• Left of East- An Introduction

    In the summer of 2013, I embarked on a solo backpacking adventure across Northern Michigan. With no one to talk to along the way, my journal became a powerful and necessary companion. I wrote journal nearly every day, sometimes many times a day, to capture the events and insights of my time on the trail […]

  • One Cry Fix All

    My submission to The Moth Detroit StorySLAM topic: “Blood Sweat and Tears” When you go through a difficult time in your life, your body naturally deals with it by going into shock. This is a beautiful response because it allows you to go on with your life and get through every day when you’re not […]

  • A Real New Yorker

    They say you’re not a real New Yorker until you’ve cried in public.

  • CH@NGE

    The mathematical symbol for change is a neat little triangle Δ. I can remember drawing it on my notebook with a pencil. The teacher told us what it meant, and we took her work for it, but I wondered why, if we were describing change, did my pencil end up back where it started. There has […]

  • Light on Blight

    I grew up in a sweet, serene, safe community: a bastion of purity in small-town Michigan. We had no world-class issues. The police blotter in the local paper was comedically innocent: “raccoon topples garbage can,” “local man double-parks van.” But not too far away, trouble loomed large. Detroit, with its towering tombs was a shame to […]

  • On Solitude

    People, like deer and celebrities, tend to cluster amongst themselves. Anytime you should encounter a sitcom star, be still! Lower your gaze. Chances are good that his Emmy-winning girlfriend and the whole supporting cast will come trundling after.

Day 6: Pickerel Lake to Landslide Lookout

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7-11 sunsetI’m only a mile or two from the 45th parallel, I can feel its energy. The invisible line between the Equator and the North Pole is a symbol to me, a sign of passing from my old life into my new. It’s a way of making a fresh start. I can’t wait to cross it tomorrow.

I’m camping illegally, as in, not in a designated campsite, but it’s a beautiful spot, I’m not close to any official sites, the sun is setting, and I don’t want to go any further.

Continue reading →

Day 4: Sand Lake to Log Lake

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I got lost again today, in more ways than one.

Screen Shot 2014-07-11 at 11.57.07 AMThroughout the day, I lost the trail a few times, once by a surprisingly wide margin. After blundering awhile with my compass and map, I found myself on a long paved road. But what road was it? I snuck a look in someone’s mailbox and to check the address on their mail and figure out what street I was on. Clever trick right? Yes, but the road on the envelope wasn’t labeled on the map, so it did me no good. Continue reading →

Day 3: Traverse City to Sand Lake

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Up until today, I have been hiking on biking trails, streets, and awkward connecting paths to get me to the North Country Trail. Just before setting up camp for the night7-8_NCTsign, I saw my first trail official trail marker- exciting stuff!

Ok, that concludes my obligatory positive-thinking opening remarks. Now, I want to focus on all the shit that I’ve screwed up already.

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Days 1 and 2: Sutton’s Bay to Traverse City

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My first night camping! My tent is pitched (hung) and my little stove is fired up, cooking a meal of ramen noodles and sardines. I am proud and happy.

firstday-departureYesterday, walked the 20-some miles from Sutton’s Bay to Traverse City. The first casualty of procrastination is sleep, and I lost almost all of it the night before last as I tried lamely to prepare for whatever it is I am now attempting to do. I sat in the middle of a room with my gear all around me and tried to make sense of it all. There was packaging everywhere, since pretty much everything was brand-new and I figured out what to put where and if it would all fit while half-watching “Summer Magic” with Mom. The next morning, I woke up ready to go and utterly fearless. I think it was a mix of excitement, shock, determination and sleep deprivation, but my brain was laser-focused on “this is it!” I thought of leaving directly from the rental house that my family was staying at, even though the is no trail for 10 miles from there, but that extra distance would have made it too hard for me to get to Traverse City in one day, and it would also have meant walking down the same road that my family would later drive down, and there is something about that picture that would definitely have killed Mom. So, we ended up all leaving together- me, Mom, Dad, Nikki, and Sarah. They drove me to my trailhead at Sutton’s Bay, and pulled over on the side of the road at my trailhead. After some surreal goodbyes, I started walking and they drove away. Continue reading →

Are We Capable of Us?

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prty

One day into new love’s joys
I start to overanalyze
So far, it’s come too easily
My hope is guarded carefully

I wish I could see in advance
so I don’t have to take a chance.
Without wasting all that time
perhaps we’d spare your heart, or mine.

If I give myself to you-
Will it last? Can I be true?
Will it ever be enough?
Are we capable of us?

So come, look in my eyes awhile.
And don’t you speak, no do not smile.
I want to know what I will see
And if you will look back at me.

On Sitting

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image

Nature provides precious few opportunities to sit. When out-of-doors, one either stands or lies down; there is very little in-between.

When we go into nature to reconnect with the earth, we are prepared to do without syndicated sitcoms and carbonated drinks, but we often fail to anticipate the lack of seating. At the end of a long hike, you may become compelled to rest your legs as you take in a pleasant vista. And yet, lest you are possessed with great insight and packed along a folding chair along the way, you are unlikely to find adequate seating. Any self-respecting woodsman will concur: nature is BYOChair. Continue reading →

Breaking Out

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hasidsHasidic Jews are a fascinating subculture in the melting pot that is New York City. These people brace themselves against the heavy current of the modern city with strong social order and a highly insular community. Densely Hasidic areas in Brooklyn were once considered remote but the geographical boundaries that protected them have faded as the city grows and encroaches on their once-isolated neighborhoods. Now the Hasids in Brooklyn (much like the Chinese in Chinatown) must rely on a combination of intra-community lending practices and their profound strangeness to protect them from being swept away. Continue reading →

Pants (The Second Installment)

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In a city as flat as New York, bridges represent pretty much the only hills that bikers face. Among bridges, the Williamsburg boasts the most challenging uphill climb for bikers (according to me).

The Williamsburg Bridge is over mile long. The road bearing cars and trucks is relatively level, the subway line is offset slightly above the road, and the pedestrian pathway rises above them all. Foot and bike traffic follows a steep route consisting of three segments, with a strong slant on either end and a moderately lower grade in the middle.

Scrambling up that incline one morning on my way to work, I was surprised to see another bike gaining on me. I’m a competitive person and I enjoy the sport of passing other bikers– especially men– so I was surprised to see a woman closing the gap between us.

I picked up my pace to try to shake her but she caught up in spite of my efforts. She pulled abreast, and faced me as we continued pedaling aggressively, then, with bated breath she said “I just had to tell you….GASP…..your pants….GASP….are totally see-through!”

And with that, she slowed down and faded into the distance.

Trying to Let it Out

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When I got married at the very young age of 21, I meant every word in my vows. When we celebrated our 5th anniversary, I thought we might someday celebrate our 50th. Divorce was not a milestone either of us ever expected to reach. So when I moved out of the apartment my husband and I shared, it was confusing and traumatic and deeply painful for both of us. Only weeks later, I was in a serious car accident. Heading to a New Year’s Eve party along the oceanfront Pacific Coast Highway in LA, the car I was in slammed into the side of another car making a poorly-timed left turn across our lane. We were incredibly lucky: everyone was wearing their seat-belt, no one was intoxicated, no one was driving above the speed limit, and no one was seriously injured. Except me. Continue reading →