March 13 Cancer Update and Grad School in London

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Goldsmiths Graduation, 2005 (Annette, Professor John Wood, and me)

Last week’s chemo infusion was pushed back to this week to give my body a chance to recover from the rib radiation and for my new mutation med kick in, so I have a chemical drip-line to look forward to today. As I keep telling people, the chemo is so mild! Really, it is. The cocktail of drugs that are pumped into my port are so dialed in that I shouldn’t lose any hair, don’t really get sick (fingers crossed), and don’t get my insides torched along with the tumors.

I can’t remember if I told you about the port… it’s a small device that was surgically implanted in my chest about a month ago…it connects to a vein on the right side of my chest – above my lung but below the c-collar, and is used to draw blood and give chemo infusions without needing to go in through my arm vein. It will probably remain in place for the rest of this year(s)? There is a visible bump under my skin on my chest…tank top season this year is going to be lit!

So yes, the big item on my agenda today is chemo, then I’ll take my daily walk.

I’m up to a 45-minute walk! I can walk 45 minutes before my right hip starts hurting. There is so much going on in my right hip that my PT and I aren’t sure if the pain I am feeling is muscle or joint, tumor or not, so I’m doing a combo of stretching and strengthening to help rehabilitate that side while I try to gain back some semblance of my strength. This strength-building is going to take a while. I realized the other day that I’ve been in this compromised state for six months now. Six months! That’s half a year that I haven’t been able to go about life as normal. It really does feel like a time warp because there is no way I would have told you that I’ve been suffering from my injuries and this cancer, for that long. Time flies when you are in denial?

I’m also getting into the doldrums of the between treatment days. I binged the entire first season of Hacks yesterday. It didn’t feel great to stay in bed most of the day in front of HBO Max, but it also kind of did. I can see where it will be easy to slip into binge mode this year. I can be quite the sloth when I want to, and often feel there are two sides to me (I am a Gemini after all) duking it out…the extremely motivated side vs. the extreme sloth side. It’s almost as if these two sides have to balance each other out… I can be so incredibly on, so productive, so task and goal-oriented that the other side of the coin almost has to be a complete shut-down, reset, and veg mode. I seem to have two speeds. 120% and 3%. Is that such a bad thing? I guess it’s been working for me this far… let’s see how it shakes out in this cancer year.

These look-backs into pieces and slices of my past are almost all look-backs to the 120% of me, the other periods aren’t dramatic enough to have whole chunks of time worth reflecting on, maybe that’s why it works? There is moderation?

But today I think I’ll go back to 2003 and grad school. I’m doing a decent job of filling in the spaces for many of the other phases of life. We have:

Grad School

What next? was one of the main questions I asked myself after returning from Burkina Faso and hiking the Appalachian Trail.

What next? I asked myself as I was in Washington DC interning at the Smithsonian.

What next?

Well, grad school seemed like the next logical step at this point.

I was exploring a career in museums at the time and grad school was almost a pre-requisite into that career choice. In DC I was surrounded by extremely educated people, and I’ve always been attracted to the school vibe. Most likely, my love of books goes hand in hand with my love of education, gorgeous college campuses, and libraries. Higher ed has always had a great allure and romanticism to it….and having grown up on college campuses (my dad worked at UW Stevens Point and then Bradley University) certainly played into that.

I wanted to go back to school. I was excited to go back to school.

So what does one study when they want to work in a museum? I had decided on museum exhibition design because I could combine my love of design, experiential learning, three-dimensional spaces, and education into creating exhibits that people could walk through, interact with, learn from, and engage with. I was very drawn to multi-sensory museum exhibits at the time, and the great thing about the Smithsonian museums was that they were free. I could pop into one of them and walk through for an hour, sit in one exhibit hall, or visit one corner and not feel like I had to spend all day because I had just dropped $30 on the entry fee. I fed my brain regularly on museum exhibits, and those trips all went into the big jumble of experiences that fed into my grad school applications. 

Where would I even go? When researching master’s degree programs for museum exhibition design, I found that there weren’t many explicitly designed for my interests. That wasn’t a huge problem because I have lots of experience learning around a thing to get at the thing, and figured I’d need to piece together different aspects of study to get at my chosen field. The University of the Arts in Philadelphia did have a museum exhibition design program though, so that went on the list. Other ones I ended up applying to were Museum Studies at JFK University in San Francisco, the University of Washington Museum Studies program in Seattle, and the Design Futures program Goldsmiths College in London.

JFK University isn’t even around anymore…it closed in 2020, so I guess it’s good I didn’t go there? The museum studies program at U of W ended up being the only program I didn’t get into, which is just as well because I would have had to cobble together that degree to make it into what I wanted. Then there was the University of the Arts. I took a trip up to Philly to tour and interview at the school back in 2003. (This is another school that closed!!! Just last year in fact. That sucks). Had I chosen this program it would have explicitly involved designing museum exhibits, which seemed very practical at the time. On my visit I met many students in the program and had great fun looking at some of their dioramas of exhibits they were putting together (man, I love a good diorama!). University of the Arts would have been the most plug-and-play school choice for me; the program was designed to create exhibition designers, and the course work was very clearly created to prepare me solidly for that field. The Museum of the Arts was at the top of the list, but the exotic, multi-disciplinary, and non-traditional choice of grad school in London was pulling at me from the background. Museum of the Arts would have been a solid choice, and I was accepted into the program, but the expense gave me pause. It would have cost about $50,000 a year (for two years) to go to school there, and sure, I could take out loans for that amount (I was very lucky to get out of undergrad without any student loans), so it was clear sailing for me and the debt I would be taking on, but $100,000 grand for a fairly low-paying field of study did give me pause. (Side note; money has never really given me pause. I’ve never really had it, or thought much about it…money has never stopped me from doing what I’ve wanted to do, and I’ve always made enough to squeak by with my chosen lifestyle, but for some reason this debt did give me pause).

There were other reasons that London rose to the top of the list. There was a boy. A boy at the time who was going to grad school at London School of Economics. If I were to go to grad school in London, we could be in the same city and see what was what between us. So yes, the boy was a big factor at play when deciding where to go to school…we had in fact gone to the same high school and joined Peace Corps at the same time too. He served in Guinea, West Africa at the same time I was in Burkina Faso, and we reconnected back in Peoria after both of us had returned from our two years of mind-melting mid-west counter cultural experiences. 

What else did London have going for it? Well the program I decided to apply for was called Design Futures and was a very interdisciplinary and utopian look at how good design could help make the world a better place, which were ultimately my operating principals at the time: making the world a better place. The Design Futures program was solidly above and beyond all the others for its aspirational goals. It was based out of Goldsmiths College, which was the University of London’s creative college, and best of all? I could use federal loans to go to school overseas. I would be in school for about a year and a half, continually, rather than the two years with summer off schedule in the US, and it would be cheaper (cheaper!) for me to go to school there. The only drawback was that the degree wouldn’t necessarily line up with a degree program in the states. Design Futures was non-traditional enough that it might not be recognized as a graduate program in the US system, but, as I rarely subscribe to the system, that aspect really didn’t matter to me at all. 

Design Futures was a deep dive into sustainability, into deep ecology and theory, and heavily based in reading and writing. Each of us in the program chose our own method of design that we wanted to apply our thinking too. I chose museum exhibition design, while others in my class were furniture designers, textile designers, graphic designers, architects, etc. We were quite the eclectic group from all over the world. I loved that aspect. I was the only American; other students came from Norway, Spain, Japan, China, Korea, the Netherlands, the UK, and beyond. In fact, I was often the only American around during those few years, and I enjoyed it.

Shortly after arriving in London in August of 2003, the boy and I broke up, so I didn’t have any connections when I was trying to find my footing. It was a discombobulating time, but it was also a sink or swim time. I eventually swam, but it did take a while.

Soon after arriving I found a room to rent in a group house on Coldharbour Lane, a notorious street in SE London, and threw myself into becoming a Londoner for the next while. I loved my flatmates. Again, I was the only American, and lived with a creative and electric bunch: Franka and Janette were from Germany…Franka was an architect and Jenette was a fashion designer. Jesse was a Brit and was an illustrator, and David was from New Zealand and played music among various other pursuits. There were other housemates who came and went during my time there…they were all fun and eccentric in their own ways, and we had great times together. 

My house was about three miles from campus, so I would often walk to classes. It took about the same amount of time to walk to school as it did to take the bus. At this time I was very very poor. Like count my pennies, I could only afford one-beer-a-week poor. Taking out loans and eeking my way in the expensive city of London became its own challenge, but fortunately my parents helped me out with some small loans of their own, and I also started working, which helped me eventually work up to a two-pints-of-beer-a-week allowance. Being poor in London wasn’t all that bad. I couldn’t afford to take the tube anywhere and instead walked the city. I was a hiker by that point anyway, and walking everywhere was natural. It was my entertainment too. It took me a while to make friendships while I was there, but I had my walking. On weekends I would walk to new destinations in the city, go to museums, visit a cafe or two, and always had my eye on free entertainment in the city. There was always music or street fairs, and being a student also helped with discounted tickets to shows and such.

My time in London was kind of a struggle, but a good struggle. Like I said before, a time of sink or swim, and after treading water for a bit, I swam.

So school, what was that about? From the start my professor, John Wood, was feeding us ideas around designing utopias and creating new social and design structures that would foster community and societal order. It was brilliant. We looked to Buckminster Fuller and many philosophers. The schooling was incredibly different than what I was used to in the states. We would have one full day of lectures a week, and the rest of the time was ours. We had four essays to write during the length of the course with a dissertation at the end. That was it! We had to read and think and apply those principals to our chosen design disciplines. It was much like the Peace Corps in that we were left to our own devices to make of it what we could.

I am really good at writing papers, and found I was well-suited to the structure. I spent many hours in the library, and many hours visiting different museums around London. I even had a short stint, not really an internship, at the London Portrait Gallery. There was a relationship of sorts with the museum I had interned at in DC, and I pulled on those connections to get me a gig at the London museum. I spent a few days with their staff behind the scenes, but after I almost cut my finger off with an Exacto knife on one of the first days I was there, the gig didn’t really turn into much. I think they thought I was too much of a liability…no matter though, much like the DC museums, many of the London museums were free so I could come and go frequently and pop into exhibits that I was drawn to.

I was very interested in multi-sensory exhibit experiences….and I’ll stress experiences here. I thought the more senses an exhibition could entice, the richer and more evocitiave the exhibition experience could be. At the time the Tate Modern had a wonderful exhibit by Olafur Eliasson that I would visit again and again. It was called the Weather Project, and the old turbine hall was turned into another world. The ceiling had been plastered with mirrors, and on one end half of a glowing sun appeared against the mirror, evoking a sunset atmosphere. Clouds of moisture would be puffed out from time to time, and the experience was so immersive that people would lay down on the floor and bask in the sun. It was an experiential exhibition to the core, and I loved it. 

So what came out of my time there? Ultimately I decided that I wanted to take the museum out of the museum, and my dissertation was all about developing an “eco-interplay ethic” where museums could be a safe place to study and play with ideas, many around sustainability, and give visitors a chance to see and interact with different sciences and disciplines side by side. It was about moving away from an object-based museum to an experience-based museum where an object could come alive with more interpretation around its holistic story….a story that included people, place, setting, and purpose.

I still have the program from our year-end degree show which encapsulats all the thinking we were doing that year. The show was called “Yet/Still to Come” and may do a better job at illustrating what I was doing during this time than my words above do.

At the end of the Design Futures program, I wanted to stay in London and work in a UK museum, but none of my job applications went anywhere, and I ran out the time on my student visa, but not before making a wonderful trip to Norway with one of my classmates Elizabeth to visit her home country and spend some time in Oslo and the country-side. I returned to Illinois in October 2004 and made a quick turnaround time to order to move to Oregon that November. That means I became an Oregonian just over 20 years ago! Does that mean I’m an Oregonian, or do you have to be born here?? 

How has that time influenced my work today? Well, like I said before, after grad school I moved to Oregon and couldn’t find a job in museums, so hiked the PCT in 2006. From there on the desire to live and work outside has become more of a framing reference for ideas and aspirations, but Design Futures still lives on…. 

It was quite a jolt years later when I realized after I got the job to establish the Oregon Desert Trail that I finally had my museum exhibit. I had created an opportunity where I was curating a three-dimensional multi-sensory experience in a thru-hike so that a hiker could immerse themselves in place, learn about the history, ecology, flora, fauna, conservation opportunities, public land issues, all the while walking through one of the most remote landscapes left in the US.

THIS was my dissertation.

THIS was me putting my grad school experience into practice.

This is the foundation of my business today.

Through the full-bodied, holistic, experiential experience of thru-hiking a trail and creating the resources and experiences for hikers to learn and interact with, I am creating a better world. Good design can change the world, and by designing a hiking experience with the goal of creating a more engaged and informed hiker, I am putting Design Futures into practice.

So yes, grad school has been an important phase of my life and continues to influence everything I do today. Living in a world of ideas for a while can have practical implications, but I wonder if ideas don’t always get enough time and space for thoughts to fully develop…we need to give ourselves and each other the time and space to think, dream, read, write, be, and explore. I will always go to bat for a liberal arts education…it helped make me who I am today, and a realm of study where we can apply different principles to many of life’s disciplines is invaluable. 

So with that I’ll close my grad school chapter and retun to the land of cancer to think and read and look at this time of pause in my life as another experience of playing with space and time…perhaps I’ll come out the other end of this nebulous cancer year with a bunch of new ideas and ways to apply my thinking to the trails community, or maybe I’ll fully embrace my sloth state to binge watch a bunch of TV and read a ton of books. Regardless, I know the inputs, and conversations, and musings of this year will go into the big stew–pot of my experiences and will somehow influence future me…the how is yet to be determined.

My usual routine

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I woke again about midnight. I haven’t been staying in bed until 3am like I promised all of you a while ago. Oops. Instead, I keep getting up and reveling in the quiet early morning hours to read, write, drink my coffee, and enjoy the quiet. I just like it, ok?

But my new med makes me quite tired during the day. I’ve struggled to keep my eyes open even when visiting with friends, and the extra napping is probably compounded by the short nights. That has been the main side-effect of my new mutation med so far, sleepiness.

This morning I was scrolling on Instagram when I decided to post a TBT image. TBT, you know “Throw back Tuesday” where you post a memory photo.

Then I started reading my blog posts from the Owyhee packraft trip and remembered that my favorite place to write isn’t at 2am at home when I can’t sleep from the cancer in my bones, it’s writing at 4am in my tent or spread-out cowboy-camping style on my tyvek when I’m hiking.

My tradition since starting to blog on my hikes many years ago is to write every day. Get up in the dark, make my coffee, and write. Write for hours even! This is the beauty of solo hiking too; I don’t have to work around anyone else’s schedule, I don’t have to keep quiet so I don’t wake them up, I don’t have to start walking before I’m ready, I can write and nap, and make a second cup of coffee, and write some more, and eat breakfast, and then hike out when I’m ready.

If you browse back through some of the many adventures that I chronicle on this blog, the routine is the same. I write every morning. That is my jam. That is my happy place. To be alone in nature, writing as the day breaks. I know I’ll get back there, I know it in my bones, so I have that to look forward to. This writing at home is the abnormal part. This writing at home is a placeholder for me in the dark in my tent.

So, instead of recapping this incredible adventure of packrafting a 175 miles of the Owyhee River as a water alternate to the hiking route, I’ll just link to my blog posts here for you. This trip did a great job of encapsulating what I love most about adventures….the going out and not knowing if something can be done, but trying anyway. I didn’t know if one could packraft the Owyhee river in July at 135 cfs, but I wanted to find out, so tried. That is true adventure, and the kinds of adventure I hope to get back to…and by going solo I have learned to rely on myself. I have learned to trust my instincts, trust my training, and trust the world to get me through.

I trust the world to get me through this cancer too.

So here are the posts from my 2-week Owyhee solo packraft trip. Enjoy!

Read about my full Oregon Desert Trail section hike here. (I was the 10th person to complete the route after getting the job to establish it the year before. I had to hike it to know what I needed!)

The end!

March 8 Update: Writing, Reading & Burkina Faso

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Hanging out in Burkina Faso. I spent hours and hours and hours with these guys playing cards.

I have the feeling that I’m very quickly going to slide into the next phase of this cancer journey…the phase where I start feeling better, start leaving the house more, start interacting with the outside world, and slow down on the updates. I’m already missing you and these blog posts.

What will this blog turn into then? 

As you all know I love writing; maybe I’ll continue to devote time to words, maybe I’ll lose interest in the middle-of-the-night journaling thing (especially as I start sleeping more), or maybe I’ll dive into trying to put all of this into a book project (oooo, I said it out loud!). 

No real secret here, but I’ve wanted to write a book since I started reading books…writing and reading have always been two of the most important things in my life, and I revere authors. I do! I’m so lucky to have many friends who have written books, and that makes the prospect achievable and a bit less daunting. 

Here are some books that friends of mine have written:

Wow, I know some talented people! Making this list is also reassuring; I have a lot of resources and knowledge to turn to should I need it. These peeps have gone through traditional publishing houses and self-published. It runs the gamut. I’m not sure which way I would go…but I’m open to your suggestions and stories if you have them.  Please check out the list above; I hope some of you find a new book or two to read. And here’s a plug for independent booksellers: buy from Bookshop.org if you buy online, or your local indy bookseller in person. 

I think a book project will be worth it even if I write something that three people read (I’m looking at you Mom and Dad!), so maybe I’ll start putting something together that could be considered a book. (BTW, what are some good books about the writing process that you know of? I like John McPhee’s Draft #4: On the Writing Process, and Stephen King’s On Writing.)

If I’m diving into writing and reading in this post, I may as well talk about the time I read more books than ever…that’s the two years I spent sweating in my village of Zogore, Burkina Faso where my coping mechanism was reading. I read well over 200 books during that time and spent many, many hours hiding from the sun (and myself) by reading in my mud hut.

How did I even end up going into the Peace Corps in the first place? I can solidly place that portion of my life into the “I want to make a difference in the world” phase. (Hmmm, have I ever left that phase? Debatable.) 

I can tell you what prompted me to turn in my application…

During my junior year of college, it was time to get an internship and put into practice all of the classwork I had been immersed in, which included a smattering of graphic design, communications, and writing courses. I wanted something creative, so I found one of the most creative positions I could in one of the least-creative industries: tractors. Peoria, Illinois was home to the Caterpillar tractors world headquarters at the time, and I found an illustrious position writing for the parts and service support newsletter.

I don’t want to knock Caterpillar. Many of my friends have worked or currently work for Caterpillar (including my brother Jeff), and there are many, many ties between the company and Bradley University. It was a natural fit to find an internship there (and I remember it paid really well!), but as I reported to my cubical in Morton, Illinois, in a sea of cubicles the same size, I quickly became disillusioned. I had a creative gig, oh yes! And the team of people I worked for were some fun creatives as well, but the output left something to be desired. I interviewed people, took photos, wrote articles and I had the great privilege of updating and designing the CCTVs around the Morton facility with the current day’s lunch menu. I alone could choose font colors and fun backgrounds. Fun!

Many of my classmates were gearing up for jobs in advertising agencies, PR firms, or ones like the Caterpillar gig, and I couldn’t be more turned off (sorry, not sorry). At Caterpillar, I worked in a cubical the same size as a guy who had been there 40 years, and I just couldn’t see myself there, so when the Peace Corps popped into my awareness, I jumped at it. 

The application process was long. There were essays to write and letters of recommendation to get. There were medical tests to schedule and interviews to sit for. Honestly, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I wanted to have a grand adventure, and I had no real idea what being a Peace Corps volunteer would mean other than it was the exact opposite of the Caterpillar internship. Joining the Peace Corps would be a giant leap into the unknown, and if there is something I gleaned from reading thousands of books over my lifetime, it was that I had an eagerness for the unknown.

It was during spring break of senior year that I got the news of my Peace Corps assignment; I was going to the francophone country of Burkina Faso. I eagerly grabbed the first world atlas I could find, and there was no Burkina Faso. Hmmm. I had no idea what continent it was on…and couldn’t find it on a globe either. Where was I going???

It turns out Burkina Faso used to be Upper Volta until its name change in the 1980s, and the references I was using pre-dated the name change. (This was before the internet was everywhere…we had to wonder a lot before we had computers in our pockets!) 

Zogore was about 15 kilometers west of Ouahigouya.

Ok, for the sake of time and effort (and a bit of laziness on my part at 2:02am) here is a chat GPT overview on the history on Upper Volta/Burkina Faso:

“Upper Volta, a landlocked country in West Africa, underwent a significant transformation to become Burkina Faso in 1984. This change was spearheaded by Captain Thomas Sankara, a charismatic and revolutionary leader who came to power in 1983 through a coup. Sankara sought to break the country’s ties to its colonial past and foster a sense of national identity and pride. The name “Burkina Faso,” meaning “Land of Incorruptible People” in the Mossi and Dioula languages, symbolized this vision of integrity and unity. Sankara implemented sweeping reforms, including land redistribution, promotion of women’s rights, and campaigns to eradicate corruption and improve health and education. Though his presidency was short-lived, Sankara’s renaming of the country remains a lasting legacy of his effort to redefine its future.”

Upper Volta had been colonized by the French, and Sankara successfully kicked out all the colonizers until his best friend, Blaise Compaoré, killed him and rekindled the foreign influences once again. “The coup was fueled by internal dissent and external pressures from powerful nations and regional actors who were uneasy with Sankara’s radical reforms and pan-Africanist stance. Compaoré’s takeover marked a sharp departure from Sankara’s revolutionary ideals. He justified the coup by accusing Sankara of endangering Burkina Faso’s international relationships. Under Compaoré, the country reverted to policies more favorable to Western interests, prioritizing economic liberalization over the socialist-inspired policies Sankara had championed. Compaoré ruled Burkina Faso for 27 years, during which his administration faced accusations of corruption, repression, and growing inequality, leaving Sankara’s vision of a self-reliant and equitable society unrealized.”

Peace Corps and all the other international development NGOs that typically blanket African nations didn’t start coming back until the 90’s. Our group of 1999 volunteers was only year 4 into the return to the country, and it was an interesting time to be in Africa. Overall, the Burkinabe welcomed us, they weren’t as jaded and corrupted by foreign influence as some of the neighboring countries, and the people still carried the pride of Sankara with them. They were an independent nation for a minute, they were going to be the future of Africa, they were a sign that things could be different.

But it was poor and struggling too.

“In 1999, Burkina Faso was ranked as the third poorest country in the world, with the majority of its population living on less than a dollar a day. The country’s economy was heavily reliant on subsistence agriculture, which employed around 80% of its workforce but remained vulnerable to erratic rainfall and desertification. Cotton was the primary cash crop, but fluctuating global market prices and a lack of industrialization limited its profitability. Burkina Faso’s economy also faced significant challenges, including a lack of natural resources, underdeveloped infrastructure, and limited access to education and healthcare. Despite its poverty, the country received international aid, and efforts were underway to implement structural adjustment programs encouraged by the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund (IMF). However, these reforms often placed a heavy burden on the rural poor, as subsidies were reduced and public services were privatized, exacerbating inequality and slowing progress toward sustainable development.” (thanks again Chat GPT)

So, 1999. I was going to Burkina Faso less than a month after graduating from Bradley; getting on the plane was one of the hardest things I had ever done to that point in my short and sheltered life. As I wrote about the other day, we had a few days in Washington, DC to get oriented before we left the country, and once we got there I just remember the heat. The plane door opening felt exactly like opening the oven door after baking a cake. The rush of hot air was overwhelming, and immediately after disembarking I remember one of our group immediately turned around and decided to go home. That rush of hot air was all it took for the reality of what we had signed up for to rush over her. I think we only lost one volunteer that day, but more dropped off as the three months of training went on. And plenty more left during the next two years. I think we showed up as a group of 45 in June of 1999, and left as a group of 25-30 in the summer of 2001. 

Collaine and I with our host mom during training.

I was surprised to find that I was one of the younger in our group. Many of my fellow volunteers had been working for a while, or were mid-career. Some were on their second Peace Corps tour, and several were quite a bit older. I was very naive about it all; I had envisioned that all of us were there to make a difference and to help make the world a better place. In reality, many of the other volunteers were there for their own personal reasons, and some even joined for a resume builder. These people were the most shocking to me. As soon as these folks got into med school or law school they were gone. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. 

All in all, we bonded hard, that class of 1999. We came from all walks of life and from all over the country, and I still keep in touch with quite a few folks (hello all of you reading this!!) 

Geoffrey, Cindy & Anne in Ouahigouya

So what was my job?? This is a great question. What is the job of the Peace Corps volunteer? It turns out they take the pressure off and consider ⅔ of being a volunteer as a cultural exchange. That means ⅓ of your job is being an American in the country. ⅓ is talking about your experience when you return (I’m working right now!) and ⅓ is the actual job you have been assigned to do in country. I was slated to be a health education volunteer, while many others were teachers. I wasn’t just a health education volunteer either…there were a small sub-section of us that were selected to help eradicate Guinea Worm. I’m not sure why I was selected for this special task, and I was literally freaked out by the prospect.

My AI friend tells me: “Guinea worm disease, a parasitic infection caused by consuming contaminated water, plagued many rural African communities in the late 20th century, trapping millions in cycles of pain and poverty. By the 1980s, the disease was particularly prevalent in countries with limited access to clean drinking water, including Ghana, Sudan, and Nigeria. Former U.S. President Jimmy Carter and the Carter Center took on the eradication of Guinea worm as a major humanitarian mission starting in 1986. Through their efforts, the Carter Center collaborated with local governments, health workers, and international organizations to implement education campaigns, distribute water filters, and improve access to clean water sources. By the end of the 1990s, the eradication program had achieved remarkable progress, reducing the number of Guinea worm cases from an estimated 3.5 million in 1986 to fewer than 100,000 by 2000. This initiative highlighted the power of targeted health interventions and grassroots partnerships to combat neglected tropical diseases.”

One of the chief’s of village had guinea worm…even the chief’s got it!

The Carter administration had invested A LOT into the eradication efforts, and our Peace Corps group was essential to that goal. I was assigned to the small village of Zogore in the northern part of the country (not too far from Mali), and had 15 satellite villages under my purview. All of us volunteers were given shiny new green trek bicycles to get around our villages (riding mopeds was a no-no!), and my job was to help out the small health clinic in Zogore, and make progress in guinea worm eradication. I was also taught to do a health needs assessment and generally be of service to the community.

When I arrived in country, there were about 30 cases of guinea worm in the 15 villages I was in charge of, but the villagers really didn’t see the worm as a problem. You see, guinea worm usually proliferates during a rainy season. In the rainy season, there are more water sources that can be infected, and because the villagers were primarily subsistence farmers, they would drink out of these puddles, some becoming infected. Over the next 9-12 months the worm would grow in the infected farmer and burrow through muscle and tendons, growing about three feet long (ew!). From there it would form a hot boil in the foot or ankle just about the time of the rainy season the next year. To relieve the heat and pressure the farmer would walk into the fresh puddle and the worm would sense this and burst out of the body, sending millions of eggs into the water source, again, creating a nasty infected worm puddle for the next farmer to drink from as he was watering his crops. Essentially, worms were the sign of a good crop year. Worms popping out of the foot meant there would be water for growing food, and food meant there would be eating.

So we had to work against the tide of villagers not really seeing the guinea worm as a problem. 

How did we fight the worm? Sometimes we just passed out simple filters in wooden frames…even filtering the pond water through a t-shirt would be enough to remove the worm larva. Then we had educational materials like picture books that we would bring with us to the villages which showed the life cycle of the worm. 

A side note here: communication was tough. Basically, I had to learn French to communicate with the village health staff, and then the health staff had to speak the local language to the villagers. I walked around with a French/English dictionary most of the time, and got really good at talking around something when I couldn’t find the right word. Most of the villagers didn’t speak French, it was the colonizer’s language after all, they only learned French if they went to school, and many of them didn’t. There were over 50 different local languages in the country, and my region spoke Moore. I did learn some Moore, but not a lot. Not enough to tell them about the life cycle of the guinea worm and why it was a good idea to put your foot in a bucket when you felt the worm blister coming on. If you put your foot in the bucket until the worm popped out, then you could throw the worm juice onto the ground and not infect the rainy season puddles again. 

Interestingly enough, the worm burrowing through the body wasn’t the main health concern, it was the open wound and inevitable infection that would form after the worm popped out. Picture a strand of angel hair pasta coming out of your leg. That’s about how thin the worm was, and the three feet of it didn’t leave the body all in one go, no. It took a few weeks for it to fully exit the leg, so common practice was to wrap the worm around a stick and give the stick a turn or two a day until it had fully come out. Pulling or cutting the worm out wouldn’t do any good…it would then calcify in the body and cause other problems, so the stick method was the way to go. And because these folks were farming shoeless in the dirt, infection on the foot or ankle was all but guaranteed.

Fighting the guinea worm was a challenge. It was an elusive and slow-moving fight. Sometimes, people would show up from the ministry of health with some chemicals that we would pour into a known infected water source, and sometimes a foreign NGO would just show up in the village to build a pump that would bring up clean water, water that couldn’t be infected. But usually, we just had to talk about the life cycle with our picture books and make visits to check in on people. 

Let me tell you, it was crazy how foreign development worked in Burkina. People from random countries would just show up and do things, or build things, or drop things off for the villagers. There was little to no communication ahead of time, and they were often surprised to find a white 20-something american living in the village. Sometimes I would benefit from the visits and get a fun treat or chocolate or something, but often I was a distraction and didn’t fit into their neat narritive of coming to the rescue. 

I loved visiting these guys on market day. They had been scooped up and served in WWII on the front lines before being returned to Burkina.

But, back to my job. The guinea worm stuff didn’t take up a lot of my time. When I did my needs assessment and really spent some time talking with the villagers and observing what many of them came into the health center for during the week, I determined that the greatest health needs of my village were very simple. Many of them came down to keeping the health center clean and reporting the right information back to the Ministry of health. 

Nursing was a civil service job in Burkina Faso, and students from all over the country would go to school then get assigned to a village for a year or two to be a nurse. Same with the teachers that were often found in village. The nurses and teachers were usually not from the area, and they were some of the only other people who could speak French, so they became our friends. But because the nurses weren’t from the village, they didn’t always care so much about the villagers and doing their jobs. 

My first nurse Abdule was a great guy

Overall, I wanted the health clinic to be much cleaner, it was often disgusting. There were bats that roosted in the ceiling and bat droppings would fall onto all the surfaces. The paperwork was usually not filed in an orderly manner, and I spent many hours trying to straighten up and clean things. This was all important because when a villager did come in for a health reason, I didn’t want them to go away with an infection because of a dirty examination room. This was the most pressing health concern.

But the villagers didn’t always come. Many days, I would show up at the health clinic, and there was no one there. I would bring my book, or break out cards to play with the dudes that always seemed to show up and hang out around town. There were no set hours to keep, and no one cared when I showed up or didn’t show up, but with my American, type A personality, I went to the health clinic every day, even if the nurse didn’t leave their house. I would sit under the tree and at least be there. Many, many hours were passed during the two years just sitting under trees. It became difficult at times to feel like I was doing anything of importance, so would console myself in the ⅔ ratio of my job. I was doing ⅔ of my job just by being there! It was ok! I wasn’t failing! 

Drinking millet beer on market day

Actually, making a difference during the Peace Corps was kind of a joke. We volunteers often felt useless. The teachers, too. Sure, teaching was important, but was an American volunteer displacing a local Burkinabe teacher who could have the job? Probably. 

So I read books. I read a lot of books. There wasn’t much else to do. I drank millet beer, played cards, goofed around with the teachers, road my bike, and read. That was about it.

I could dig up countless stories, we had adventures, sure we did! We took vacations to the Ivory Coast where we got caught up in the coup of Christmas 2000, we went to Ghana and Togo. I had to get a root canal and they flew me to Senegal to the dentist! We survived Y2K on a beach, and I lived through stepping on a dirty hypodermic needle in one of the largest hot spots of AIDS in West Africa. Oh, there were the sicknesses too. I got Giardia about 5 times, amoebas, and other such parasites too. But mostly it was me and the books. I became really good at being alone. Sure, I was lonely and thought the world was passing me by, and had to constantly remind myself that I was the one having the adventure. That reading my 134th book was the adventure. 

Actually, reading a book led me to my next big thing, hiking. I picked up There are Mountains to Climb during one of the first months in my village and instantly knew that hiking the Appalachian Trail would be my next thing. I only had two years to wait and think about that one!

But much like hiking, the best part of the whole experience were the people. In fact there is supposed to be a Burkina Faso Peace Corps reunion this August in Portland! It’s not just for our class either; it’s for all volunteers that were in the country, so that should be a blast. 

Cancer Update March 6 (Progress!!!!)

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Napping in front of Mt. Jefferson.

Play this song while reading today’s update. It will help set the tone.

Progress!

I had the last of my radiation treatments this week…the last for a while at least. 

We have radiated what can be radiated, and it’s time to give my new medication a chance to work.

New medication?? Yes, that’s right. 

We have an answer! We have a mutation!

Even though the biopsy last week was a dude, the bloodwork provided the missing link. I officially have my mutation and plan moving forward….put your hands together for EGFR19!

OR not…we don’t want to encourage this thing to thrive any more than it already has. It’s time to show it the door.

So what exactly is the EGFR19 mutation? 

Let’s dive in!

In short, EGFR is a protein found on the surface of both healthy cells and cancer cells. When the protein is damaged because of a genetic mutation, it doesn’t perform the way it should, causing rapid cell growth and helping the cancer spread. So we still don’t know why this protein was damaged, or how, but it must have been something to do with the state of my body last summer/fall; there was just the right combination of environmental and stress factors to make this protein malfunction and start allowing the cancer to have it’s way with my bones.

So the 19 version is actually quite common, and that means is has been studied and there have been medications used to combat it for quite a while. What a relief. My enemy is known, named, and now can be combatted.

EGFR19 accounts for about 60% of lung cancer mutations and is the most common activating mutation in advanced non-small cell lung cancer – that is, people who don’t smoke.

I’m ok not being special here. I’m fine with having the run-of-the-mill lung cancer mutation. I don’t have to be special all the time!

And the medications! There are proven medications I can take. Whew.

Word on the street is that I’m going to start taking Osimertinib soon. We need to give my body a few days to process the last round of radiation, to soak up the chemo that is coming today, and then bam….hello Osimertinib!

I’m happily using lots of !! today. It seemed like an appropriate day to !! it up. 

The brand name for this drug is Tagrisso, and wow, do the drug companies take advantage of us cancer patients to get filfy rich off of our sickness. Just a bit of digging told me that taking this drug could cost somewhere like $17,000 a month for an annual cost of $210,000. WHAT?!?!?!?!🤯

Those are scary numbers. I can’t afford a month, much less a year of the stuff. Fingers crossed for insurance to come in. This is why cancer patients spend all of their savings and go bankrupt. Do the drug companies need to charge us $294.68 per pill? It’s criminal. 

Back to what it does. Osimertinib is a Tyrosine kinase inhibitor (TKI), which means the drug will inhibit the EGFR signaling; in other words, it will slow or stop the growth of cancer cells.

This will be a once-a-day pill that comes with a whole slew of fun side effects, including diarrhea, rashs or dry skin (I’m going to need to be very careful in the sun, especially because the skin rash could look like acne with nasty pus-filled bumps). Oh joy. I might also have nail or hair changes, fatigue, appetite loss, and a cough or respiratory issues. But seriously, all in all, these side effects don’t seem too challenging.

Best of all? This drug can cross the blood-brain barrier, offering benefits in cases of brain metastases. That means it will probably work on the 27 tumors I have floating around in the fluid outside my brain. Hazzah!

So, if my body tolerates and responds to the drug, my survival rate could be as high as 88%! The median overall survival rate is 38.6 months…that’s over three years, which I guess is good? If I can milk the highest success rates out of this drug and do all the other things to stop or slow cancer like focus on exercise, diet, lifestyle, etc, than hopefully, I can live a somewhat normal life? 

I still have the case of the collapsing C7 to deal with, so that’s a wrench in my body’s recovery, but I’ll be seeing someone at the end of the month about that. My collar is due to come off in a few weeks and I’m already working on some neck strengthening exercises so that I can manage the floppy neck, and soon I might  be able to start driving again. Sweeeet. I know my meds will change quite a bit with the introduction of this new drug, and I hope I can come off most of them. 

What else? I need to focus on getting my strength back. I’m walking now, hope to walk a bit more each day, I need to build my muscles back, and I can’t wait to get back into yoga. It still might be a month or more to start doing yoga again because I’ll have to wait a while for the meds to work on the neck and spine and rib tumors. Actually I have no idea how much time any of this will take. I imagine there will be frequent testing to see how I’m responding. And I need to respond because right now I’m still having significant pain in my neck/back/ribs, and I know my bones are compromised. They will need to have a chance to heal before I get all twisty on the mat. 

So time. It sounds like I’m going to need to give my body time to knit itself back together and for the medication to have an effect on the cancer. I have time, though. I filed for disability this week, so that process has started, I have a ton of books to read, I have writing to write, I have some nice puzzles and other projects to work on, I have walking to do, I have friends like you to visit with, I have a birthday party to plan and get excited for, I have nintendo games to play and an endless amount of streaming TV and movie channels to watch. I have all the fun things that come to Bend in the year…hopefully I’ll be able to start interacting with the outside world more soon! 

So yeah, you all are up to date now.

I have my third chemo treatment today with one more on the books for the end of the month, then the new medication to take. 

I’m sooo ready. 

Lets do this thing.

Save the date: Birthday / Get Gone Cancer Party, Sat. June 7 in Corvallis, Oregon

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I’m turning 48 on June 9, and feel like this is the year to go big with all of you and have a party! My dear friend Amber lives in Corvallis on an acre of land, has a wood-fired pizza cart, and offered to host.

We are still working out details, but we are envisioning a Saturday afternoon/evening shin-dig. Folks can camp or get a hotel/air bnb nearby, or just come for a few hours.

We’d get a keg, some wine, a porta potty. Amber will make some pizzas, maybe we have a band or ask some musicians to come and play too?

I’m so excited thinking about how fun this can be!

We’ll probably set up an eventbrite or something to figure out numbers and to help cover costs to throw this party…so more details to come, but for now mark it on your calendar; can’t wait to see you!

Cancer Update March 3 (and Wisconsin!)

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I don’t really know how to think or feel most days. 

Many of you remark on my positivity and resiliency, but I think a lot of that comes down to what my body and mind’s basic operating principles are: to be optimistic and hopeful. I think a lot of my current mental state can still be chalked up to denial, or disbelief. I truely can not conceptualize that I have Stage 4 cancer (at some point I said it was Stage 3, but really it’s Stage 4 due to the levels it has spread in my body…this is all an imprecise science…but at this point I don’t think it’s useful to pretend it’s better than it is). 

I had another biopsy last week to try and figure out what mutation I have and determine the best course of treatment, but somehow that went awry and they sampled plain old bone that doesn’t have tumor. I’m not sure how that’s possible given the CT scanner that was used to try and target the tumor for sampling, but I’m left with a useless test and no more answers than before. I haven’t talked to my oncologist yet about the bum test, I’m sure he’s NOT HAPPY, so I’m not sure if I’ll get scheduled for another, or if he will have enough information from the blood testing that was done a little over a week ago.

Regardless, I’m left in the hazy in-between state of not knowing. I’ve been in this not-knowing place for many months now, and it forces me to live in the present like never before. I really want to plan my year. Typically I would have multiple hikes, trips, local river adventures, etc. mapped out for 2025, but all I can really do are pencil in some ideas about what Kirk and I would like to do, if I’m able, later this year. I am really good at going with the flow, but I’m also a lover of spreadsheets and calendars and get a lot of joy and satisfaction out of planning. For now I’m planning for the maybes. Why not map out a 2-week Portugal Camino walk just in case I can do it at some point this year? Why not think about river trips we might be able to take this year if I’m stable enough? That gives me something to look forward to, and a reason to keep on despite the not-knowing.

The not-knowing is also a great place to look-back. The looking back at past periods in my life has been a fun adventure, and I’ll admit, a challenging one. I posted my PCT video montage a few days ago, and had a complete break-down when I got to the northern Washington section. It probably had a lot to do with my music selections (Phish’s Swept Away (sob!) and David Grey’s Slow Motion (), but also it really brought home the fragileness of life now, life then, and the fact that some people don’t make it out of this cancer journey. Some do pass on to another state. I keep not believing that’s my path, so it’s overwhelming when some of that pierces through my optimism.

I’ve lost people. Missy, my best friend in high school and college lost her cancer battle (lung cancer in a non-smoker!) a year ago in October. It was fast too. From March to October we rallied around Missy (me in my typical disbelief) as she and her wonderful husband Garrett and cutest young son ever, Parker, and her family did everything they could to keep her going. Our group of friends were able to have a video call with her just a week or two before she passed, and I was so grateful to have had that time to connect with her again. I didn’t believe she would actually go, or that I would find myself dealing with something similar a little over a year later. So today I’m going to go back to explore my time in Wisconsin; Missy’s Celebration of Life was the last time I visited Wisconsin in October of 2023. 

Here are a few photos of my dear friend and I:

So here I am, feeling a bit more raw than usual on this Monday morning in March. Wisconsin has always been an important part of my story, and I credit my time(s) there with helping me become the person I am today. 

Wisconsin can be broken down into two phases:

  • Childhood (I was born a cheese head and lived there till I was 12)
  • Post Peace Corps (I moved to Madison for about 7 months in 2001 after I returned from the Peace Corps)

Most excitingly, I have an upcoming trip to attend the International Trails Summit in Madison in mid-April too! I really hope I’m healthy enough to go, and if any of you cheese-heads are reading this and want to connect while I’m there, please let me know! I have a bit of time on the front end, and would be willing to tack on a day or two on the other end as well… 

Childhood

No trip back to my birth would be complete without explaining how my adventurous and amazing parents ended up in the Midwest. For all of the non-traditional life paths I have taken, a pretty big deviation from the technical and engineering-focused life choices of my three brothers, hearing more about the early Wisconsin years puts a lot into context. My folks did a great job of showing me that anything is possible, and that idealism can be a good way to make decisions in life. 

My dad grew up in California in the San Jose area, and joined the Air Force after college. He was stationed in West Virginia when he met my mom in the 70s. My mom found her way to West Virginia from Lafayette, Louisiana when she took a job as a nurse and moved out of the south with her brother, my Uncle Al, also in the Air Force.

Legend has it my uncle was planning to introduce her to a dude named Steve at an Air Force party. She met Steve and it was a quintessential head-over-heels love affair, but as it turned out her Steve wasn’t Uncle Al’s Steve! Didn’t really matter though, my folks were quite taken with each other. The wedding happened a short while later, and that’s when the adventurous spirit that I inherited from them both appeared.

I will probably get some of these details wrong, but essentially my Dad had decided to leave the Air Force, and the plan was my folks would get in a car, road-trip across the country, and find a place to call home along the way. That place happened to be Wisconsin. They made it to central Wisconsin, and happened upon an old farm house in a very rural part of the state that spoke to them. Somehow, the idea of living like the Amish, a kind of back-to-the-earth ethic, was strong at the time, and the white-washed old farm house with apple orchard in the rolling glaciated idyllic Wisconsin was going to be the setting for their new start.

The nearest big cities were Stevens Point (where I was born), and Waupaca (where I went to school), and the farm house was bracketed by the small little towns of Almond and Wild Rose. I mean, just the names sound so picturesque. I don’t remember a ton about the farmhouse, but stronger memories remain from when my folks bought some property and started building their own house by hand a few miles away when I was about 5. Community and friends were a huge part of their (and my life) during that time. My folks formed some strong bonds with other young couples, and we spent many hours together as our the families came together for cider pressing and chicken plucking parties. Many of the families were also doing a homesteading-back-to-the-earth thing in central Wisconsin, and we 70s kids benefited. 

Then there was the earth-bermed house. My parents were very interested in energy efficiency and sustainability at the time, and decided to build an earth-bermed house. It would face south to get the passive solar rays, and have dirt mounded against the sides and back of the house to the roof to help create a stable temperature inside. This earth-bermed house would later be eclipsed by the house they built in Illinois a few decades later, a real earth-ship! The Illinois house was completely ensconced in earth (about 5 feet on top of the poured concrete structure) complete with solar tubes to bring some light into the back corners of the house. My dad called it the hobbit hole, and it was about the coziest place around. They left their hobbit hole in 2020 when they decided to move to Lafayette to be closer to family as they aged, but those houses and the memories of living close to the earth and the natural rhythms of nature left strong mark. 

Wisconsin and our little slice of paradise was the perfect place to grow up. I’m a solid generation X kid, and a true product of the 80s. I don’t think we got more than a few TV channels until I was in high school, and even the VCR got very limited action in our house. My three younger brothers and I spent the majority of our childhoods running around outside, climbing trees, building forts, riding bikes, reading books, and finding ways to entertain ourselves. 

My parents were still quite ensconced in the community vibes of the area after the new house was built, and we had multiple families with kids our ages within biking distance in all directions of our house. We had acres of woods to explore, and there were lakes and ponds and creeks and corn fields that featured heavily in our play. We lived close to several Amish families, and when their horse and buggies would drive past the house, we would play dodge-the-horse-poop on our bikes. Sometimes we would visit them to buy fresh eggs and marvel at the peacocks that would parade in their yard. My parents let us on a looooong leash, and we would often spend all day adventuring with our friends in the woods. Because I had three younger brothers, I would need to find my own escapes, and would often climb a tree with a book to find some quiet. I became quite attached to reading books outside…one of my great loves to this day. I 100% believe this upbringing is what paved the way for me as an adult to be so comfortable outside, with being alone in the wilderness, with change and uncertainty…I learned how to occupy myself. I learned to find awe and wonder in nature. I learned how important friends and community were, and grew up with the wisdom of Mr. Rodgers and Sesame Street guiding my upbringing. It was as good as it could get.

When I was 12, my Dad, who had been working in computing at the University of Wisconsin, Stevens Point, took a job at Bradley University in Peoria, Illinois. I remember this time with excitement and anticipation… perhaps that was because I was on the cusp of my teenage years and the premise of moving to a larger town with malls and more boys was quite exciting. I was solidly into my New Kids On the Block obsession phase, and did I mention boys? 

Post Peace Corps

It wasn’t until 2001 that I returned for my second Wisconsin phase, the post-peace corps pre Appalachian Trail time. It was all because of Cindy that I returned to Wisconsin. Cindy was a fellow volunteer, and I remember meeting her at the beginning of our Peace Corps time. We spent a few days in Washington DC in the summer of 1999 when we all had to report for the start of our service, and got whisked around town for a few days getting LOTS of shots and going through various orientations. It was a bewilderment of activity…but I remember sitting next to Cindy on the bus and discovering our Wisconsin connection.

Fast forward to training…we lived with host families in Bobo-Dioulasso during the first three months while we were in country. Cindy and Mia’s family lived fairly close to us (I roomed with Collaine…and fun fact, all four of us are currently Oregonians!), so she became part of my core friend group…which was cemented when we received our village assignments and were both sent to the far northern part of the country. Cindy and I both traveled to the regional center of Ouahigouya to get things like mail and interaction with other volunteers. We spent long hours playing cards, drinking beer, and sweating under the hot hot sun. More to come on the years we were in Burkina Faso, but it was during the first few months of my service that I had decided that I would hike the Appalachian Trail when I was done, and somehow convinced Cindy to hike it with me.

When our time was coming to an end in 2001 and I was still planning to hike the AT in 2002, Cindy convinced me to move up to Wisconsin and spend the fall/winter in Madison as we prepared for the hike. It was an easy sell…I found a job at the university, moved into a group house with some of Cindy’s college friends, and embraced my cheese-head origins for a short while.

How would I characterize this second Wisconsin phase? To start I’d encourage you to play Brian Eno’s Ambiant 1 Music for Airports.

The house I lived in was off of Monroe Street (near the football stadium and Lake Wingra) and was pretty crunchy. What do I mean by that? My housemates listened to records, we didn’t have a TV, they brewed beer and were very wholesome. A record I played over and over and over was Peter’s Ambiant Music for Airports. This became my musical touchpoint for this phase of life. 

I got a job in the Department of Landscape Architecture at the University of Wisconsin Madison, and while I didn’t really have a background or much interest in landscape architecture, it was a very Wisconsin department to work in. I ended up really loving the professors and faculty that I worked with, and this is where some seeds were planted in my brain, or the seeds of influence started overlapping. There is a big conservation ethic and history to Wisconsin, and several influential people like Aldo Leopold and John Muir were also cheese-heads.

Leopold was extremely important to the Landscape Architecture department as he experimented with the revolutionary notion of restoring ecosystems damaged by human activity, both on his own land along the Wisconsin River and at the university’s arboretum. In his book, A Sand County Almanac, he weaves science, history, humor, and prose to articulate the bond between people and the natural world with the hope that people would treat the land with love and respect…an ethic and operating principle that I now hold central. I seek to use long-distance hiking as a way to deepen our connection with the natural world. If we can understand that we are a part of nature, and that what happens to the natural world is happening to us, we will act differently.

So this Wisconsin time was fruitful. Ideas and influences were taking root. Philosophies and ethics were germinating, and this whole time was one great meditative and contemplative phase for me. Cindy was living in Milwaukee at the time, and we would meet occasionally to hike and talk about gear (neithor of us really knew what we were doing with the whole hiking/backpacking thing), but we kind of figured some things out that winter. I didn’t know many people in town, so spent many hours walking the city, reading books, visiting coffee shops, and generally flaneuring my way around town.

I didn’t have a lot to do as a student liaison in the Department of Landscape Architecture, so I took it upon myself to find useful projects to keep my brain busy and help out. I decided to redesign their website, so I taught myself web design using Dreamweaver (the platform of the day) and had great fun designing the website after a technical landscape architecture rendering. This was when I started to apply my design skills to whatever I happened to be working on, and credit a lot of my creativity and out-of-the-box thinking to trying to be useful and learn something wherever I happen to be. I also took it upon myself to archive the department’s records, which stretched back decades. I carefully organized and catalogued file box after file box of papers and materials that choked the office. It was a way of keeping myself busy, which was the main goal. There is nothing I hate more than having to pretend to be busy or occupied. I’d much rather give myself a daunting and impossible task than have nothing to do. 

All in all, this second phase of Wisconsin life was fairly short and sweet. In the spring of 2002, Cindy and I made our way out east and started hiking the Appalachian Trail…something that obviously has become the passion and obsession of my life. 

My April trip back to Wisconsin is going to be a wonderful overlapping of all of these worlds. The nonprofit American Trails puts on an International Trail Summit every two years, and their Executive Director, Mike Passo, happens to call Marshfield, Wisconsin home (Marshfield wasn’t too far from where I grew up). I’ve been getting to know Mike and Candace at American Trails since I started my consulting business two years ago, and gave a webinar presentation through their weekly series right after I started. Give it a watch if you like!

When I started my second business, Intentional Hiking, in the fall of 2023, I hosted American Trails during my launch event and our connections continue to this day as they might take on some of the work I had planned for 2025. More to come on this come, but I’m very grateful for the work American Trails does!

So for all of you Wisconsin people that may read this blog post, like I said in the beginning, if you want to connect while I’m there, please let me know asap and we can try and make something happen.

It’s about time for either another cup of coffee or a green tea, so I’m going to sign off and see about this Monday.

Cancer Update 2/28 (and a 2007ish trip down memory lane)

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Wow, my brain on sleep is magical.

Sleep feels like a wonder drug right now…especially when I don’t get it on a regular basis. And it breaks my heart that so many of you also struggle to get regular sleep! It seems like an epidemic of sorts. My hope for all of you, for us together during this time, is to cultivate better sleep habits…our brains need it, our bodies need it, our communities need it. 

Will you do that with me? 

What is one action you could take to work towards better sleep? 

One that I have been avoiding but seems the simplest to do is to stay in bed until at least 3am. I did not do that today. I woke up several times as usual, but got out of bed at about 1am. If I can stay put and at least try to sleep until 3am (given my usual 7pm bedtime) that would mean I’m giving myself a chance at 8 hours. I pledge to do that the rest of the week. Pinky swear. 

So biopsy. I had my deep bone biopsy yesterday at St. Charles Hospital in Bend. I had to get propped up on my stomach so they could take the sample; it was a CT-guided biopsy of the ovoid mixed lytic and sclerotic osseous lesion within the L4 vertebral body….that means they put me through a CT scanner to find the meatiest tumor which happened to be in my back rib. I was awake during all of it, but was pumped full of pain medications, so I felt pressure when the doctor pushed a drill into my bone, but not pain. Very trippy.

The doctors and nurses were most kind, and the world being the magical place that it is, I even had a connection with my recovery nurse when we found out that we had thru-hiker friends in common. Thank you world, you show me support in the most unexpected places!

Lets see, shall we go down memory lane again today? Lets explore the time after my Pacific Crest Trail thru-hike…that hike was so exhilarating and transformative that I decided I needed to find a job outside, somehow related to hiking. No matter that I had just gotten my master’s degree a few years before; I felt a very strong pull to the hiking community and wanted to immerse myself in that world. (Grad school happened at Goldsmiths College in London from 2003-2004 following my Smithsonian internship and will be a story for another day).

I finished the PCT on September 20 with Nemo and Pouch, and returned to Portland to figure out what the heck I would do next. 

A triumphant She-ra at the PCT border monument.

One of the best things about hiking the PCT in 2006 was meeting NEMO.

Pouch and NEMO fell in love on the PCT and now are married and live on a farm in upstate NY! They are some of my best friends to this day.

This seems like a good place to tease my own PCT photo montage video that I made. This one isn’t as long as the class of 2006 one that Pro-Deal made, but at 45 minutes, it’s a commitment!

When I returned to Portland after the trail I found a new place to live…before the PCT I had been living in a group house in SE Portland on 44th and Lincoln (near Mt. Tabor), and this time I found another room to rent up in NE near the Lloyd Center. I didn’t go back to my graphic design job, and instead worked as a metal roofer for a few months.

I know! Random, right? Metal roofing? What the heck?

I became good friends with several other Portland hikers while we were hiking the trail that year, and it seemed like a good temporary job to work with them for the winter on metal roofs. In retrospect, metal roofing in the cold/wet/gray/rainy season of the Willamette Valley in Oregon wasn’t a brilliant move, but because I was working with friends, it was a pretty fun winter gig.

Luigi and Lint and I had spent some good time on the trail together that year; and as for the job, most days we carpooled together down to a Portland suburb to work. I didn’t know what the heck I was doing, but I am pretty good at following directions so was able to figure it out and do a passable job. A kayaker friend of a friend owned the business, and there was a whole group of us hikers/kayakers who worked together. 

Those few months in Portland were so much fun. We were big bike nerds then and got into the whole bike-punk, zoo-bomb scene, which basically meant we rode kids bikes and tall bikes around town; we went on midnight mystery bike rides and got into a whole bunch of other shenanigans. Too much fun!

Here are some more pics from that time…

So during this time I was also trying to figure out what a job in the outdoors meant, and how I would get one. Another friend I made on the trail that year was Jack “Union” Haskel, who ended up being a pretty big influence on my next few career moves. I learned that getting certified as a Wilderness First Responder would help me get a job in the outdoor industry, so that winter I took the 80-hour course so I could be qualified to lead trips in the outdoors.

We also decided to apply to be the Backpacker Magazine’s Get Out More team, which would have meant traveling the country in 2007 and talking to people about hiking and camping and all things backpacking. We didn’t get the gig, but I started applying my graphic design and writing skills to outdoor work, which is still a big part of what I do today.

I designed our Get Out More Team Application to look like pages from Backpacker Magazine.

I applied for a bunch of seasonal jobs for the 2007 season, and finally got some traction with the Southwest Conservation Corps (SCC) which was based out of Durango, Colorado. Trail work was another side of the trail community that seemed essential to the thru-hiking world, so I found an Americorps program where I could train to become a trail crew leader with SCC and then lead trail maintenance crews around Colorado that year. I knew I was in the right place at the right time when I had my interview and learned that SCC had just hired a new Executive Director, Nelson Cronyn, who just happened to be my Peace Corps Burkina Faso Country Director! What a small world is that!?!?! 

I left Portland in February of 2007 to head down to Durango for a few months of crew leader training, and jumped in head-first to the trail maintenance world.

Of course I met some amazing people down there, and folks who I am happy to still call friends today.

In fact, Amber is coming to visit me TODAY!

Amber and I led a group of tribal youth in a front-country hitch in Colorado that year, and have remained friends ever since. She now lives in Corvallis, Oregon with her wife Anne…You may remember I just mentioned Amber in a recent blog post, we hiked the Corvallis to Sea Trail together a few years ago. Amber still puts her trail work to good use and has been instrumental in keeping the C2C trail clear of logs…she is great on the chain saw!

Amber, me, Laurie, Nicole, Jonah, Artec & Carith (one of our leaders) in the Great Sand Dunes.
Amber has skills.

Learning how trails are built and maintained has been core to how I’ve progressed in my career and as a hiker, and my time at the Southwest Conservation Corps was elemental in that journey. Over the next seven months we worked in places like Canyon of the Ancients, Mesa Verde, and the Great Sand Dunes; there were hitches in state parks and on backcountry trails; and I learned how to build massive rock and log retaining walls, cut down trees with hand tools and chain saws, and so much more. 

All the time I was working around Colorado that year, the promise of the next trail I would hike was always hovering in the background. Durango happens to be the southern terminus of the Colorado Trail, and overlaps with quite a bit of the Continental Divide Trail too.

I decided to do a solo thru-hike of the Colorado Trail that fall and hiked out of Durango in mid-August and walked up to Denver (some 500ish miles) by the end of September. 

You can read all about that hike on trail journals here:

And you can watch my video montage of the hike here: 

That will do it for me today everyone, thanks for coming down memory lane with me, I’m really enjoying it!

Cancer Update 2/26

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This photo comes into play later on in today’s blog post (CDT 2015!). For over 10 years of adventures give my Instagram account @wearehikertrash a follow.

First of all, thank you so much for all of your sleep suggestions, advice, tips, etc. The last few nights have been much better, I’ve been clocking in at 5 or 6 hours of sleep which is a huge improvement over last week, and have implemented a few new things after talking to some of you and my doctors:

  • Using sleep stories on platforms like Calm and Headspace. These are brilliant. I start a story and get invested. I listened to one last night about Mont Saint-Michele in France, a place I’ve always wanted to go since learning more about France in high school french classes, and the initial details really captivated me and brought me in, but as the story progressed maybe the details got more mundane, or I was getting lulled by the voice, but I don’t remember…cause it worked! I fell asleep. I think these sleep stories will be key for me coming up, especially if I am waking every few hours…which after talking with a lot of you seems very common! We collectively have trouble sleeping solid nights. 
  • More meds. A lot of you suggested THC/CBD products, and some of you told me about other medications. I met with my palliative care doc this week and we talked about sleep, and we decided to try trazodone for a while. I don’t like taking meds, before all of this cancer stuff I almost never took medications and preferred a natural way if at all possible, but given I’m on 437 different meds now I’ve kind of given in and will try the pharmaceutical way for now.
  • Limit screen time. I was in the habit of picking up my phone when I would wake every few hours, to check the time, first, but then I would start scrolling. Which is all new for me, again before cancer I didn’t sleep with my phone in the room. So many things have changed with how I live my life now! I didn’t have my phone in the room, so would have to get up when the alarm went off in the mornings, and didn’t have the temptation to scroll. If I needed to get sleepy in the before times, I would read a few pages of a book and that would put me out. I don’t have that problem at least because of the HUSO sound therapy. I listen to that when it’s bedtime and I’m out. So anyway, I haven’t been picking up the phone as much, and I think that’s been helping.

What have I been up to this week? I don’t know, the days seem to melt into each other and it’s hard to determine what day is what. But I do have a big day coming up tomorrow, I get another biopsy! The two I had done in December ended up being useless, at least for what we need to know now about my genetic mutation, so I am doing it all over again tomorrow. I get a deep bone biopsy and it’s a legit procedure, so no food tomorrow and only clear liquids. 

We are going with Foundation One testing, and the biopsy tomorrow combined with the blood draw I had last week should tell us what we need to know! So of course lets look into this Foundation One:

  • The company says they are an essential partner to patients, physicians, researchers, and biopharma organizations navigating the complex landscape of cancer care. Their genomic insights help guide informed decisions about treatment plans and research priorities. They built a powerful portfolio of comprehensive genomic profiling (CGP) tests that—via both blood and tissue samples—evaluate more than 300 genes known to drive cancer.
  • Liquid CDx: I had the labs drawn last week, and apparently this test is an FDA-approved companion diagnostic that analyzes guideline-recommended genes from a simple blood draw. It analyzes over 300 genes—making it the most comprehensive FDA-approved liquid biopsy on the market. Sounds good to me!
  • I believe the biopsy tissue sample will also be sent to Foundation One, and they will put it through their fancy-schmancy testing system to give us an even better picture of what the heck I’m dealing with.

So hopefully we’ll know more soon (I’m not sure what soon means…weeks? A month?) about the specific mutation(s) I have and what kinds of treatments are available for it.

I’m also going to get another radiation blast to my ribs…my ribs have been achy with the tumors and slight fracture I have going on in one of them, so we’re going to hit it again next week right before my third round of chemo. 

I’m telling you, its a full time job to have cancer.

What else do I have going on? The hospital provides Reiki, so I’m doing some of that. My PT is coming over this week, so we’ll go over exercises now that I’m out of the wheelchair and walking around the house. I did a lot of walking yesterday at the hospital trying to get some labs done, and it felt good, and I’m a little sore today. It’s been super mild outside in Bend, so I think I’ll try some outside time here soon. I’m trying not to go too hard too fast, yesterday was quite exhausting by the time we finally got home. It’s going to take me a while to get back into walking outside every day condition again, but it’s on the horizon!

Lets go to intermission 

Are you an Oregonian who loves hiking?

As many of you know, I enjoy hiking so much that I’ve become much more active in joining in with other trail advocates around the state to share our love of trails and strategize how we can work together to defend our current trails and build the trails we envision.

YOU CAN JOIN US TOO by registering today for Trails Day at the Oregon Capitol on March 10.

For the Love of Trails! 2025 Trails Day at the Oregon Capitol Tickets, Mon, Mar 10, 2025 at 9:00 AM | Eventbrite

What will happen on Monday March 10 in Salem?

  • 8:30-9:00 am: Attendees arrive at our training venue about a half mile from the capitol to sign in and pick up up a schedule, training materials and talking points, and materials to share with legislators. (There will be coffee and light snacks!)
  • 9:00-10:30: Welcome and training: We’ll let attendees know what to expect, go over tips for a productive meeting with your legislators, and give a primer on our key issues.
  • 10:30-11:00: Small group practice and Q&A.
  • 11:00-4:30: Grab a (free) sack lunch and head to the Capitol for meetings with legislators and/or legislative office staff. Expect to have 2-4 small group meetings (generally 15 minutes) scheduled during the afternoon. We’ll ask each meeting group to share a short meeting report so we can track support for our issues and respond to any questions that legislators or staff may have. (You don’t have to have all the answers!)
  • 5:00-6:30: (Optional) Join a group of trails advocates at the Joint Committee on Transportation Meeting. (We don’t yet know if there will be a public comment opportunity during this meeting, but it’s a great opportunity to see a bit of the legislative process at work.)
  • 4:00-7:00: (Optional) As you wrap up your meetings, join other trails day participants for camaraderie, an informal debrief, and a bite at a local watering hole before heading home!

What are we asking for? Our platform is straightforward!

  • Oregonians love trails! More than 80% of Oregonians use local trails and are happier, healthier and more connected to their communities because of it.
  • Oregonians want to keep our trails open! We’re working toward a lasting legislative fix to recreational immunity through passage of SB 179 with amendments.
  • Oregonians want alternatives to walking, biking, running, and skating on high-traffic roadways! We must address the funding shortfall for the Oregon Community Paths program as part of a safe, green, fairly-funded transportation funding measure.
  • Oregonians want to see beloved trail projects move forward! We must continue to build on recent planning efforts for Oregon Signature Trails like the Salmonberry Trail and Oregon Coast Trail and not let those plans gather dust on a shelf.
  • Oregonians love trails! More than 80% of Oregonians report using local trails, so of course we want our state legislators to partner in the work to keep trails open and build the trails we envision for our communities.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to be (game time decision?)  in Salem on March 10, which is why I’d like to ask you to consider going on my behalf!

I went last year and many of us were learning to speak up and have meetings with our electeds for the first time. It wasn’t that scary! I wrote up a blog post about how it all went last year so you can give it a read and decide if this is something you would like to participate in. You don’t need to be affiliated with a trails group, and you don’t need to be a hiker! The Oregon Trails Coalition represents motorized and non-motorized trail users, and there are lots of issues we can combine our voices on together. 

A hiker, biker, and equestrian walk into the Oregon State Capitol

Memory time

Early this morning I got an email from Mark Trails (one of my CDT hiking buddies) with a photo that brought back a flood of memories.

Instead of rehashing these first few days going into Colorado with Mark, trying to ski the trail, and getting spit out, I’m going to redirect you to my blog posts from those days to help tell the story of one of the hardest weeks of my life on the trail.

Here are a series of links to my blog that will explain everything:

That was a good chapter of the CDT, things got a bit easier from there, actually did they? No, they didn’t. 

Mark Trails and I went low again, he had a scary fall when we headed back to the trail from Creed. I lit myself on fire and had to walk with 3rd degree burns to Salida, and wow, I guess the brutality didn’t end at Durango. Keep reading my blog to get all the deets!! (at the bottom of each day’s blog post will be a link to the next day) 

That’s it for today kids. Have a good one.

Cancer Update 2/25/25 (but really this one is about the 8 months I lived in Washington D.C.)

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It’s hard not to do a deep dive into a past life when friends send you cards, videos, and memorabilia from old adventures. I’ve been reliving so many of these lives this year that it has brought a real vivaciousness to what can sometimes be old and stale memories.

A wellspring that keeps on giving is my Pacific Crest Trail thru-hike in 2006. When anyone asks what my favorite trail is, it’s hard to keep from gushing all over the PCT that year. And I say THAT YEAR. Every year on a long trail can have an entirely different vibe and flavor. Much of that can be determined by the weather, and the specific hazards of that year, but for me it almost always comes down to the people. 

The people in 2006 are what made the trail so special for me, and judging by the number of folks I’m still connected to from that hike 19 years ago, I was not alone in basking in the afterglow of humanity we met that year. We were bonded by something that year. It could have been record level snows in the Sierra that forced us to hike in groups and look out for each other at hazard points. It could be that we were hiking before GPS and smartphones, so again, had to dig deep, read the terrain, and help those who weren’t as familiar with navigation (Note: that was me! I learned so much from my fellow hikers about reading maps and terrain that year…and I’m a much different hiker for it!). It could have been the fire that closed the Canadian border to us until right at the end when it opened again. It could have been so many things.

So, you might indulge me in this blog post because I’m going to go deep. What was it like to hike 2,663 miles from the Mexican to the Canadian border? 

This photo will help kick us off:

This is a little of the flavor I brought to the trail that year. I think the flavor was “CRAZY”.

How about some backstory?

My real initiation into the thru-hiking life began four years prior when I thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail in 2002 (another story for another day). Suffice to say, I was hooking on the walk all day everyday thing, and knew that I wanted to keep my nomadic nature alive in the future, but wasn’t sure how or when.

After the Appalachian Trail, I had committed myself to figuring out the whole career thing. Shortly after finishing the AT and returning home to my parent’s house in Peoria, Illinois, I found myself stitching together a series of jobs to make ends meet. I made coffee drinks and slung pastries at Panera and was a cashier at Kohls, I can’t even remember the other odd jobs I had during those months at home, but they were the kind of jobs where I would occasionally run into old classmates from Dunlap High School or Bradley Univerisity and try to decide if I would hide and try to escape notice, or embrace it and tell them my story. That I was working there because I was between adventures (having just finished two years in the Peace Corps and a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail), as a way of explaining why I was buttering their bagel, but it really served to push me to figure out the next thing. No offense to buttered bagels. Love them. 

I was an english major and graphic design minor in college, and LOVED design and information. Information design. I wasn’t quite sure what that could or would look like, but I knew I wasn’t interested in the traditional career options of advertising or PR like many of my Bradley classmates. I wanted something different, something that made a difference in the world, something exciting. 

During the months at home, I was scouring the internet for internship ideas and hit on one in Washington DC at the Smithsonian. They needed an exhibition design intern for the National Portrait Gallery. Interestingly enough, I had been thinking a lot about exhibition design as a career choice. As an exhibition designer I would be concerned with how a person would interact with a three-dimensional space, how I could tell a story or relay information within that three-dimensional space that would inspire, educate, inform, excite, etc., so I applied to the internship and promptly continued buttering bagels. I mean, the chances of landing an unpaid dream-gig like that halfway across the country seemed like a pipe dream. 

Nothing much was happening in the way of job prospects that winter, so I made plans with my AT hiking buddy, Cindy, to move out to Portland Oregon, and try life out there. I knew that I wanted to hike the Pacific Crest Trail and I figured at least moving out west would bring that step a bit closer. I would have to get a job for a while to save up money and establish myself, but Portland seemed like a solid decision. 

Come January 2003, I was two weeks away from my Portland move when I got a piece of mail from the National Portrait Gallery. I got the internship!!!

My first I thought no way, too late. I already had my plane ticket to Portland, I had a place to stay until I could find a long-term rental and there were just too many things in motion to pick up and change directions so suddenly.

Then I woke up. I mean, come on!! Miss this opportunity??? No way. I changed plans, accepted the position, and threw my future into the wind. I was moving to DC, baby!

Fortunately, I had a number of friends from the Peace Corps who lived in DC, and I was able to couch hop for a while until I found a room to rent up on Wisconsin Avenue by American Univesity. And what a room! For the tidy sum of $525 a month, I had a walk-through room in a big group house. A walk-through meant my roommate had to walk through my room to get to hers. This whole set-up was very college-ageish temporary. I had a mattress on the floor, no furniture, and no privacy. It was all good. My internship was 30-hours a week, and I had to get a job so I could afford to live there, so I worked approximately 30 hours a week at Armond’s Pizza around the corner…I was barely there anyway. BUT my housemates were all pretty rad. They were a very diverse bunch, one worked for the Fullbright program, several were in grad school, and several I just can’t even remember. We lived in a pretty nice neighborhood up on Wisconsin Avenue, and I got to know the surrounding neighborhoods really well as I walked and walked and walked them. If you didn’t know, I like to walk, and one of the the best ways to get to know a new city (especially if you are a broke 20-something) is to walk everywhere, and I did.

For work every day I would hop in the metro and take the train down to the middle of DC. I was officially the exhibition design and production intern and an intern at Center for Electronic Research & Outreach Services at the National Portrait Gallery. The two teams split my time in half. And for all of you who vaguely know that the Smithsonian is a big museum in DC, it’s actually a collection of big museums in DC. 

The Smithsonian Institution is the world’s largest museum, education, and research complex, with 21 museums, 14 education and research centers, and the National Zoo. I was going to be working at just one of the museums, and it didn’t even have a physical space while I was there.

The National Portrait Gallery had recently decided to relocate to the old Patient office. The building was undergoing renovations (I got to take several tours of the gutted building while I was there; one of the big to-dos happened when they found some civil-war era graffiti on the wall from when the building served as a hospital for wounded civil-war soldiers. That’s pretty cool!)

The National Portrait Gallery was going to share the space with the Smithsonian American Art Museum, and it was all a very exciting time; the museum directors were in the middle of re-thinking and re-imagining what these museums would look like. Think about one exhibit that might be shown there: perhaps a permanent collection like the Hall of Presidents. I got to sit in on conversations that discussed things like: Would we hang their portraits at eye level with the public, which would make for a much more humanizing view into the leaders of our country? Or should they be hung up where we had to look up to them, venerate them, celebrate them? What kind of objects would we place next to their portraits? What colors would we use? How much and what information would be on each label next to each piece of art? These decisions were far beyond my intern position, but it was endlessly fascinating to think about…and these were questions that would be at the center of each exhibition that I would be involved with. It was so exciting!

And here you thought you’d be learning more about my Pacific Crest Trail hike, it just goes to show you where 3am brain goes! (BTW, I had a WONDERFUL night of sleep last night. I almost got in a solid 6 hours! #winning, so I think I’m firing on all cylinders today…or most of them anyway)

My main point of contact for the exhibition position was Caroline. And Caroline was amazing. She was the museum’s graphic designer and was in charge of all things graphics for the museum. She really took me under her wing and made sure my internship was so much more than hanging one exhibit while I was there. We took tours of all the museums, often to the collection areas where a vast array of objects never get displayed to the public. Check this out:

The Smithsonian Institution—the world’s largest museum and research complex—includes 19 museums and galleries and the National Zoological Park. Currently, the total number of artifacts, works of art and natural science specimens in the Smithsonian’s collections is approximately 155 million. The bulk of this material—more than 145.8 million specimens and objects—is part of the National Museum of Natural History. In addition, Smithsonian collections include 162,000 cubic feet of archival material and 2.1 million library volumes.

Among the vast collections are irreplaceable national icons, examples of everyday life and scientific material vital to the study of the world’s scientific and cultural heritage. The objects in Smithsonian collections range from insects and meteorites to locomotives and spacecraft. The scope is staggering—from a magnificent collection of ancient Chinese bronzes to the Star-Spangled Banner; from a 3.5 billion-year-old fossil to the space shuttle Discovery; from the ruby slippers featured in The Wizard of Oz to presidential paintings and memorabilia. Collection items vary in size, from the Concorde at 202 feet to the Fairfly wasp at .0067 of an inch. The largest single collection is Natural History’s invertebrate zoology collection with more than 49.8 million specimens, ranging from corals and vent worms to parasites and squid.

Only a small portion of the Smithsonian’s collections (estimated at less than 1%) is on display in the museums at any given time. Many collections are acquired and solely used for research purposes utilized by scientists and scholars from all over the world. Whether they are acquired from the depths of the oceans, tropical rainforests, archaeological sites, everyday life, or even extra-terrestrially, Smithsonian collections are preserved and maintained for public exhibition, education, and study.

And I nerded out on all of it. Moving to DC was one of the best decisions I made during this time of my life, and working at the Smithsonian helped me decide to apply to grad school in museum exhibition design. DC helped me go all in on information design. 

So what did I do for my internship? Well, because we didn’t have a physical museum to work in, Caroline and the curators worked on getting a temporary gallery space to hang A Portrait of the Art World exhibit. We exhibited at the S. Dillon Ripley Center which was notable for the underground building’s copper-domed entrance between the “Castle” and the Freer Gallery of the National Museum of Asian Art. The Ripley Center also connects to the African Art Museum and the Sackler Gallery of the National Museum of Asian Art.

The exhibition consisted of 100 original vintage prints of photographs reproduced in the ARTnews magazine since it began publication as Hyde’s Weekly Art News in 1902. Included were portraits of both European and American artists by a cross-section of such noted photographers as Zaida Ben-Yusuf, Alice Boughton, Hans Namuth, and Richard Avedon. 

I worked with Caroline and the other exhibition designers on the show, as they decided on colors, labels, label content, label style, label fonts, brochures, exhibition signage, exhibition press, and one of my favorite parts of the job, directing the museum’s cabinet maker in making stands, cases, walls, and pretty much any kind of furniture or display element that would be used in the show. 

I got to spend hours with David in his cabinet shop, and I loved it. This guy could make anything. He had an amazing array of skills and tools and could take Caroline and the other’s vision for a display case and make it come alive. David also initiated me into the world of packing and unpacking the priceless works of art. I told you that each museum has an extensive collection of objects, and the exhibits throughout the year will pull from these collections to tell the story the curators decide to tell for each show. This means extensive and impressive systems for storing and preserving the art. Because we were a portrait gallery, there were thousands and thousands of portraits in collections, and each one of those portraits had to be packed and crated (and uncrated) when it was time to hang a show. One day David gave me a power drill and instructed me to open a Roy Lichtenstein painting. Oh boy, my hands shook, and I gladly handed over the drill once I got the first few screws out. I didn’t want to be responsible for a slight slip of the hand that could have massive implications for the painting. 

I felt like I was operating on a different level the whole time I was in DC. I was doing it. I was there. This was exciting and important. 

One of the fun projects Caroline had me working on was to come up with a series of swag that could be sold in gift shops that would commemorate some of the paintings from the ArtNews exhibition. Now in the real world these swag items had been designed and put into production months and months ago. For example, in the Smithsonian gift shop, you might be able to buy a silk scarf that carries a motif from one of the paintings on display in the exhibition. Just coming up with the design is one thing, then a vendor and production facility would have to be found, a display created, and just like the show was a curated affair, so is the gift shop. Each exhibition has a carefully selected set of note cards, gift items, memorabilia, and more to commemorate the exhibit. Caroline’s project for me was more of a fun assignment than a real-life opportunity, but I had so much fun with it. I came up with a bunch of different designs based on some of the paintings in the show…and I still have the project as an item in my portfolio. (remember those? Artists types had actual portfolios with pieces of work they had done over the years?)

So Caroline and I had great fun with graphics and hanging the show, but that was just half of my job. I reported to the other side of the building in the afternoons where I worked with Linda Thrift to help digitize portraits of the presidents. At the time I was part of an effort to build the Catalog of American Portraits. The goal of CAP was to build a body of information about portraits of “historically important figures” in collections everywhere, public and private, using a team of researchers who would photograph, measure, and record available information on a portrait-by-portrait basis.

What this meant for my day-to-day was hours and hours of photoshop work, and I primarily digitized photos of President George Washington. The museum had staff that would get to do the fun stuff, like track down said portraits (many were well known, but many others surfaced over the years….how many portraits of George Washington are out there? Thousands).

I scanned in the physical photos of each portrait and photoshopped each image so it would be color-corrected, cropped, scaled, made to fit within the digital container of the CAP system. It wasn’t the sexiest job in the world, but I often got to put my headphones on and photoshop the afternoon away. I had great fun getting to know the others who worked on the project, one of my favorites being Warren Perry who was a wonderful excentric who brought life and color to the room. I went back to look for some email exchanges with Warren and my search uncovered this little tidbit that gives him a bit more color: “I am writing a play as part of the NPG public programming for the re-opening and it is based on Walt Whitman’s time there as a nurse.” I mean, how fun and cool is that?

All in all my time at the Smithsonian was quite short. I applied to grad school while I was working there, and narrowed down my choices to about 5 schools, only 2 of which accepted me for the fall of 2003: The Univesity of the Arts in Philadelphia, and Goldsmiths College in London. Guess which one I chose? When I learned that I could get federal loans to go to school abroad and that their grad program was about half as expensive and could be completed in just over a calendar year compared to the University of the Arts’s 2-year program, it was a fairly easy decision. And my boyfriend at the time was living in London going to the London School of Economics, so that was a point in favor of moving overseas. 

I wrapped up my time at the National Portrait Gallery by that August and was flying across the pond for the fall semester later that month. My time in DC though, really helped cement in my mind that I could do anything I wanted, and it was worth going for gold. It was worth putting in for the job I might not get, or the grad school application that might not get accepted. What if I did get the job and I was accepted? What then?

I’ve been living in the space of what is possible for years now. And it’s a good place to be. Imagine big, go big, deliver big, and you will be handsomely rewarded for your efforts. Oh, and make friends along the way. I can still touch base with many of these folks I worked with in DC all these years later and share stories and a laugh. People make all of these experiences and adventures truly come alive.

Well here I am and there was more I wanted to tell you about my DC experience…the Armond’s Pizza chapter of my life was a whole other world into itself! And then grad school…that all comes before my Pacific Crest Trail hike, in addition to the year I worked in Portland as a graphic designer…so I guess those adventures will be chronicled in other blog posts in the coming days and months. Did I know I would be writing my life story in these cancer updates to you? No, but it’s quite fun and I think I’ll continue as long as you all are enjoying it.

Are you? Should I keep going?

I think I’ll wrap it up for this installment, but not before giving you a big ‘ol gift from the Pacific Crest Trail class of 2006.

Back in the day when there weren’t that many of us ni the trail one hiker would often solicit photos from that year’s batch of hikers and put together a “class video.”. In 2006 that hiker was Pro Deal. Pro Deal (or Ryan Christensen) was a park ranger in Yosemite and a digital video guru who has brought many other excellent film projects to life (like this one called We Are Grand Canyon).

The PCT 2006 film is a doozy! Get yourself a bowl of popcorn, put on your cozy jammies, and immerse yourself in an hour and a half of hiker joy. It’s worth it!

Hike the Hill

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In lieu of another cancer update this morning, I’m going to repost something I just shared over on my Facebook page:

Thanks for the pic Mark Trails! Mark and I had a great stay at Ghost Ranch along the CDT in New Mexico (click for day 32 of my CDT hike here), and I got to take a side trip into Santa Fe to hang out with Extreme Alan (Alan Scott) for a few days too!

Hard to believe this was 10 years ago.


And I’m glad for the memory because there is ALOT of uncertainty and chaos around how our trails and public lands are going to be managed this year.


This week the Continental Divide Trail Coalition is heading to Washington DC with the Partnership for the National Trails System and American Hiking Society to speak to congress on our behalf. These organizations are celebrating their 28th year of Hike the Hill, a joint effort to bring together the trails community to advance shared trail priorities with congressional and federal agency leaders.


They will be advocating for trails funding, public lands management and conservation, equitable access, and other top priority issues that sustain trails and improve access to public lands.


THIS YEAR the trails community faces a sense of urgency unlike any seen in recent years as a new administration and Congress look to reshape the federal government and funding.


It is paramount that the trails community’s voice is heard by attending in-person or if unable to come to DC, to meet locally with district staff to form or strengthen key relationships and demonstrate the importance and value of trails.


Follow along the Hike the Hill progress by checking in with your favorite National Scenic Trail, or by following the American Hiking Society and Partnership for the National Trails System Facebook pages.


You can also reach out directly to your elected leaders by following this template set up by the CDTC.


Please protect what you love, and I know how much you all love trails!


She-ra