Mein Tile.

    Just the other day, I had gotten a hair cut from a very pretty girl at the hair college and then opted to walk down the the public library and see if they had a couple books I've been wanting to read. I got done with the hair cut at 9:30 and the route I took to the the place where knowledge lives (not the brain house) took me roughly fifteen minutes. I felt a mild sense of adventure as I wandered through alleys the morning light had yet to touch and slunk through restricted access areas of parking garages. When I finally reached the from door of the downtown library I was shocked to see it didn't open till 10! I still had fifteen minutes till open.
     So I just continued on my way knowing a quick walk through downtown would be an easy time killer. It was kind of interesting to see all my favorite bars closed up, knowing full well that these very side walks would be filled with tight jeans, short skirts and drunk partiers in less than 12 hours. I rounded the corner near a new Ramen joint I must try and then found myself on the corner of Centennial Mall and M street. There I was, looking up at our giant, less than vaguely phallic, capital building and all of a sudden I am filled with any overwhelming sense of place.
    I was standing on an insignificant street corner in a less than large capital of an under-populated state in an equally underpopulated region of the United States. My country, fairly large and dense with people, is only one of three on this continent, one of seven total. Only seven on the only planet yet discovered that supports life. We circle a single star, one of a seething roil of countless balls of light that fill the black, abyssal universe. Needless to say, that is a lot to have sink in on a Saturday morning walk.
     Its not that I have never realized it before, I actually think about it quite often. This time was different. It seemed heavier. Thick and tangible. As I continued my jaunt I wondered to myself how many other people recognize this. How many people are fully aware of where we are in the universe? How many people think about this stuff on  regular basis? I am sure more than a handful are just like me, but I'd wager that most have never had the idea cross their mind.
      There is a man, Dr. David Wishart, whom I infinitely respect; he teaches geography at my college and once said something that made me more than a little sad. He relayed to our class that hardly anyone has a sense of place anymore. They go on runs down wooded trails but their ears are plugged with head phones. People walk up and down city streets peering down at their smart phones. The do not hear the wind in the trees, nor do they see the bustle around them. People become absorbed in the tiny bubble that they have created for themselves.
     This can lead to strange consequences like disassociation of where one is, where they came from, why they are there and how they interact and effect the world around them. Why do people do this to themselves? I have no idea. Maybe its safe and sound when you have a false control over what you see and hear. Maybe its an ingrained need to stay connected to others, after all we are social creatures. Perhaps being conscious of the knowledge of exactly where one is in existence is too heavy a burden for some to bear.
     Do me a favor. Next time you are out and about just sit and think about where you are. Close your eyes and listen to your surroundings, take the time and look at the finer details of the world around you and think for a second why that matters to you or you matter to it.

A walk down a forested path, or "how I get lost..."

   Finally I feel like its safe to say that spring is upon us. I am sitting here and as we speak the temperature is gradually reaching into the 70's. Thank the gods. Yesterday it was nice enough for me to venture forth into the wilderness and go on my first real hike of the year.
    I almost always like to stick close to the river, I have always had a fondness for water and fate probably missed the boat by not making me a fish. Right now the water is still frozen solid on the surface but life is already waking beneath the frozen sheet. I came across a young man fishing through a hole in the ice and I sat watched him creepily with my phone camera poised to catch the act of pulling a fish from the river. It never happened. Too bad.
     After climbing some trees and steep embankments I came across the undeniable scent of skunk. I am by no means an expert tracker, but I do share a name with wolverine and decided I would try and follow my nose. I successfully tracked the skunk to its den. On second thought I may have been smelling a skunk victim, but alas I did not find the smelly culprit.
     I did however, stumble across an archaeological site. It appears to be a trash dump littered with bottles and automotive parts. I know it doesn't sound exciting but it is so deal with it. Using the bases of some bottles I was able to place it somewhere within the realm of the mid 1950's. Not anything super old but technically anything over 50 years old counts.
    Afterwards I bushwhacked back to the jeep and rewarded myself with a mint chip cliff bar. Mmmmmm. I suggest to all of you that you get outside and take some time to see what you can find. Don't be afraid to travel off the beaten path and poke around where you might not think you should. Just finding little mysteries in the world or maybe things you've never seen before can make the whole day worth it.

A Grand Ole' Time, or A Few signs You are over the Hill...

     Being from Nebraska, today is a pretty big day. On March 1st one hundred and forty-seven years ago, Nebraska was changed from being part of a territory to an official state. It became the 37th state in the union in 1867. The capital was also officially moved from Omaha to Lancaster, which would later be renamed to Lincoln shortly after President Abraham Lincoln's assassination. When people think of Nebraska they don't think of much. It is something of a curse placed upon states in the mid-west and Great Plains. Sure there is a lot of flat ground, there are a lot of corn fields and there aren't a lot of big cities or anything like that. But Nebraska and the rest of the plains states have a rich history full of exploration and excitement. It is easy to see why people like places like Arizona, or Maine, or California. The scenery there is dramatic and awe inspiring. We don't have that here in the plains, it takes a special kind of appreciation to enjoy what the plains have to offer. For us its not generally the sweeping scenery but the minute details that make up the landscape.
     The plains has a long history of settlement by the various Native tribes such as the Pawnee, Sioux, Omaha, Mandan, Otoe, Winnebego and many others. I am not super qualified to speak on the history of the plains Indians but I do know that their mark has been left all across the face of my home state. The first Europeans to cross were Spaniards that followed Francisco Vasquez de Coronado on his quest for Cibola, the golden city. On his way through the Great Plains he crossed Oklahoma and Kansas searching for Quivira, the golden city. Then would come the French-Canadian explorers and trappers that traversed Nebraska on their was south and west. Later, Lewis and Clark would travel down the Missouri River on their way west. There are a number of state parks and camp sites that are placed on the very spots that the legendary duo stayed at on their expedition.
     Perhaps one of the most dramatic events in American History is the westward expansion on the Oregon Trail. In order to travel the trail and make it to one of its many destinations, one had to be prepared. Unfortunately, many of the settlers would not be. Whether it be from lack of supplies, sickness or some other hardship, many people decided to stay in the Great Plains and make their home. This led to an influx of settlers in Nebraska and other plains states. Another side effect of the Oregon Trail comes in the form of my favorite kinds of stories, treasure legends. You see, when rich people from the East decided to move out west via the trail, they brought all of their most expensive belongings. Soon the would realize it was either their stuff or their lives. Choosing life, they buried their valuables in caches across the plains hoping to return. Most never did, so their antiquities still  remain buried beneath the fields and rolling hills waiting to be uncovered. You can still see ruts in the ground from the Oregon Trail in a few places across Nebraska.
     In modern times, in all honesty, Nebraska doesn't look like much. It has a super low number of public land acres and only a few parks, its only state forest is hand planted. However, if one takes the time (and gas), it is easy to get lost on the meandering dirt roads that lead to far and away homesteads, abandoned cemeteries and Native American camp sites. There are a multitude of organizations that are attempting to restore the people's want to explore the world and find the little things that still remain mostly hidden or forgotten and renewing our since of exploration. So on this day, March 1, 2014, I say Happy Birthday Nebraska. We may not get along all the time, we may never see eye to eye and sometimes I might get bored of your presence...but I still love you because I have seen the beauty that you keep hidden from all but those who choose to look.

Oregon Trail Ruts in Rock Creek, NE

 \
Coronado's Route

 
 Lewis and Clark's Route

Chimney Rock National Monument

Cabin Fever, or "A Winter's Tale"

     As my fellow Mid-westerners know all too well, it is the dead of winter. In fact, we have a recent wave of frigid cold and layers of snow that dwarf any from earlier in the season. This generally puts a damper on the outdoor adventures. It isn't so much the cold or frozen snow that keeps me inside. Its other people. It seems to me that during the warmer months the majority of people completely forget how to drive n snow and ice. Far more dangerous than the freezing temps and blistering wind are the people who drive atop layers of frozen water as though it were normal road surface. This make for a nerve wracking, tiresome slog to the nearest trail head, all of which I am intimately familiar with. I have recently returned from a long stint of work in New Mexico where I spent every day exploring the high plains. It has been a rough couple months since then, readjusting to a mundane life and erratic work schedule. It doesn't help that when I get the time, the weather is at its worst.So how do I get my fix during these hard times?
     Recently I have rediscovered a show on Netflix that I adored as a teenager, Destination Truth. The premise is that a group of people, led by intrepid adventurer Joshua Gates, travel the globe in search of the truth behind mysteries and legends. A lot of people scoff at the fact that people still believe and search for things a kin to big foot. I will tell you that I a firm believer that there are things in the world that we have yet to discover. In this technological world we have created, it is easy to fall into the misconception that we have found all there is to find in the world.  With Google Maps able to give us a birds eye view of nearly everywhere in the world we can forget that places exist that have yet to be explored. While the Amazon Rainforest is rapidly shrinking, there a vast tracts that are untouched, the Himalayas, the Congo, even parts of Canada are unexplored. While the cast of Desitnation Truth never truly finds "the thing", some of the episodes do bring to light some unexplainable evidence.
      Watching the explorers jump from Brazil to Zambia to Vietnam definitely helps ease the wanderlust that is tugging at my heart. It also causes a tinge of jealousy to rise in my heart. I would really like to know how these people get approached to do these kinds of shows! I am more than willing to uproot everything and globe trot, to anyone who might be reading! Travel shows like the one I mentioned also give a nice, quick view of the far off places that the world has to offer. Did you know that there is a lake in the Congo the size of Connecticut? Me neither, till this morning. I also really enjoy watching the interactions of people from the United States and say...the Nepalese. The meeting of two different cultures is fun to watch, but some can be quite agitating. I am not usually one to sit in front of the tube and watch TV shows, but with little else to do it is nice to see a little bit of the world and learn something at the same time.
     Fortunately for me, spring is upon us and soon I will back at my summer job where I will be outside every day. Then as fall rolls around, I will be taking off to a new destination for Graduate School and a new place to explore will be at hand. Right now I am sitting and looking out the window and dreaming of fish by the lake, scuba diving and hiking...ugh....spring you could not come sooner...

Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie...

     As many of you know, I have been hired as a field surveyor on an archaeological project in New Mexico. This is my first job as a professional archaeologist and is quite exciting. I have already done one 8 day session but unfortunately I did not bring my computer nor my camera. I can assure you that it was a fantastic first week on the job despite the nearly constant presence of rain. We are surveying ground for a windmill farm that is taking us across a multitude of ranch land in central New Mexico. The majority of our findings are depression era relics however we have also found many stone tools from wandering Native Americans. Today was a particularly exciting day; firstly because I brought my camera and secondly because we found a site that told a story. I am going to share that story with you now.

     In the early 1900's the railroads passed through and bought up all the land alongside the tracks. Eventually this land was sold to people all over the country, but mostly back east with the promise that the land would be fertile for years to come. Many of these men and women took to growing beans; think pinto, not soy. This worked fine for awhile, however the elevation of the area keeps the annual rainfall fairly low and eventually the farmland was drying up. Then comes the Dust Bowl and Great Depression. These hard times cause many people to drop everything and leave, some head back east, others west as migrant workers. The remnants of this era are scattered about the empty short grass prairie.
     My day started out relatively normal as far as survey goes. We drove our truck down some lonely dirt roads that snake between large tracts of grassland. We parked, we got out, we line up and then marched in lines. For the first hour or so we found nothing, which seems to be the norm out here. A herd of female Pronghorns trotted by and a very short distance, followed closely by two ever watchful males. Shortly after we met the owner of the property who has lived on this land all his life; we all guess he was pushing his 80's. His father moved out here and bought the land in 1913 and started out as a bean farmer but turned to cattle when the farming looked bleak. This is one of the few families the survived through the Dust Bowl.

Remains of Model T

1930's wheel well/running board

     In another 45 minutes of walking we began to see scatterings of objects on our transects. The first being an old trash pile with the remains of a Model T Ford as its center piece. Later we found the wheel well and running board of a 1930's style luxury car. Atop the next hill appears to be some kind of structure that our boss guesses is the homestead to which the trash belongs to. As we get close the debris become more frequent. We start seeing old fruit or meat cans, Prince Albert tobacco and shattered glass jars. Upon finally reaching the top of the long rolling hill we come upon the place where someone once tried to make a home.
    The bodies of two old farm trucks; one a Ford, the other likely a Chevy, sit rusting away. A well
sits unused, still filled with water, and a scattering of large stones and a deep depression marks where

the dugout that the family lived in once stood. Among the artifacts that we found were broken china with intricate flower patterns, broken wine bottles, cosmetic jars, a belt buckle, a marble, various tools. Now I love the mystery found in a scattering of prehistoric pottery and flaked stone, but those kinds of artifacts leave behind a lot of guess work. Here we had a story of people who tried to make a living in a far away place and failed. These people are likely remembered by someone, their records left behind in a census or bill of sale or some such thing. This makes the site more personal and easier to access in a number of ways. This isn't the only sign of the tragedies of the Dust Bowl, not but 3 miles away is another abandoned farmstead. These are the sad, lonely reminders of one of the worst hard times in

Remains of Dugout House

American History.


















Here are some other pictures from the day...

An Age Undreamed of....

 

     "Know, O Prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the gleaming cities, and the rise of the Sons of Aryas, there was an Age undreamed of, when shining kingdoms lay spread across the world like blue mantles beneath the stars..."
-Robert E. Howard

    About 5 years or so ago, I found myself far away from the home that I had known since my birth. I was lost, no friends, no job, living in my parents house in the desert. I did not like the person that I was and needed a change. One night, I was browsing through movie titles at the local rental place and came across the 1982 version of Conan the Barbarian. From my delving into pulp era literature I knew that the creator of Conan had been dear friends with my favorite author H. P. Lovecraft. I was not huge into fantasy but I picked it up, popped it in the DVD player and then my life had changed. A lot of people will laugh and wonder how a shirtless Arnold Schwarzenegger from the 80's change how I viewed the world, and isn't this a blog about exploration? I am getting to that, so hold your horses.
     Many people write off this film as testosterone driven fantasy, however they are sorely mistaken. This movie tells the story of how a boy becomes a man, how a man becomes a hero, and how, in the end pain and failure are learning tools. The film starts with a quote from Nietzsche, "That which does not kill us makes us stronger...". This is the film's major theme. Director John Milius (who also made Jeremiah Johnson),  uses the character and back drop of Robert E. Howard's pulp era fantasy to tell a Nietschean parable about becoming the best man you can be. It was simply me being in the right frame of mind, and willing to accept the lesson that the story was trying to tell. Along with the brilliant cast and masterwork score by Basil Poledouris, the movie is a cinematic masterpiece that many write off as cheesy and pure fluff without ever taking the time to think about what is on the screen.
    The movie drove me to seek adventure and meaning in the world, to push my limits and discover who I am. After all, isn't that one of the main reasons we explore our universe? To discover who we are, where we came from and what we are meant to be, as a species as well as an individual. This film also led me to the actual writings of Robert E. Howard, another facet in how a barbarian from a lost age changed my life for the better. I bought the Del Rey edition of "The Conquering Sword of Conan" shortly after I had watched the film. For any who have both seen the movie and read the short stories, you already know the difference. For those of you who haven't, the 1982 Conan is the barbarian in name only. Robert E. Howard wrote of a man of the wilds, head strong, intelligent, intellectual and daring. He roved seas, traversed mountains and jungles, was a thief, a pirate, a general and the best king to have ever taken the Aquilonian throne.
     These were stories of adventure, something I so desperately needed in my life. Conan saw places and things that those of the civilized world only dreamed of. That is what I yearned to do. This is how my love for adventure and exploration was born. It is kind of funny how some things can be so meaningful to some. There are many lessons to take from both the movie and the stories and I highly suggest to any who love adventure to seek these out and find out for yourself the greatness of Robert E. Howard and Conan. Perhaps they will inspire you to seek out the dark corners of the Earth and
unseen places like it has myself.

http://www.amazon.com/Coming-Conan-Cimmerian-Original-Adventures/dp/0345461517
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0082198/?ref_=sr_3
www.conan.com

Explorer of the Month: Fish Tales

     So I have been itching for spring to get here so it can finally warm up and I can start fishing. In honor of the arrival of my excitement for fishing I am nominating my favorite fisherman for Explorer of the Month. Fishing isn't usually the first thing that pops into mind when one thinks of exploring. I admit that it wasn't on my radar either until one man convinced me. His name is Jeremy Wade, host of the Animal Planet program River Monsters. Mr. Wade is a biologist by trade, but is also a renown "extreme angler". On his TV show he travels the world in search of over sized fish that may explain local legends and lore about man eating monsters in the the world's river systems. It is not only the travel to exotic, or some times rather mundane locales that makes him an explorer. Just by viewing the show, one can tell that Wade has the utmost interest in not only his quarry, but the stories and people involved.
     One of the most intriguing episodes takes place in Africa where he is fishing for the Goliath Tiger Fish. During this particular adventure, he becomes involved with a local tribe, learns about fishing gangs, hears a story about marauding hippos and handles some of mankind's very first fishing implements. If that does scream exploring, I don't know what does.
    Recently, I had the joy of reading his book "River Monsters: True Stories of the Ones that Didn't get Away". While at first glance, the book appears to simply be a rehash of the first couple seasons of the show. However, the stories he tells are filled with interesting asides and misadventures that Mr. Wade has gone through from his time as a young hopeful obsessed with fishing to the man he is today. We are talking plane crashes, encounters with Natives, and being arrested for espionage. These are things, that while mentioned on the show, are retold in great detail that makes the book interesting on many levels.
     It obvious from the words on the pages that Jeremy Wade had a deep caring for the these giants "monsters" and greatly laments that they are disappearing from the planet and that he may in fact be one of the last people to witness some of these giants. Jeremy Wade is a man, while I do not know him personally, that I look up to. His genuine interest in the world around him and the people within it alone makes him worthy of Explorer of the Month. If you haven't seen the show check it out on Amazon Instant Video, all of the seasons are free to stream with Amazon Prime. Also the book is a great buy for those interested in biology, fishing, or travel writing. It is complete with full color photos of some of his most awesome catches and adventures.

 www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_4_13?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=river+monsters+book&sprefix=river+monster%2Caps%2C341

P.S. Sorry I haven't been posting much content, my very last undergraduate semester is finally coming to a close and I have been quite busy. However, I have several items in the works as well as some guest writers. Stay tuned and hang in there with me! Thanks guys!