Panama!

OY! Hard to believe that already more than 2 weeks have gone by here in Panama, and of course I have lots to tell about my time here. The real struggle isn't having a story to tell – but rather having time to tell it. (And getting you to read it!) I've been keeping pretty busy since I touched down on Oct. 28th and felt the massive heat wave of humidity welcome me to this tropical country. What I would have written on my first day, is drastically different than how I feel now. It’s amazing how quickly a short amount of time can change your outlook on so many things. (This blog covers my first week in the city, and I will follow it shortly with another one about my second week...)

Since I didn't want to take too many photos on first arrival and look like a total tourist, I have less photos than usual. I will nonetheless interject this monologue with random pictures taken here to make you forget how much you are (or probably aren't) reading.

But did you know geckos like to lick spilt beer off the table?

On my first adventure after getting off the plane – I decided to take the bus into town rather than hire a taxi. A taxi would have gotten me directly to where I wanted to go, but there’s no effort involved and it’s roughly 100 times more expensive (25 cents v. $20). So of course, I opted for the bus – and used the directions Lonely Planet provided which were essentially “walk across the street to the bus station.” I figured that meant I would walk across the street, and catch an obvious bus into town. What it really meant was ask 3 or 4 different people “Donde esta el autobus?” and try very hard to sort through the derechas y izquierdas (rights and lefts). I finally made it to the bus station after crossing about 4 streets and exiting through the employee entrance to the airport – but I made it. To the bus station that is, then I had to figure out which bus to get on, how I was going to pay for it, and where to get off. I figured I would ride until I got to the main bus terminal in town – which was called Albrook, and then catch a much cheaper taxi from there to the hostel. 

Thankfully the buses say where they’re going on the front. I tried to get on the first Albrook bus, but got turned away because the bus driver talked faster than I could understand and seemed to point towards the back door. I assumed he was saying something like – “get on in the back, you are blocking everyone with your humongous pack, stupid gringo.” So I went towards the back door but he didn’t open the back door – he just drove off. Lesson learned. Next time a bus came, I was more prepared. I had asked a local if he could swipe his bus card for me, since I didn’t have one and of course they don’t sell them at the airport so that the taxis can scam people. He said something like he only had one swipe left – damn. When the bus came, I hopped on anyhow and offered a dollar to the bus driver – explaining I didn’t have a card. The bus driver looked at the guy I asked, and then the guy swiped his card for me. Wasn’t sure whether to be happy or upset that he had tried to leave me stranded and sweating profusely at the bus stop. I offered him the dollar but he didn’t take it – kind man after all. 

I rode the bus for about an hour or more – clueless as to whether I was even going to Albrook after the first half an hour and countless stops. I saw the Panama City skyline approach and then I saw it fade away as we veered to the right and kept on rolling. I also saw lots of truly local scenery, and it felt great to be absorbing a new place again. After awhile, standing with my hefty pack on got tiring though. Eventually we made it to the bus terminal, where I managed to catch an overpriced $5 cab to my hostel – and happily lifted the heavy bag off my shoulders.

Hustle n bustle

A week later, I have a well-used bus card and I was able to confidently take the bus from my hostel to Albrook, which I used as a jumping off point for a variety of different excursions. Just having the card made a world of difference in my ability to function as a local, which is really what visiting a place should be about – trying to experience the true flavor of a town, even if that flavor is occasionally exhaust fumes and rank garbage on the street. I’m just happy to be out exploring again!

Bridge jumping in Baños, Ecuador - why not?

Sometimes it can be nice to share your attempt to get in touch with the local scene with other non-locals – which is exactly what I did while staying in Panama City. I booked a hostel in Casco Viejo that was highly recommended by Lonely Planet (if they told me to jump off a bridge I probably would – in fact I did, in Ecuador) and seemed like a cool place based on the description. Sure enough, it would turn out to be one of the coolest hostels I have ever stayed in. 

Before I had even checked in, a friendly guy approached me while I was waiting and mentioned that we had been on the same plane. We started chatting, and after checking in and dropping off bags, we headed out to get a bite to eat together… since we were on the same page of being starved from traveling. His name was Steve, and turns out he had also taken a bus into town – but didn’t have quite as much trouble as I did. While walking we bumped into another hostel guest, who joined us on our journey. That’s just the sort of place Luna’s is – people are generally adventurous and kind, and often traveling alone – eager to meet other cool folks along the way.

Back at the hostel I took some time to soak in the sweet ocean view from my bedroom with the city skyline punctuating the background, then joined some others downstairs to chill in the living room with some local Balboa brews. 

Hard to beat a view like this for only $16! That's the president's house next door with the flags

In that first evening alone I made many friends, and heard/shared quite a few awesome travel stories. It was great when a newcomer would ask if I was traveling with Steve or one of the other cool folks we were talking with, sort of awakens you to how quickly you can become comfortable when around the right group. After a few beers I called it a night at a reasonable hour, after all I was technically here on business and had to get up early to head to the Smithsonian office to get registered as an intern and learn more about the work I will be doing here. 

I had another interesting transit experience in the morning, this time in a taxi – not a bus. I will condense this one, since it’s only mildly entertaining, even to me. I was told to go to the Tupper Building, since the Smithsonian has many different facilities throughout Panama. But my taxi driver had no idea what Tupper meant – or where it was. Even the people at the hostel front desk were no help. So I ended up loading the map on my phone and then using that to guide the taxi driver to the building I needed. Even with the GPS in front of him he took quite a few wrong turns, so I was able to easily tell we were going farther from the destination – which was kind of humorous, but mostly annoying. When we finally got close, I saw a Smithsonian sign and told him to head there. “Ooh Smithsonian! Why didn’t you say so in the first place?!” D’uh.

My current employer

I got registered, received my Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute ID card and then waited until one of the leaders of the project, Roberto Ibañez was available to meet with me. A kind man, he offered to take me to Gamboa to see the facility there and meet some of the staff. I jumped at the opportunity, and soon we were cruising down the canal corridor heading north. In the relatively short 45 min drive, I learned a lot about the different work going on in Gamboa and got some great suggestions for things to see and do around Panama City. 

I spent the entire day in Gamboa, fumbling my way through a few Spanish conversations and mostly lending a hand with taking care of the frogs in their collection. It was a nice taste of what will be (was) upcoming at El Valle, where I’ll be (am) working. One of the staff members was celebrating a birthday – so I ate cake for lunch. Sweet!

Feliz Cumpleaños!

That evening after returning to the hostel, I relaxed and met some cool new hostel guests as well as hung out with a few of the folks I’d already met. We took advantage of the 50 cent happy hour beers available at the bar downstairs, and eventually stopped at another bar next door only to be furious at their attempt to charge $4 a beer! No way Jose. (Nah, I had one anyways – what the hell)

Hostel art work in the main chill room

The next morning I ventured out towards the Panama Canal – since I figured that’s something any visitor to Panama should probably see. This was made possible partly by the flexibility of the woman I am currently working for – Heidi Ross Griffith, who encouraged me to take some time to explore the city before coming to El Valle to work. 

So I wandered around a bunch in Casco Viejo, stubbornly determined to find the bus stop – and was eventually successful. I bought a bus card, then headed to Albrook, and took another bus to the canal from there. Each of these transits was a minor accomplishment in itself, practicing getting my point across and once again saving lots of money by avoiding a cab. The canal is huge obviously, but the part that tourists flock to is known as the Mira Flores locks – where you can watch ships pass through the locks if you’re lucky – which of course I was not. You can also tour a 4 floor museum which explained the history behind the canal, and gave fairly detailed information about how it was made. Foreigners have to pay $15 compared to the local $2 (or something like that) – which was kinda wack, but not surprising. 

Panama Canal

Although I wasn’t lucky enough to see a ship pass through the locks, they did fill up while I was there – which was cool to see. Glad I hung around to catch the contrast. The fourth floor deck offered a pretty decent vantage point of the comings and goings of the canal.

Locks filled

Once the locks filled up, I realized that I was probably wasn’t going to see a ship passing through for another hour or so (if that) and I quickly decided that waiting around was not worth being harassed by giggling middle schoolers that wanted to take photos with me. So I took advantage of a break in the rain to head back to the bus stop, and returned to town on a bus. At this point it was only 1 pm or so, and I wasn’t ready to call it a day by any means – so I caught a taxi from Albrook to an area of the city known as “The Causeway” – aka “calzada” which is a thin strip of land that connects three small islets. My destination was a Smithsonian exhibit/property that Roberto had recommended, situated on a small piece of land jutting into the sea, named Punta Culebre. One of the reasons I was keen to visit was because I had heard from multiple sources that it was a good place to see sloths. The walk in offered a cool perspective on the surrounding area – never being too far from the beach or the mountains is part of what makes this country so awesome.

Beach + Mountains = Paradise

Punta Culebre had a variety of different educational focuses, teaching people about conservation and the local wildlife from under the sea to the tops of the trees. They had an aquarium with some sea turtles and nurse sharks – and many interpreters standing by to explain more and answer any questions. I listened politely to his spiel in Spanish – understanding the bulk of it, but not everything. I asked a few simple questions about the ages of the turtles and their health, and then inquired if there were any sloths nearby that he knew of. Sure enough, he led me to a nearby clump of trees and pointed out two different ones. Guess they’re fairly easy to keep tabs on considering they sleep about 15 to 18 hours a day. Must be nice!

Slothin it

I wandered around the peninsula a bit more, taking one of the paths that weaved through a small section of forest while constantly scanning from the ground to the canopy – there are lots of places for creatures to hide in these trees! I did manage to catch an Iguana rustling about above, but soon after I took this photo – the rain started to come down pretty heavily. I found shelter from the storm in a very well designed, obviously new, exhibit on amphibians – perfect! 

Iguana chillen

The amphibian exhibit was very impressive, and I wish I had taken more photos – since exhibit designing is one of the projects I am tasked with in El Valle. Once again a nice interpreter walked me through the entire thing, pointing out the different frogs in their sneaky hiding places in each tank. I was able to understand most of what she told me, but not everything and I didn't want to dumb her talk down to my child-like level of comprehension. Always a constant question when surrounded by a different language how often you try to truly fully comprehend, and how often you just smile/nod and go with the flow. I told her I was going to work in El Valle, so she knew I was gung-ho about frogs from the beginning. They had a very impressive educational lay-out - demonstrating the transformation from tadpole to frog with on-site breeding, and a thorough section that described the effects of the chytrid fungus on amphibians. 

Strawberry poison dart frog (Oophaga pumilio) on exhibit

After chatting with the interpreter a while longer and loading up on frog goodies in the gift shop – I ventured on. Instead of catching a taxi immediately, I opted to walk for a while since the causeway was a rather attractive place for a stroll, lined with palm trees and looking out over the sea.

Cruisin' the causeway

When I reached the end of the road, I hailed a taxi and headed back to the hostel. I got dinner and some beers at the brewery next door, appropriately named "La Rana Dorada" (The Golden Frog). I not only wanted to go - I kinda had to go because it was named after the frogs I'll be working with, and of course I love beer! Had a tasty pizza and enjoyed a couple different styles of beer such as a pale ale and porter that I probably won't be able to find again for a very long time.

La Rana Dorada 

Later on, that evening turned into a rather interesting adventure – instead of hanging around the bar below the hostel as we had done the past two evenings, Steve mobilized a bunch of us to an area of bars not far from the causeway that he had visited last time he was here 4 years ago.

Everyone was excited for a change of scenery, but unfortunately the $12 cover that we were asked to pay diminished our excitement greatly. We decided to forego breaking the bank, but instead of giving up, we collectively chose to venture onward. Thanks to some suave Español courtesy of our friend Juan, we found ourselves in the “poor man’s Calle Uruguay.” (Calle Uruguay being a famous night life spot within the city).

This was... interesting. We were most definitely the only white people around, and we were rolling up 2 cabs deep. Nonetheless, we went into one of the bars filled with flashing lights, super loud music, and all eyes in the place upon us. We persevered through the disconcerting atmosphere and had a beer despite sticking out like a giraffe at a cattle ranch, but at least it made for an anything-but-boring sort of evening. We high-tailed it out of there after the first beer (or 2?) and relaxed when we stepped out of the taxi and returned to the familiar turf of our hostel home.

Time to book it!

The next morning I woke up and cooked some of the free banana pancakes offered by the hostel that had become my morning staple before venturing out to explore more of the city. That day I was looking to escape the noise, smells, and hectic traffic of the city, so I headed to El Parque Metropoliano - a national park within the city boundaries. Panama City is one of the only cities in the world where you can experience rainforest within 10 minutes from downtown. Definitely didn't want to miss out on the chance to explore this gem - and my body was aching for some tropical natural goodness. So I caught a bus to Albrook again followed by a $2 cab to the park. After paying my entrance fee and getting a quick overview of the different trails available to me from the friendly staff member on duty - I headed off into the forest. 

Natural bliss

I decided I would take my time and hike the majority of the trails - since I had no other obligations and no one to meet at any particular time. That's the beauty of traveling alone - if you want to spend all afternoon in the park or just sit and watch the turtles swim around while writing postcards, you can do so - without making anyone else wait on you. After only a few minutes on the trail, I came upon a small clearing that offered a glimpse of the city skyline. It was moving to see the juxtaposition of skyscrapers from within the trees. I imagine it's the sort of image the birds and sloths have all the time, while they wonder what the hell is wrong with these people. 

Escaping it all

The hiking and exploring consumed most of the rest of the morning/early afternoon - culminating at the top of the hill with a rather spectacular view of the city from above. Aside from a group of three other chatty women, I was the only one on the trails. I didn't see a stunning amount of wildlife by any means - but I would be surprised if I had, after all everything here has spent years evolving to not be found. I did enjoy watching trails of leaf cutter ants go about their business, and managed to snag this small video of some of them crossing the path. 

At first this was a novelty, but now I've gotten quite used to seeing leaf-cutter ants all over the place - carving tiny little industrial trails through the forest. If you watch them long enough it's a great way to make yourself feel lazy. I soaked in the view for awhile and then headed back down the mountain to chill - away from the chatty ladies. 

La Ciudad de Panama

My proposed next stop, after hanging out with the turtles and sloths for a while, was Panama Viejo - but I wasn't counting on it being so far out of the way that the taxi drivers didn't care to take me there for less than $20! When an average cab is around $2 - $3, that would be highway robbery - literally. So I went back to Albrook, got a few items I needed from the adjoining mall, and then returned to Luna's to chill (notice a theme here?) and prepare for an epic Halloween party that evening. By prepare - I mean do nothing, since I hadn't banked on Halloween being such a big deal outside of the U.S., which turned out to be a rather big mistake in an area that caters to tourists. So sadly, I had no costume (other than looking like Bird-watcher for a bit...) - but the party was still absolutely epic, they really pulled out all the stops. Haven't seen a Halloween party this crazy since I went to Fantasy Fest in Key West! Around midnight they stopped the music to put on a show featuring a woman dangling from above while another guy blew fire and others juggled flaming sticks. Definitely a Halloween for the books! 

Things are heating up...

The party raged on until the wee hours of the morning - and eventually I headed up to bed to crash. Pretty convenient that this whole thing went down only a couple flights of stairs below where I was sleeping. For once, it paid to be a foreigner - since everyone who wasn't staying at Luna's had to pay $5 to get in - and the line was around the block to get in... mostly made up of locals. 

The next morning I packed up all my bags, planning to head out to El Valle that afternoon. I thought I'd give Panama Viejo one more shot, and then catch a bus out of town. I checked out of my room and then caught up w Juan, and invited him to come along. He was down, and then we bumped into Steve - who decided to join us as well. The plan was to split a taxi, but as we were walking down the stairs Juan spied 3 bike cruisers sitting in the stairwell, begging to be ridden. So plans changed a bit and we decided to take bikes there instead - one of the best decisions made all week. Luna's rented the bikes for free - so the price was right. We set out down a beautiful bike path towards our destination! 

Two wheels is the way we ride

As we would soon realize - this ride was much more than a light cruise down the bike path. It would turn into quite the adventure navigating traffic-filled streets and hilly avenues. We were checking Google maps rather regularly to be sure we were heading in the right direction (thanks Juan) and ended up biking probably close to 15 km or 10-ish miles there (due to multiple wrong turns) - all in the hot sun and generally on roads with narrow shoulders. (Carrying sunscreen would have been smart...) The bike cruisers certainly weren't designed for what we put them through, but that's part of what made it so fun! 

Juan rockin out

We kept the ocean on our right on the way there, and tried to pick a route that wasn't a main highway - although we did have to ride on a small, almost on-ramp at one point... luckily no cars were coming then thanks to a well-timed red light. We got a healthy amount of honks sent our way, but in general it seemed that drivers were fairly respectable of our choice to bike, changing lanes to give us space whenever possible. 

Not exactly our route, but a good visual of the distance

We had a blast, and eventually after 2 hours in the hot sun navigating turns and traffic lights - we arrived at our destination, Panama Viejo. This is the site of the original Panama city - founded way back in 1519, as the first European settlement along the Pacific. It was a port for shipping the gold mined in Peru back to Spain, and as a result was very full of riches and quite coveted by the surrounding buccaneers. In 1671, Captain Henry Morgan (Bet you didn't know he was a real guy!) sacked the city and took all he could with the help of his crew of rowdy pirates and burned the rest. 

Used to shoot cannons at cities, now you shoot him. Cheers!

Morgan made off with the richest booty in the Americas at the time - and left only shambles in his wake. We checked out his legacy of destruction (not talking bout the rum) by leisurely walking around the remaining ruins of the first civilization of Panama - enjoying the satisfaction of having reached our destination after such a long time in the saddle. 

The ruins varied from crumbling building foundations to a partially restored cathedral tower that you could climb up three flights of stairs to get a cool view of the surrounding area... including the striking Panama skyline. 

I enjoyed letting my imagination wander back in time to a period when this place would have been in it's prime - and the chaos that must have ensued on that fateful day when Morgan decided to take it all and then vanish back into the sea. The Spanish rebuilt with what they had left, moving their city to the area that is now Casco Viejo (Meaning: Old compound) - named for the wall that was constructed around the city to protect it from future attacks. The fact that we were staying in a hostel in Casco viejo is testament to the effectiveness of this new location. 

A restored old convent - the brick parts are what has been replaced, the stones are original

After a while of exploring, I began to realize that my opportunity to catch a bus and still arrive in El Valle during the day time was quickly disappearing. By the time we finished walking around the ruins and taking a fair amount of photos - we were starving. With taking time to eat and then having to bike all the way back, I decided I would stay one more night in the city and head to El Valle first thing on Sunday. 

An old (restored) cathedral tower measures up to the high rises

Later that afternoon back at the hostel, I checked back in - was assigned a new bed sadly, and took a much needed shower. I tried to smooth talk my way back into my old bed since I had grown rather fond of it - but turns out the hostel was entirely full, so I was out of luck. The Halloween party must have enticed lots of people to book a room there. That evening was very relaxed, since at midnight the entire city stopped selling alcohol in recognition of "El día de difuntos" - a entire day dedicated to remembering those loved ones that have been lost. 

Chao, Panama city

Sure enough, the bar below the hostel kicked everyone out a few minutes after midnight - which was a perfect excuse to head to bed. I said goodbye to the friends I had made, and left early the next morning for El Valle to begin my new life working (and living!) in a zoo. I have lots to say about that now as well, but I will save that for the next blog. Stay tuned! More to come soon. Until then, Peace Out! 

Roaming in Wyoming

The Cowboy state is everything you've probably imagined, and so much more. If you’re picturing chestnut-colored horses roaming in vast grassy fields with snowy mountains looming in the background, or pronghorn antelopes speeding through the plains, this is the place. Out here, it truly feels like the west – and it’s awesome to call this corner of the earth home for the summer. 

View from the road on the way out here - Custer State park, SD

I’m not just out here for the thrill of it though (as thrilling as it is...), I’m actually working for a Master’s Student at the University of Wyoming who is doing research on Columbia Spotted Frogs (Rana luteiventris) in the Bighorn Mountains. When I told people that I was coming out here for the summer, almost everyone said something like “Oh, it’s gonna be beautiful out there!” They certainly weren’t wrong, but I’m not sure beautiful quite explains it. 

This is what my backyard looks like...

Picture-perfect postcard views are everywhere. The first day I was snapping pictures like crazy, and for those of you who have traveled with me and seen me take pictures… it is impossible to understate my desire to document the moments, large and small. But there’s something about out here that’s different – I’m disconnected from the world while here. In fact, I’m writing this blog on Word and I have no idea when I’ll actually be able to post it. (Well, now I know...) We have no cell service, and no internet in our housing – which isn’t surprising given that we are living in a cabin at an elevation of over 8,000 ft. So instead of worrying about trying to share everything online right away, or attempt to take a bazillion pictures, I’m taking the time to really enjoy it… and it’s AWESOME.

Waaaayyyy down there is the quaint little city of Sheridan, WY - our connection to the outside world

For me, being without phone or Internet is actually a blessing – it’s so revitalizing to disconnect from the world, breathe some fresh mountain air, and appreciate this gorgeous country. Too many people these days are connected to their phones as if their lives depend on it… I know I’m certainly guilty of obsessively checking e-mails or Facebook at times – but I think if everyone took a little time to shut off their phones/computers and go for a walk outside, this world might be a better place. Go ahead, try it.

"The [Bighorn] Mountains are calling... and I must go." - John Muir

OK enough soap-boxing – let me tell you a bit more about my job here and life in the Bighorns, then I gotta get back outside and enjoy this place. The Master’s project I’m helping with focuses on radio-tracking Columbia-spotted frogs, which involves attaching tiny transmitters to the frogs with stylish little belts made of very thin, flexible PVC tubing and copper wire. They are designed to be adjustable and not bother the frogs at all. Once the belts are on we use a big fancy antenna called a Yagi, attached to receiver to track down the frogs and note their location on a regular basis. 

A Columbia-spotted frog with radio transmitter attached

We follow the sounds of the beeps that our receivers make when they pick up the signal from the transmitter. The closer we are to the frog, the louder the beep. So essentially we are playing a very scientific game of “Hotter, Colder” and then recording a GPS point and habitat data once we locate the frogs. Right now, our goal is to track about 30-35 different frogs in at least 6 or 7 different locations, so about 5 frogs in each area. Currently we’ve got 15 frogs with transmitters, after 1 week of work (Update - we're now up to 26 after two weeks!). When we first catch the frogs – we also give them a mouth swab to collect DNA that can be used for a genetic component of the project. The frogs do not like this component very much…

Say "Ahhh"

Luckily for both the frog and us, the procedure is quick and painless. After we've collected all the data we need for the frogs (weight, length, sex, etc) – we put them back where we found them and then check up on their location in the next day or 2. Each time we check on them, we make sure the belts aren't causing them any discomfort or abrasions on their skin, and apply a little vitamin E to keep their skin in tip-top shape.  It’s lots of fun, and we’re very lucky to be doing this in such a beautiful and unique part of the world.

One of our study sites - Sibley Lake

 Frogs aren't the only animals we've found out in these woods – this area is one of the best in the country to see wild moose and elk, and after only a week – I've already become accustomed to seeing these huge herbivores on a regular basis. The ones you really hafta be careful around are the Momma moose (meese?) with calves, as they will not hesitate to charge you if they think you are posing a threat to their little one. Luckily I managed to snag a couple shots of these two from the safety of our truck. 

Say "Awww"

Since we are working outdoors with large metal antennas and cold-blooded animals, our work is very weather-dependent. We typically start our day around 8 am, to give the frogs a little time to warm up in the morning in the hopes of increasing our chances of finding them. We've had some interesting weather up here since we arrived, to say the least. I knew we would have our fair share of cool days, but I was quite surprised to wake up one morning to the sound of thunder, and then look out the window… only to see heavy snow falling in the middle of June. Not too long ago there was an accumulation of about 2 inches in some places. Not exactly ideal frog-catching weather, but still neat to be able to witness.

Winter ... err, Summer? Wonderland

The snows are generally short-lived, most of it melting away by the end of the day – but there are still snow packs in various places throughout the mountains. These surprise snows have become a “normal” occurrence here – just the other day it snowed twice in the evening for at least a couple hours, and then the clouds moved on, the sun reappeared, and melts it away. These late snows are not typical (supposedly) for the Big Horns though, and it’s very possible that they could be one of the reasons why we aren’t finding as many frogs in some of the area’s where Anička (pronounced A-neesh-ka), our supervisor, was very successful in finding them with her crew last year.

Anička with a freshly caught frog

Luckily I get along really well with the people I work with, which is always a blessing in jobs like these where you are almost constantly together. The “Frog crew” consists of only three of us – Anička, another field tech named Julia, and myself. When we aren’t working – we have gone on some fun adventures together, everything from hiking to enjoying a couple cold beers at the local bar, Bear Lodge, which is just up the hill.  Nothing like a pint of cold Moose Drool after a long day of work! J

The frog crew - laughing at ourselves on top of Twin Buttes after attempting a jumping pic

In addition to working with these two cool chicks, I am actually living in a large bunk house with 8 other dudes that seasonally work for the US Forest Service. Apparently the Forest Service has fairly strict rules about people of the opposite sex sharing a cabin, so they put me in with these guys instead. About half of them work seasonally as firefighters, and the other half are part of a summer trail crew that helps to maintain the many miles of trails in the Bighorn National Forest. These guys are pretty cool, and a lot of them were out here last year – so they know the area pretty well. In fact Charlie, one of the guys on the fire crew, was the one that led us to the top of the Twin Buttes – the impressive peaks in the backdrop right outside our cabin.

Following the leader...

Unlike most hikes, we weren't following a trail – we were just exploring the wild outdoors with no boundaries or set paths. It caused me imagine what it must have been like for the pioneers of the 1800s to discover this place, not to mention the Native Americans that called this place home long before then. It’s so stunning, rugged, and truly remote. Thankfully it retains a lot of that spirit, even in today’s overly connected world.

From the ground to the sky - natural beauty is all around us

I could go on and on about how breathtaking this place is (quite literally – lot less 02 up here!) but I hope you kinda get the idea. Since we aren’t always online or even around that many people, these guys have come up with other ways to enjoy living here. I’ve gone mountain biking a few times since being here which is always exhilarating, not to mention quite a workout, and the views never disappoint. Nothing like looking down from the top of a mountain to see a couple moose grazing in the field below you.

Mountain biking with Charlie

Since we all work pretty hard up here, it’s important to have fun ways to unwind as well. Sure we can always go grab a beer at Bear Lodge, and it’s pretty common for a campfire to be burning out back, but the weekends call for something special. This past weekend, I was introduced to a whole new level of relaxation… the “Hillbilly Hot Tub.” It’s basically an over-sized water trough, set up on some metal pallets… with a healthy fire burning underneath in order to heat the thing. I’m surprised they don’t sell the materials for this in Wal-Mart right next to the S’mores section.

This is the definition of classy

The trick was getting the fire hot enough to heat all of the water… but not too hot, otherwise we’d all be cooked. Turns out we got a bit zealous with making the fire, and even though there was snow falling that evening – for many hours the water was scorching hot. So we waited it out and had a few beers, played some games, and even made a late night trip to Bear Lodge.

The local watering hole

Eventually around 1:30 am after the flames had died down and the coals simmered for quite a while - we were able to enjoy the fruits of our labors… and for just being a water trough in the woods, it felt damn good. We sat on wooden boards in order to avoid burning our asses… be sure to remember that if you’re planning on trying this at home. After all, who doesn’t love spending all afternoon chopping wood and starting a fire in order get hot water?

Well, I gotta get back outside now… hope a few of you got a tiny bit of entertainment out of this little life update. If you need me, I’ll be out roaming in Wyoming. And don’t bother trying to call me – my phone’s roaming too J Until next time, Peace out!

America, the Beautiful

P.S. I may not have Internet all the time, but I can always get mail! If you feel like writing a letter (yes, some people still do that!) my address is ...

Brad Nissen

Bighorn National Forest

(Burgess Ranger Station)

2013 Eastside 2nd Street

Sheridan, WY 82801

James and the Giant Couch

This is the story of the first time I ever "officially" couch-surfed... and a case for why everyone should give it a try. Before I jump straight into this entertaining saga, I must give copious credit to my friend's Jackie and Chad for opening my eyes to the possibilities of Couchsurfing. They have Couchsurfed all over the world, and had amazing experiences - living proof this system works! They are gurus of travel, adventure, eco-friendly lifestyles, and awesomeness. Thanks guys!

Click here - explore the world

The genius idea of Couchsurfing involves people from all over the world, allowing others from all over the world to crash ("surf") on their couch, for free! This allows you to meet new people, get a local's perspective on the place you are visiting, and save money. It's all facilitated through a well-engineered website and kind humans everywhere. If you are already sold and don't care to read further, consider checking out this simple, common-sense list of Do's and Dont's for your first CS experience. 

Alright, so the story begins with me visiting the Couchsurfing website and setting up a profile, so that other people in the CS community could learn a bit more about who I am. Using this amazing online resource is what makes this CS experience "official" - I was going to stay on someone's couch that I'd never met before, unlike just crashing at a buddy's place. (But not too different, as luck would have it).

Let the Couch surfing begin! 

My destination was Savannah, GA. I've heard great things about the city, I knew that it was legal to walk around with open containers of alcohol, and I've never been. Don't need any more reasons! Plus I was on my way back home from FL and this seemed like the perfect place to stop. So, I used the website to sort through CSers in Savannah and started viewing their profiles. Not everyone on CS is able to host people, and even those who do have a couch open for surfers aren't always available when you'd like to be there. So it is very important to do your research, make sure the person seems like someone you would be interested in meeting - and of course confirm that they have a couch available. 

I'm scrolling down the list of CS profiles when I stumble upon James. First thing I notice is his profile picture.

I haven't even met this guy yet, and he's already got me laughing. 

So, I decide to send James a personalized message requesting that I stay a night on his couch. I knew James was going to be a great guy to stay with because on his profile he has almost a hundred references with people saying things like "James is one of those people you never forget...." or "James definitely set the bar high for my first couchsurfing experience... can't wait to visit again" - You get the idea. I also sent a message to two other CSers in Savannah, but neither of them got back to me in time. One replied later and told me he was actually CSing in FL at the time, but he appreciated the fact that I actually took the time to write a personalized request... some people just say "Hey can I stay on your couch?" and that doesn't appeal to him. Seems like common sense! 

Sure enough, the next day after I message James he sends a quick short note back - 

"No problem! What time will you be arriving? here's my # if you'd rather contact me there." 

So I tell James I'll be coming from Brunswick, GA that day after spending the night in a treehouse hostel (It's even more awesome than what you are picturing) and don't have major plans - I could show up anytime. 

He says anytime is fine, and gives me his address - I'm all set. So I head to James' house on Friday evening, and even before arriving I am floored by Savannah's beauty. If you've never been - GO! If you have, you already know what I'm talking bout. Huge live oak trees draped with large clumps of Spanish moss lined the roads, forming a peaceful green tunnel over the streets. Not to mention Azaleas were in bloom everywhere. 

Savannah is beautiful!

So I get to James' place and he comes out to meet me, and quickly offers to help me with my bags. Even after I insist I'm fine - he takes one of my bags to lighten my load. I feel like I'm visiting an old friend already. When we step inside the first thing I notice is the art on the walls. Savannah is famous for SCAD - the Savannah College of Art and Design, and as I would find out, James has many friends that have gone there. Everything from a floor to ceiling portrait of Tupac to disjointed pieces of mirror covering an entire wall, it all catches my eye. In time, I would learn the story behind many of them. I'm also eyeing the big black leather couch in the room, thinking "not bad!"

Then, James shows me to a room next to the living room, and says, "You can stay here. It's my son's bedroom but he's out of town." Woah! Talk about an unexpected upgrade. "Are you sure? I don't mind sleeping on the couch and definitely don't want to intrude." James in his own kind way softly chuckles and convinces me this is fine, and I'm realizing how lucky I am to have met this guy.

The "couch" James let me stay on

As I get to know him, I thank him constantly for allowing me to stay here - especially since I am new to couchsurfing and didn't have a reference on my profile yet.

"I'm happy to give anyone a chance," he says "after all you have to start somewhere right?" Very true. If only more people were like that. He does mention that he is wary of people that don't upload photos though, "I mean how hard can it be?" haha. 

As we're getting to know one another, James asks, "Do you like Popcorn?" "Um, Yeah" "Cool, do you want some?" "Sure!" So James whips up a bowl of popcorn and we enjoy it together while he tells about how he got into couchsurfing. Apparently in the past he has worked as a model for students at SCAD, and got paid fairly well serving as a subject for their paintings. However, when summer came around and all the students left he was struggling to find work as a model. So one of his friends suggests he look for work in NYC, which seems like a good idea - but then he soon realizes New York has a ridiculously high cost of living and there's no way he could afford rent there. Then his friend suggests couchsurfing. 

James looks into it, and is floored by the fact that he was able to find couchsurfers everywhere. 

"Tanzania, couchsurfers there! My hometown, couchsurfers there! New Zealand, couchsurfers there! New York, couchsurfers there!" As a testament to the awesomeness of the system, James manages to arrange places to stay for the entire time he plans to spend in NYC, a couple nights here and a couple nights there, etc. Then, just as he is preparing to head up there - another one of James' friends who is "kinda rich" calls him up. 

"James, I hear you are going to NY! I have a house there and I need someone to look after it, could you stay there?" Pays to have friends! So James ends up staying at her place the entire time instead of Couchsurfing. But after being so impressed with how kind people had been, he wants to return the favor and opens his home in Savannah to CSers. Many couchsurfers and stories later, James and I cross paths. 

He asks about my plans and goals here in Savannah and I tell him I have a clean slate - I just want to explore. He suggests we go walk around downtown while it's still light out and I'm all for it. We first walked through Forsyth Park and I was surrounded by happy people, ornate fountains, old monuments, and green everywhere. Soccer games, kids playing, dogs, frisbee - this is what a park should be! My camera decided to malfunction when I was uploading photos, so I borrowed this one so that you'd get the idea.

Photo of Forsyth Park from Savannah Law School website

While walking through the park, James tells me about something that I find even cooler than all of Savannah's southern charm. He calls it "Echo-land" and it is essentially a specific spot in Savannah where there is an X on the ground surrounded by a diamond. If you stand directly on the X with your back to the Savannah river, you can speak in a normal voice and hear your words echo back to you - directly into your ear. It's crazy! When I first did it, the immediate echo caught me off guard... it's like hearing what you say through headphones, almost. So cool! Only you can hear the echo, everyone else just hears you saying "Hello... Woah!" The really cool part is, not many people know about this... as in almost no one. In fact there were bunches of tourists just walking right by as James and I goofed off on the X while they probably thought we were tripping on acid or something. They had no idea what they were missing out on. If it wasn't for couchsurfing, I would never have known about this awesome spot. Funnily enough, James himself didn't even know about it until a couch surfer told him! WIN! 

Aerial view of Echo-land

I could stop here, and you should already be thinking about how you need to join the CS community... but the story gets even better.

After goofing around at echo-land for quite a while, we started walking back towards James' car and noticed the sky was turning gray. Picking up the pace to avoid the threat of rain, James asked how long I planned to stay. I told him I didn't have plans, was just passing through on my way back home and thought I'd spend some time checking this place out. He replies, "Cool, well you're welcome to stay until Monday if you'd like." 

I think about for a second, "Awesome, well I really appreciate it! I may stay another night then if that's cool - I'm pretty tired now, but tomorrow I'd be up for exploring more and possibly going out to a couple bars in the evening." Totally cool he says, and we agree that plan sounds more appealing than attempting to dodge the rain while walking around town. After all, part of the fun is being able to take your beer from bar to bar!

James told me that one of the reasons he likes couchsurfing is that it causes him to go out and explore his own city. We're all guilty of saying we'll go to that museum or park just down the street... another day. While walking around, random people stop to say hi to James and he introduces me to them, "this is my couchsurfer, Brad." "Another one?" I laugh and shake hands with them, some of them being ex-surfers themselves that fell in love with Savannah and never left. 

James obviously knows many people around, and Savannah has a small town vibe that supports that sort of atmosphere. No one is afraid to stop their jogging to say hi and catch up for a bit, and everyone waves at each other. It was really neat to walk around and experience Southern hospitality at its finest, and in a way that people who lived there a hundred years ago couldn't have imagined. That is one thing I really enjoy about the South, people definitely don't mind slowing life down a bit to chat. 

We go back to his place and he shows me some magic tricks with cards that cause both of us to laugh excessively, I can't really explain - you had to be there. He also tells me about some neat games that he has invented, one was called Back Alley - and it is similar to spades except that you can play with more than 4 people, and the number of cards you are dealt is different each hand. 

His other game invention is even more brilliant. You are probably familiar with the game Bananagrams, where players take lettered tiles from a sack shaped like a Banana and try to make their own crossword grid with the letters they have. There are no turns, you just try to use all the letters you have as fast as possible. Well, James didn't invent Bananagrams, but he did invent a life-sized version that he calls Savannagrams! It's the same game, but played with massive tiles that are made out of a similar sort of material that you would find in an old clipboard. The tiles fit perfectly inside old plastic milk crates. 

Savannagrams with James

James takes the milk crates down to the park, or sometimes the beach, and gets random people to play with him! I'm terrible at Bananagrams, but it's still fun and I told him I'd love to play on Saturday (the picture is proof that I did). So we called it an early night on Friday, and rested up for a big day tomorrow. 

Life with James kept getting better. I woke up and did some overdue internet surfing (life without a smartphone) while relaxing. After a bit, James came in and said, "Hey Brad, I made you breakfast." Wow! I was treated to a meal of homecooked grits and eggs. I'm not usually a grits fan, but I couldn't turn down a homemade meal. And I'm glad I didn't, they were cheesy and so delicious. While eating James told me about a friend of his that makes ... get ready for this, ...Mandolins out of armadillos! WhAt? 

Yup. He asked if I wanted to meet him. Hell yeah! So after breakfast we went over to his house. This guy's name is Wolf, apparently. More on that in a bit. We knock on his door, but then hear a guy from the side of the house yell, "I'm in the back!" We walk over to meet Wolf, who is in the middle of making cornhole sets. He puts down his measuring tape to shake my hand and invites both of us in for a beer. Wolf is a middle-aged tan guy with a salt and pepper buzz cut, and he's full of life. He plays intense ultimate frisbee every week.

James tells Wolf that I am interested in seeing his armadillos. He perks up and shows me into the living room. As I snap a photo, Wolf tells me that he got the idea from the traditional Latin American instrument called a Charango, used in the 18th century. Gnarly. 

Armandolin

He hands me the instrument and it's actually pretty heavy. Apparently he gets his Armadillos from the side of the road, where they are occasionally hit by cars as they graze. A lot of people don't realize that there is actually a sizeable population of Armadillos in the southeast. They can essentially be equated to groundhogs, except slightly slower and stupider. 

After oogling over his instruments, and being shown other Armadillo shells that Wolf has cleaned to use for future projects - we return to the kitchen. James suggests that we take some tequila shots. Wolf says "Ahh you guys go ahead, I'm fine." "Aww c'mon," says James - "It's Saturday!" Good point. 

"Alright, Alright," Wolf replies, meanwhile James grabs a couple lime wedges and a salt shaker. I've just seen an Armadillo mandolin, so I'm pretty much up for anything at this point.  Wolf takes the salt from James, and then barks, "Hey, You wanna see a manshot?! Here, I'll show you guys a MANshot."

Good advice

I never could have imagined what happened next. Wolf takes the salt shaker and dumps a little salt on his left hand, between his thumb and index finger. That part was normal. Then he leans down, puts his nose over the salt, and plugs one nostril with his right hand as he SNORTS up the salt!! Woah dude. That had to hurt. James and I start hesitantly laughing and asking what the hell he is doing, as he yells, "ARRGH! Hold on, I'm not done yet!"

Then he grabs his lime wedge, tilts his head back and holds his eyelids open with one hand while he uses his other hand to squeeze out the lime juice, directly into his eye. Yeesh. Now cock-eyed, bent over, and exhaling heavily - he reaches for the tequila and downs the shot. James and I just stare at him stunned for a second and then burst out laughing. This dude is crazy.

James expresses it perfectly, "Well I guess we'll be women today, cuz we're not taking a man-shot!" HA! Lots more laughing ensues as James and I take our tequila shots the traditional way and watch Wolf complain about how badly his eye burns. After the dust (or lime juice) settles we take a seat outside to relax a bit with a bowl of popcorn. (Popular snack around here)

Wolf asks me about where I'm coming from, and I tell him I've been working for a professor at FSU who is studying Chorus Frogs so I was just on my way home to VA from Tallahassee. "Oh cool!" He says, "I was in the Circus at FSU! That's where I got my name, when I was there I grew out all my hair and people called me 'The Wolf.'" Since I had just come from there, I knew exactly what he was talking about. As it turns out, FSU is one of the only colleges in the U.S. that has a legitimate Circus program on their campus. They've got a huge big-top tent that is actually a permanent fixture, and while we were driving around down there I definitely noticed it. So I tell Wolf, "Oh yeah! I saw the circus tent while I was down there, that's pretty crazy that you were in it!" Then I think back to the MANshot incident and things are starting to click. I think to myself that I've definitely got to tell some people about this.

The Circus Tent at FSU - photo from FSU Flying Circus website

Now James starts laughing and says, "Man it's crazy that you have actually been there... cuz for years Wolf has been telling us that he was in the Circus and none of us believed it! We figured there was no way there's actually a circus on a college campus! hahaha" Meanwhile, Wolf seems very happy to finally have someone legitimatize his story.

After a bit more chatting and popcorn, we head out to the front yard to play cornhole so that Wolf could remind me how terrible I am. I made a fool of myself, but had a great time nonetheless. After a short time, James gets a call from his friend Jared who needs help building a wooden stand for his art class (Jared's an art teacher). So we roll out in James' silver convertible Sebring to help move some wood around. For all you Office fans out there, I definitely felt like Jim for a bit while riding as a passenger in this car. It was the perfect day for a ride with top down.

Bottoms up, tops down! 

The rest of the day was a bit of blur, with lots of stand-building, Savannagrams, and beer. Good times indeed. That evening we went out and I think my camera was even more tipsy than me! Here's the only shot I recovered from the evening.

Green is good

On Sunday we leisurely woke up and I spent the morning soaking up some sun and reading in the park by James' house, while he caught up on some work. James currently works as an area manager for a number of different U-Haul branches. After a while, I came back to the house and James asked if I wanted to go back downtown. I said sure, and then on the way we noticed how nice of a day it was... so James suggested going to the beach instead. Sounds good! On the way, he was kind enough to treat me to lunch. Such a generous dude! The beach was fun, and since the weather was warming up and it was the weekend... there were a fair amount of people there. We people-watched for a while and James told me some of his jokes. On the way home he told me a joke that lasted over 20 minutes - the delivery was more amusing than the punchline, but I enjoyed it thoroughly.

Life's a beach! Photo cred: www.visittybee.com

At last, it was time for me to say goodbye. I gave James a big hug and thanked him so much for opening his home to me and showing me what life in Savannah was all about. I promised to visit again, and I look forward to doing so. The couchsurfing motto is, "You have friends all over the world, you just haven't met them yet." Well, now I've met my friend(s) in Savannah, and I can't wait to see 'em again. Thanks James!!