Move along now
After two years in Anacortes and a brief jaunt in Portland, we’ve landed in New York. A lot has happened. We ran our first marathon, we had chickens, we had a real garden, we closed down that place, we swam in lakes, we had our first snowy winter, we made a new friend… we lived life in the PNW.
Now we have left the woods and moved to the big city. I started working as a New Media Designer for W. W. Norton. We just moved into our apartment, right near Prospect Park. We are excited to share our new life with you. (New Yorkers, let’s hang out.)
Land Camera to Guemes
Five-minute ferry ride to another Island for lunch, tested out one of the land cameras we found in the old darkroom at the DoS.
This morning the lake was warm, our palms stained from thimbleberries. Summer on Fidalgo Island—rules pretty hard.
Lake Swimming
Have you ever done this? Man, lake swimming is pretty amazing. Part of growing and living in “SoCal” is the ocean, you don’t have lakes. Lakes are something entirely different. They have a different kind of mystery. The ocean can be brash and noisy, but lakes are more quiet about their secrets, they silently suffer.
Although I miss the salty waves and bobbing around in the swell, I have fallen in love with swimming in lakes. Lakes are something we have an abundance here on beautiful Fidalgo Island. There are like ten. So far, my favorite is Trafton (pictured above). I was told that it is very magical and I believe it. It was made by a meteor. The water is the color of rust. Much darker than any of the other lakes.
But isn’t this an island, you ask, isn’t there ocean surrounding you on all sides? Well, yes, that is true, but it is not like La Jolla Cove with its rhythmic waves and tickling Garibaldi. The ocean is more like a bay—and it is very cold—even for Lynne Cox, maybe. There is one “swimming” beach nearby though, it is waist deep forever:
Exploring
With a baguette and coffee in hand, we drove around the perimeter of Fidalgo Island.
Stopped near a private beach to skip stones and touch oceanic travelers.
Turns out I need some practice with the skipping.
Fire walk with me
NEWSFLASH: We’re out, yo.
Come May 1, 2009 we are moving out of the desert and into an old fire station near the forest of the snow owl (see B). Eagles will rest on our shoulders as we pick wild berries and we will learn great truths from the ferny depths. There will be mushrooms and ocean and cool dudes on motorcycles. We may meet this friend. There will most def be lots of musics and “art” and references to these symbols:
Department of Safety! (We are going to live there.)
We must heed the call of the mountains.
GET SOME WHILE YOU CAN. We are.
How we roll
You’ve had a taste of our Feats and Eats, but how about Streets? How do we get around?
Well, we use our legs! We put the pedal to the metal, shake our thangs, and (in a pinch) hop on the bus. We have been officially car-less since November 2006. That’s when my car died. Goodbye burden and hello endorphins.
Where would we be without our bikes? No freaking where. Our bikes have really revolutionized our lives and made things like this blog possible. Going to Farmer’s Market? Carrying all of our food? AS IF! We are restless creatures—walking and waiting for the bus gets OLD. So, we ride.
Now this may seem like no great feat. We hear you. However, we live in Los Angles where the concepts of time and distance are skewed by cars and edge city syndrome. The bike lanes/shoulders are scarce, the roads are a sorry mess, and drivers are moody. Yeah, people in these parts think commuting cyclists are lunatics, but that’s just cause they’re jealous. ;)
We didn’t start riding long distances in traffic overnight. We started gradually increasing distances back in college as we moved further and further from campus. We partook in the vintage bike club… We rode beaters with no lights and no helmets… (Ah, youth.) L’s bike was stolen outside of my house and she had to use an old mountain bike… I converted to fixed gear. We moved, got married, time passed and here we are. Most of the time it’s less than 10 miles to get where we need to go (a distance that had once been a luxury event)—close enough to make it reasonable and just far enough to keep us out of trouble.
The more we ride the more serious we get about bike safety. I couldn’t imagine riding without a helmet now (It is scary enough to ride in LA traffic with drivers who don’t see you or don’t care (or want to brutally murder you)) and we are constantly questioning if we have enough lights. We invested in quality bags that will allow us to carry more with our breaking our collar bones. Heck, we are even thinking about getting bicycle licenses!
The point is that you can get around Los Angeles without a car, even if you live more than 5 miles away from your job. We do everyday.
