by the end.

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The bells of the church, the song of the choir still ringing in my ears as I boarded my train back to my temporary home outside of London was a perfect way to conclude my time in York. The entire train ride back I marveled at how incredibly lucky I am to be able to see the things I saw. The sun descended behind the train as we rocketed homeward, closing the final light on my adventure to York, but as I closed my eyes that night back in my bed, I knew it only meant there would be a new adventure tomorrow.

 

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Sundays in the City: The Mission District

Monday, September 2nd, 2013

Every Sunday I go into the city of San Francisco to go to my home church, Reality SF. Located on the border of the Mission and Castro District, my church is central to some pretty cool things in the heart of San Francisco. Because I go weekly into San Francisco, I have decided to explore this giant city that is right across the bridge from Berkeley, yet seems a world away at the same time. Thus Sundays in the City is born as an effort of exploration and discovery outside of my Berkeley bubble.

For my very first Sunday in the City I decided to go on a Mural Walk in the Mission District. I had heard about an alley way called Balmy Alley that was supposed to be full of dazzling murals. However I made a few stops before heading deep into the heart of the Mission District. I visited Taqueria La Cumbre, a taqueria featured on the Food Network Show, Man vs Food for a carne asada burrito. Nothing special there, pretty standard. And of course the next thing on my mind was coffee, coffee, coffee. I soon learned that the original Philz, my all time favorite coffee shop, was only a mile and a half away from my church, so I decided it would be the next leg of my journey.

Located on 24th and Folsom, right near Balmy Alley, my final destination, I found the original Philz!

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This quirky coffee shop never fails to make my heart happy, and this one in particular was full of eccentricities. Every inch of wall painted in muralistic fashion from ballerinas to trees, floor to ceiling was covered in great paintings. I stopped inside for a break from walking and some studying. I was even luck enough to get a free Mocha Tesora due to a mix up in orders.

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After reading some Hemingway, I returned to the task at hand and departed to begin my exploration of the mission district. Wandering from bookstore to record store, Latino grocery stands, and all sorts of other interesting shops I kept an eye out for murals.

Then I found Balmy Alley, an expanse of street that was tiny but entirely covered in beautifully vibrant murals. Ranging from political and social protests in art to silly children’s murals, every inch of wall was covered in the vivid paint of these creative minds. This was my favorite view of the alleyway with the bold proclamation of REJOICE! watching from overhead. Between the dazzling murals and the flowers framing them, it was quite a sight to see.

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I wandered up and down the alley way several times just absorbing the color and the passion behind the brush strokes of each mural. It was astounding to see these works of art all of the place. It wasn’t just in the alley way either, it was all over the Mission District. Tucked away down quiet streets, bounding across the tall buildings’ walls, or on old decrepit wooden fences, they were everywhere.

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I had a lot of fun taking in all of the art but eventually I made the trek back to the bart station and sat exhausted but fulfilled the entire way back home to Berkeley. I found there is a grand difference between going to a place and getting to know it. I have been to San Francisco so many times but never truly dug down deep into the city to learn its outline like I am starting to now. Even though I encountered a couple of creepy, scary things (people being rude and creepy to me, a girl alone, wandering some of the sketchy streets of San Francisco unwittingly), it was still a great adventure and I wouldn’t change a thing.

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I love nothing more than exploring and discovering new things and after my first Sunday in the City I really am just hungry for new and more journeys out into San Francisco. There is so much to be seen, appreciated, and enjoyed that I cannot wait to return again and reclaim the pieces of my heart that I left scattered in the mysterious street corners of San Francisco. This last mural really spoke true to my heart and I cannot wait to go again.

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Happy Mother’s Day

Sunday, May 12th, 2013

Dear Mom,

You are my best friend, my travel buddy, my partner in crime, and the light of my life. I love you in more ways than words can express. I am sorry I can’t be there in person to tell you everything I have to say, but I can start here; Happy Mother’s Day.

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We have traveled the country together, long hours in the car that never got boring or tiresome because we always had something to talk about and even if we didn’t we both enjoyed the silence and the company of one another other. We have wandered down creek beds, climbed trees, fixed flat tires, run across so many different surfaces that I cannot even begin to think of all their names. And oh the places we have gone, the places you have showed me, enjoyed with me and the memories that I have of you, with you, that I will remember and cherish for the rest of my life.

Like the hellish hikes that we simultaneously horribly regret, yet remember with heart filling laughs even though it was horrible at the time. The adventures that failed, but led us to all new places and things.

I love the times when we can be silly, climbing trees, hijacking tractors in the deepest part of the Bryce Canyon, and shamelessly chasing down every roadside attraction we can find.
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Oh the places we have been. How many backdrops have we seen that belong in fairytales? How many times have we watched sunsets in places that are straight out of story books? How many times have I wished to always be back in the places we have been, while always looking forward to our next adventures?

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Caught between the wonderful life you have given me, lived in with me, and the story books found in photography shops or souvenir stores, you have always been there for me. The every faithful travel buddy, the worried mother, the excited best friend, you are everything that I love in life.

Jumping over rattlesnakes and standing waist deep in the Zion Narrows, you and I have been through everything, and I wouldn’t change anything about it.
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You have been there for me in the hardest moments, followed me down the most treacherous paths, squeezed yourself down corridors that seemed impassible just to show me it could be done.  You are incredible, you are super woman, you are my mother.
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I could never wish for anything more than the life you have given me, the oppurtunities I have been blessed to have with you. The coffee and beignets in New Orleans, the trolley car rides, the rivers we have stood at, the canyons we have overlooked, the wildlife we have gaped at, and the world you have shown me. There are too many memories for me to describe, too many things for me to talk about and how much I appreciate every single second of the time we have spent together.
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I love our family, I love the loving home you and Dad have given me, the loving upbringing and the support you have given me my entire life; even when I didn’t realize you were my biggest supporter and friend.
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You make me laugh like no one else I know. How many different ways can I say that I love you? I hope you know that without me ever having to say it. Even when I am away for months at a time, I hope the wind will carry my words to you and carry my love to you so that you always know you are cherished and appreciated.
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I wonder where we will go next, I wonder what is in store for us in the future.
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There are so many wonderful times in the past, but I know you and I have even more memories to be made in the future. Even if it isn’t on the road or out in the back country or by a river bed, we will always have the bond that is unbreakable, the bond between a mother and her daughter.
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The bond between best friends who know exactly how to make you smile and dance even in the most difficult moments.
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The bond between you and I will last the rest of our lives, as will the memories we have and the ones we have yet to make.

You are my inspiration, my hope, my love, my light. I love you mom more than words can say. I wish I could hug you and tell you in person, and I miss you all the time. You are such a wonderful mother and I hope you know that I thank God every day for giving me you.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Your Eternally grateful and loving Daughter,

Monica

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