tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34502234527414995882024-03-19T13:17:38.489-07:00The 2012 Permaculture Lecture TourThis is an account of the adventures and misadventures we encountered while on a quest to help humankind be a better steward of the planet.Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-43414655467080131322012-09-13T21:41:00.000-07:002012-09-13T22:40:11.010-07:00Houston, the Land Whale has LandedWe woke up this morning and stowed and disconnected and readied for the road and went to breakfast with Paul's friend, Andrew. I liked Andrew. He is one of the few people who can take issue with Paul about some factual or interpretive matter and keep a calm voice while sticking to his guns. I am sure it is some sort of Jedi mind trick and I wanted to learn it from him. But it was on to breakfast.<br />
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Now, those readers who know me know that I start each day usually with a bowl of Geoff's "Sticks and Twigs," the name given by my friend, Michael, to my delicious blend of half a dozen grains, seeds, dried fruit, etc. that I make up in batches on a regular basis. My system likes it and a half a cup of "Sticks and Twigs" in half a cup of almond milk (I know! Almond milk for crying out loud!) sets me up til way past noon. I am not hungry or looking for snacks, and the whole grain goodness of complicated carbohydrates powers me through the morning. Today I had already had Sticks and Twigs before we went to a novel Thai breakfast place. The others ordered eggs, bacon, sausage, etc. But having already eaten, and to be polite, I ordered something from the Thai side of the menu because the description promised a unique ingredient: "Mints pork." If I had had two portions of Sticks and Twigs, I still think I would have had to have the "Mints pork" dish, that turned out to be a vegetable laden soup with meat (pork) and rice. Not a mint anything to be found.<br />
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I mention this because it turns out to be a theme of our trip. It would probably be safe to say I have eaten about twice as much as I usually do. Every time I turned around, it was time to eat again--big breakfasts, lunch as a break from the road, a potluck or dinner with a host. Now, I grew up believing that food shared = celebration but, folks, I am not used to all that sharing. A lot of it was fruits and vegetables, which were probably good for me. And I don't want to seem either ungracious or ungrateful, but I ate too much.<br />
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Especially since I sat for over 4300 miles over the past month. I am certain that stress from some of the driving situations may have worked off some of the additional calories, as did wrestling with the Land Whale every time it inched above 35 miles per hour or headed up (or down) one of the many 9% grades we traversed. But I took my bike--rode it ONCE. I took my hiking boots, poles and pack, but onlywore my hiking socks one cold morning with my Tevas. I went swimming-once in a large bathtub-sized pool in the Phoenix RV park. All the benefits from an early summer of hiking up Missoula's Mount Sentinel vanished into my Land Whale seat. Wait, that may not be the image I am looking for...<br />
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Anyway, 4300 miles later, here I am back where I started on August 15. This morning I told Eivind, "get me to I-15 and I know the way to my house." And on we went, mile after mile of uneventful mile of low-volume Interstate Highway, out of Utah, in and out of Idaho over Monida Pass and into the Big Sky Country. Through the smoke of late season forest fires, I showed Eivind Montana's beauty where it should have been. The Land Whale is parked on the street where I usually park my car, a space having be preserved by my neighbor (Cherie, you are a pal! Thanks for keeping the home fires burning!). My companions are all snug in their beds and I am going to be soon back in my very own.<br />
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I awoke this morning in my own bed for the first time in a month. It was strange. For the past month my bed has been the Land Whale's couch, my linen a zip up fleece sleeping sack and my camping pillow. So many days of waking up in the dark and carefully stowing my bed gear and making the cabin set for travel. Now I woke up with space to dance in, my own bed. I always slept pretty well on the Land Whale, but this was freedom I didn't know I missed.<br />
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This was a day that had lived in Paul's mind for quite a while. We had to pick up Jocelyn's new Prius and show off Missoula to her visitors. Eivind and I took a trip up to the M overlooking Missoula on Mount Sentinel. I wanted to show him a good view of the town I am so proud to be a resident of but the smoke from nearby wildfires filled the valley like a bowl of soup. Still, it was a chance for us to visit and for me to learn more about him and his plans to become a permaculturalist in his native Norway. In many ways, Eivind has set himself as a pioneer in his own land. He has a burning passion for an idea that has grasped his basic sense of who he is and how he is to be in the world like many young men do. Will he be one of the ones so fully grasped that they wring success out of whatever opportunity comes their way? Or will he be one of those who gets a lesson that pushes him toward bitterness? These things, these moments come to all of us, of course. But in the matter of rolling the dice, we all stand where we stand, and we get what we get. Like most of us, Eivind is going to be tested, and his story is one that is worth following. He is such a strong devotee of what Paul reaches, it will be interesting to see how his life pours out.<br />
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We ate lunch at one of Paul's favorite Missoula eateries--SaWaDee, a Thai place Downtown. It was a good experience for Paul and me, Jocelyn and Eivind voted "meh." We then took Eivind to see Missoula's Carousel. This was a project I helped guide into fruition and it is awesome. In trying to explain Missoula to Eivind earlier, I told him that there were not one but TWO Norwegian fjord horses on the Carousel. We also explained the practice of catching the brass ring and with that, he was ready to take his place in line and race to get on Slipnir, the outer Fjord horse. As he rode around and around, he captured many of the rings, but the brass ring went to a little girl who rode a couple of horses ahead of him. He grinned like an eight year-old boy during his ride and that's when I knew it was the place for him today.<br />
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After that, comedy ensued as I tried to unhitch the bike rack I borrowed for the trip. Paul's brother, Tim, helped me put it on the Land Whale a month ago. He REALLY wrenched the bolt that held the rack into the hitch. I couldn't tell what the size of the bolt was so I made three or four impressions on piece of paper. While the others headed off to do other things, I headed to ACE Hardware to get a box wrench to do the job. When I got there, I picked the size that seemed right, but when I got back to the Land Whale, it was too small, so I headed back to ACE to get a bigger wrench. After filling out the customer return form and paying fifty cents more, I left with a larger wrench. A larger wrench, but a wrench not quite large enough. One more trip to ACE and a bigger wrench. Another customer return form and I headed back with the right wrench. Even though the wrench fit, it required about 40 whacks with a hammer to budge the bolt and get the rack off.<br />
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Then, before I knew it, it was time to head to another local restauant favorite of Paul's: Biga Pizza.<br />
This restaurant is the real deal--wood fire pizza made with local products where possible with great care about local food. Our last meal together as four travelers was light and full of good cheer.<br />
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I am sure that the full meaning,impact and importance of this trip will not be clear to me for some while. The people I met that I wish were still in my life a little longer are already moving on with their lives, unlike some traveler who came to them and left. They opened their lives and, in some cases, homes to us. They let me in, a little, and shared something defining about who they are. We were there on the wind, shared words and food, and parted. We four, who completed a journey so audacious, so full of promise of failure, that I can't imagine anyone else undertaking anything like it. That we did it and carried away a sense of those we visited, that we did it without resorting to murder and mayhem, that our heated words in frustration passed in brief time--this is what stays with me now. In time I know this will be an adventure I will be glad to claim as one that changed me.<br />
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As I removed my gear from the Land Whale and gave Eivind my final pointers on how best to steer and operate the Land Whale as her new pilot, I was grateful that the others who joined me on this adventure were calm enough, forgiving enough, excited enough to bear with the others' shortcomings, foibles, quirks, idiosyncrasies and Land Whale riding qualities that we were able to part as friends and fellow travelers. I hope you have enjoyed hearing how we completed this improbable journey and that it has been worth it to you to come along.<br />
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.Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-2153727847698089222012-09-11T17:19:00.001-07:002012-09-11T19:44:12.662-07:00The Nature of TruthWe awoke in a remote KOA in Southern Utah. [You knew that KOA was founded in Montana, right?] Although they are independently owned, it is one of my favorite franchises for the dependability of finding a basic, clean place. Some have lots of extras but getting to land the Land Whale at a KOA is comfort just knowing what is at hand.<br />
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Among the many Land Whale quirks have been the few times it has not started when asked. I suspect some deep electrical problem like a loose wire or a short. Paul is convinced it is the solenoid getting set to conk out on us. He used to drive a truck when he was younger, and I drove a truck when I was younger. I took "Auto and Small Engine" as a shop class in high school but have forgotten most everything Mr. Stubbs tried to teach me other than the theoretical bits which I have a passable recollection of. Once, when the Land Whale wouldn't start, Paul took to whacking engine parts with an axe. We have lots of tools on board, but no hammer and Paul's experiences with solenoid problems were solved by hammer whacks. We are not even sure we have located the solenoid but subsequent to Paul's whacking, the Land Whale started. He claims credit AND vindication for his bad solenoid theory. I am skeptical still. Which is why when we woke up at the KOA it was to a blissful, brisk near-frost, I announced to my companions that I had fixed the air conditioner. Using an axe. Hilarity ensued.<br />
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Our destination for the day was True Nature Farms in Southern Utah. Again, I piloted the Land Whale over washboard farm roads of uncommon steepness, at least for Land Whales. When we got to the Farm we found we had time for a tour with Eden, one of the head workers and someone I became convinced was totally on board with the whole permaculture idea. He showed example after example of things he had tried with different outcomes, but each was a successful outcome because he had learned something new about the farm and how to bring forth its bounty. Eden fit the profile I have come to recognize in the farmers we meet: patient, thoughtful, observant, thinking a couple moves ahead. His browned face and eyes focused mid-distance in thought showed he was the real deal. No poser, he.<br />
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Soon it was time for Paul's presentation. Folks started drifting in from near and far enthused to hear Paul's thoughts on permaculture and specifically on the subject of "making the big bucks in permaculture." Very few people make a decent living at farming unless they are big corporate outfits capable of bringing in the big subsidies or plugging into the immeasurable amount of corporatism. Most farmers take on huge debt and often get jobbed by markets. Everybody is in line to eat food, and a great many people are becoming wise to selecting good food for themselves and their families. How, then, to make the connection between farmers willing to raise good food, and consumers willing to pay for it? Several communities feature CSA's or 'community supported agriculture.' That is a form of subscription shopping that fronts money to the farmer who then provides food on a weekly or other basis throughout the season. That helps in making the connection and evens out the market, but Paul lecture was all about helping farmers--permaculture farmers--grow products that command high profits.<br />
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One example he used is of the hams that come from free-ranging black hogs in Spain that sometimes fetch $4,000 apiece. These hogs run free through oak forests on their farmer's land and consume the acorns and other forage they find. The hogs are known for their unique taste and if there is a caviar of 'jambon,' this is it. Paul noticed that the presentation was being distracted frequently by the sound of falling acorns landing on the audience. He asked, "how come no hogs here?"<br />
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Not every farmer is going to make it selling luxury hams at $4,000 apiece. The market of those consumers able to pay those prices--and granted, the ham is sold by the VERY thin slice which does make it affordable, but it still means selling a LOT of thin slices to add up to $4,000 a ham--has a predictable saturation point. The basic laws of economy mean that there will arise product substitutions, producers finding efficiencies in production that drive prices down, etc. I don't think anyone in the audience thought otherwise. There was some discussion about the strategy of marketing to upscale consumers and whether there was something about that that wasn't right. After all, I think most farmers would be thrilled to sell their farm products to cover their costs and enjoy a profit that gives them an even chance at becoming debt-free and enjoy a decent standard of living for their families.<br />
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Paul held forth for nearly three hours before we finally broke for the potluck. It was fun to see the people tuck into the wonderful spread that appeared with those in attendance. The True Nature Farm folks also augmented the fare with their own contributions and no one went away hungry. Afterwords it was time for talk around the campfire with those who did not have far to go to get home.<br />
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Like many of the permaculture outfits we have visited, True Nature Farm relies heavily on the work of interns who trade their labor for knowledge and experience. True Nature was running with half a dozen or so of young men and women who heard some calling about bringing forth good food from the earth. Many had done extensive research and reading about farming and, in particular, permaculture. They basically live in their own tents and share a communal kitchen and meeting space where they socialize and organize their work schedules. True Nature is populated by foreign born workers and I counted Israelis and, I believe, French among the accents I heard.<br />
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At the end of their season on the farm, these young workers will get the chance to go through a PDC or Permaculture Design Course, which is kind of the basic Jedi training for permaculture practitioners. Successful completion of the PDC gives the first recognized level of accomplishment and getting it is a near-term goal these Interns are working toward.<br />
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I had a rather long conversation with a young woman--hi, Angela!--who had left an established career in the hotel industry when she woke up to find her soul was being sucked out by her work. After selling off the accoutrements of her past life, she wandered around and found her way to True Nature Farms where she was finishing her internship. The next phase of her life after True Nature isn't quite clear to her now, but she impressed me with the development of her deeper principles and of her commitment to developing a Self that will contribute great things to the planet. Whenever I encounter a person like Angela, it makes me wish I had had the kind of questing and yearning she has when I was her age. I don't kid myself that her path is easy or that she is due for some profound enlightenment. My experience is that it doesn't work that way. Still, I wish there were something I could offer her that was more than best wishes on her journey. I asked her to keep me up to date on her life because like a great story, I am deeply interested to know how it turns out!<br />
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This morning we woke to a pleasant rain--the first rain to speak of on this trip. After a quick good-by we cast off and ran the Land Whale up through the Dixie National Forest. We climbed to 9600 feet and saw some awe-inspriring scenery. We sailed on up I-15 to visit Paul's friend, Andrew. We are back in the land of multiple lanes of traffic, but like the horse who knows it's headed to the barn, I can tell that I-15 connects me to Montana. I am eager to get home. Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-26902335206139454612012-09-10T10:33:00.000-07:002012-09-15T00:11:51.830-07:00Slow Turning<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The notion to cross from southern California to Phoenix
turned out to be brilliant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
afternoon before we left, I relaxed and caught a few catnaps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Late in the day, I started on-loading iced
coffee and fruit juices and my gum caddy was loaded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time I hit Interstate 10 eastbound, I
had already hit my stride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew I was
going to miss some pretty scenery in the night but having the vast scope of the
road clear as far as I could see and every other motorist identified for miles
by red brake lights or headlights no more vexing than major stars was worth it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time the eastern sky began to glow with coming day,
we were already on the hunt for a landing zone for the Land Whale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first one we tried, Apache Road RV,
proved a winner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got there before
opening but as we pulled in to circle the grounds to gauge our chances, Harry,
the owner, stepped up (he was doing his pre-opening chores to his spit and
polish RV court) and when we told him we needed to land for a night,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he pointed us to an open spot conveniently
located near bathrooms and the laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Come sign in when we open” was all he said, directing us to the
hook-ups. My kind of guy—friendly, problem-solving and trusting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have met more than one Harry on this trip.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Paul and Jocelyn and Eivind took off to look at some permaculture
sites that had been pre-arranged by a local contact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believed after my all night driving
adventure that I would sack out to recover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As it was, I felt alert, energized and ready for something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the left, I volunteered to do
laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, as a single man, I have
done my own laundry for decades—it’s no big deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I usually take something along to amuse me
when I do it, though, sort of doing my part for the multi-tasking movement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In this case, I brought my Kindle that was carefully packed
with all my other electronic gear, cords, dangles and doo-wops in my computer
case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know why I brought it
along—it wasn’t like I wasn’t going to be amused by a million other things, but
there it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I am pretty sure the
Kindle is the tool of the Devil, like sex, but something about doing laundry
made me dig it out of its storage space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I should say that I hate reading on the thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a diehard, dead tree kind of
reader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the feel, look and every
other sensation of real books.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as
part of a lifelong commitment to broadening myself, I downloaded an audio
version of James Joyce’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><u>Ulysses</u>
.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have always been a little
embarrassed that I knew nothing of this amazing book until I was in my early
50’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had tried before but it was so
dense and beautiful, I couldn’t begin to get anywhere with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I have gotten so far as to understand
the story and what goes on that I am starting to tease the meat from the
bones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The audio version of the book was
meant to give me a sense of the brilliance of Joyce’s poetic<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>gifts. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the laundry, I
chose to listen to the chapter called “The Cyclops” which, I confess, cracks me
up like nothing else. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joyce puts me in
that bar with those Dublin denizens and I am with them the whole way. Each
character has something to say that is worthy of comment and guffaw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A rinse and spin cycle <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>later I found myself sorting dry from
hang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thanks, James Joyce, for making me
laugh out loud at your words.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I got back to the Land Whale, things were unusually
quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not because my companions were
gone, it was just quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know they
left the air conditioning on (Paul spent a miserable previous night transiting
from California to Phoenix until he was able to get the air conditioning on and
running full steam [?].<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I fiddled with
the switches, I unplugged and replugged, I got out the manuals (which are among
the WORST documentation for a product I have ever encountered) and checked what
I could of the electrical system and could find no reason why blessed cool air
was not bathing the inside of the Land Whale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I texted Paul with the news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Shortly I got a text advising I do something I had already done. Time to
let that one go…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From an earlier post about our stay with Art Ludwig, you may
recall our discovering that John Hiatt was playing very near where we had the
Land Whale serviced a couple of days before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was THIS CLOSE to seeing John Hiatt in concert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think John Hiatt is probably my favorite
singer/songwriter after Bob Dylan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once
when I spun out real bad on a patch of reality on the Highway of Romance, John
Hiatt’s music brought me back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ended
up buying every album he recorded and got myself a guitar so I could learn to
play and sing his music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That only
proved I sucked as a musician and singer so I gave it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I didn’t give up my love for his music.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, when we crossed paths with John’s tour in California, I
happened to meet his tour manager and told him of my love of John’s music and
my disappointment at not seeing him in California.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, I assured him, I was going to catch up
with the tour in Phoenix and I would be there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Once the laundry was done, I performed my bodily ablutions and headed
for the light-rail to go Downtown. [Did I mention that we parked the land whale
at the<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u> only</u></b> RV park serviced
by the Phoenix area light rail system?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wish I could say that was by design, but I have to hand that one off to
LUCK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I know what you are saying:
“Luck is not a strategy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While that may
be true, I still think of myself as one of the luckiest people I know, so there
you go.].</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I got on, I saw a jillion Arizona State University
faithful getting set to head to Sun Devil stadium to watch their mighty elevens
(twenty-two’s?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>whatever is the NCAA
limit for team members?) go head to head with some school from Illinois and
crush them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was a good sign, I
thought;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The more people at a home game,
the fewer people trying to see John Hiatt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I got to the venue, I walked up to a very pleasant young woman and
asked to buy a ticket to the concert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She looked at me like I was a flat earther and said, “the concert is
sold out.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was about to plead my case
of being all the way from Montana, having chased the Hiatt tour for weeks, etc.
but I realized none of that would work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I went and bought a salty dog and pondered my predicament.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I KNEW I was going to see this concert, but I didn’t know
how.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only scalper the bouncer
identified had split minutes before, having off-loaded two tickets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told him my sad story and asked him to look
out for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, ten minutes before show time, the very
pleasant young woman crooked her long, painted nailed finger at me and I walked
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said, “Do you have exact change
for the price of a ticket?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said, “
Hell, yes!” or something to that effect and the next thing I knew, I was in the
venue at the edge of the stage next to the pit containing John Hiatt’s guitar
tuner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bingo!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, let me say something about the John Hiatt
audience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are a sad, fricking
lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are an old, grey, balding,
paunchy, saggy, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>hair-colored, awkwardly
dressed bunch of people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked around
the crowd to see if there were any people I considered attractive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then it dawned on me that I was with my tribe and the realization that
we were all one left me just a little unnerved. No one would be scoping ME out,
either.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then the opening act started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Salvador,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>a kind of Gipsy King knock-off took the stage with his percussionist and
started wailing out these amazing Spanish love songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bravo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I dug him and his doing flamenco foot taps on the wooden box he stood on
while he played.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before long, he was
done and John Hiatt and his band took the stage.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3QkyulGdA5sxZpUdI7ShPu0PUO11oFB4_XzJ9yFNjGd7koNqR4z-rmmtsaAtrHAa4YrCyAiyspoGiIrPF-uLGaw0_ey1w7fEt8fq7feMdIH6l5JMxYsR-6wkLq-MzxcRdrubVY9zBMh8/s1600/0702_john_hiatt_d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3QkyulGdA5sxZpUdI7ShPu0PUO11oFB4_XzJ9yFNjGd7koNqR4z-rmmtsaAtrHAa4YrCyAiyspoGiIrPF-uLGaw0_ey1w7fEt8fq7feMdIH6l5JMxYsR-6wkLq-MzxcRdrubVY9zBMh8/s320/0702_john_hiatt_d.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Hiatt [picture souce: stolen from somewhere]</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, John Hiatt has crossed the muddy water of age 60.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some performers become caricatures of
themselves and re-tread the same old stuff all the time when they get there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is sad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have seen Hiatt perform a few time and I was worried that he would
leave the good stuff in the dressing room. How delightfully wrong I was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He played true and strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He sampled stuff from his entire catalog and
he and his band nailed it like a roofing crew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My face hurt from grinning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now,
he failed to play two songs I would have loved to hear:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Lipstick Sunset” and “Icy Blue Heart.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He touched on all the Love-gone-wrong themes
in other songs, but these two are ones I really like. Everything else in the
show—including the fact that I was there watching it!—was so positive, it was
hard to apply any marks off for not playing two songs I wanted to hear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In short, the voice is still there, the
musicianship is still there; having fun playing music for people is still
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go see John Hiatt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The concert is worth it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the concert, I decided to buy John’s latest CD. And
who should I see selling the merch?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
tour manager I met in Agoura.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said,
smiling, “Hey, you made it!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said, “I
wouldn’t have missed this for anything—I was meant to be here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tell John “hi” from Geoff from Montana.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The ride back on the Phoenix light rail [did I mention how
cool I think light rail is?] was with other Hiatt fans and we processed the
concert like fans do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One by one, they
got off at their stops until I was on the train all alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started awake as I heard the tinny lady
from the train say, “Apache and McClintock—next stop.” And I was home at the
Land Whale.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day was a long day headed to Utah following a portion of legendary Route 66.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1S0o6kr8U5aQMdii2b6QO0OXQNo6nrCKprrMWvIxm_ahyphenhyphentBrRcM1KUJKZFt92Tk184F76jvtcgoliLC5N4O4fGE4Ei9yN9bCWaBUz-W4uHXyzjLzgQ-w6TE-KtLBWVdgz2pnX1bLVy9E/s1600/Route+66+9-9-2012+1-40-17+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1S0o6kr8U5aQMdii2b6QO0OXQNo6nrCKprrMWvIxm_ahyphenhyphentBrRcM1KUJKZFt92Tk184F76jvtcgoliLC5N4O4fGE4Ei9yN9bCWaBUz-W4uHXyzjLzgQ-w6TE-KtLBWVdgz2pnX1bLVy9E/s400/Route+66+9-9-2012+1-40-17+PM.JPG" width="246" /></a></div>
We stopped at the Grand Canyon a couple of places for maybe an hour and headed north and took in Bryce Canyon for an equally short period of time. <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii4p3BOcRPRHc-fpissoXuB1QUtB5fIAnZEVrY4E7cwj0PFR8CqEroshOMti-0l387eupxWvpmle1G-W0YtM3oaLBvJiZeHf09yNJhaOo4MR4KgDrNjsxCcIg8NG1v1qJPJkMSolYEfCI/s1600/Grand+Canyon+9-9-2012+3-24-57+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii4p3BOcRPRHc-fpissoXuB1QUtB5fIAnZEVrY4E7cwj0PFR8CqEroshOMti-0l387eupxWvpmle1G-W0YtM3oaLBvJiZeHf09yNJhaOo4MR4KgDrNjsxCcIg8NG1v1qJPJkMSolYEfCI/s640/Grand+Canyon+9-9-2012+3-24-57+PM.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Grand Canyon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bryce Canyon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Yes, my hiking gear was screaming at me from its storage space, insisting that we take a trip down the trail. But, no, my sedentary existence at the helm of the Land Whale was demanded. We proceeded on, arriving at our landing at around 10:00 p.m. The long days of driving windy roads at night are back. I never thought I'd say it, but for pure driving pleasure, that trip at night from Southern California was a joy in comparison. At night on a windy road there is nothing to see except the next "Slow--Corner" sign and the headlights of the people who want to pass me. </div>
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[Sorry this is such a permaculture-free post but like the Land Whale, I am the captain of this blog and you will get what I write. Fair enough?]</div>
Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-35712920561877413082012-09-08T09:54:00.002-07:002012-09-08T12:57:23.991-07:00Name This Ranch!After leaving Coast RV with our motorcoach in order, we headed to Fallbrook (sort of between LA and San Diego). To get there, I had to drive on or by all the legendary LA freeways and streets I had heard about in movies, TV shows and rock 'n'roll music. Mulholland Drive, Ventura Freeway, Highway 101, and others. Of course, about all I got to see of them was their names because, believe me, my eyes were on the road and keeping track of five lanes of traffic, drivers all intent on getting where they were going, avoiding landing a whale on them, etc. When I REALLY push it, I can get 63 mph out of the Terra Cetacean (you didn't think I would ever resort to that, did you?) but it is a rocking and reeling ride, not for the faint of heart. The highways also made me think of my friend, Bill. Born and raised in SoCal, he has regaled me with stories of surfing and fishing and all things water-related in his youth as a citizen of the Golden State. I am glad he is now a Missoulian--it is easier to be his friend when he lives in the same town that I do.<br />
<br />
Paul Varese and his wife Molly provided the Land Whale's most recent dock space. Paul was waiting for us at a freeway interchange to lead us to his home and nascent permaculture farm. Talk about service. After guiding us into our resting space, he invited our crew down to a fire pit for a glass of wine and conversation even though it was already past 10:00 p.m. Already I liked this guy! Our Paul had plans to visit some farms and other sites the next day before making a presentation in the small city of Oceanside. My plan was to snooze as much as possible because we had decided the best way to cross from San Diego to Phoenix was during the night time so I scheduled a day of relaxing and snoozing in preparation.<br />
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Just when I think I have met most of the nice people in the
world, along come Molly and Paul. They and their son, Julian, have
been on their spread for a little over a year and are in the process of
converting it from avocado orchards to something a little more
permacultural-ly.<br />
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As I lay dozing on my bunk in the Land Whale, Molly came down and
introduced herself and invited me up to the house for lunch with her and
her Mom. Molly is one of those
creative people who has a fine eye for design and collecting interesting
objects. What's more, she is keeping goats on their place and
developing a line of herb-based soaps. (Later when it came time to put the goats back in their pen, she called out, "Time for a cookie!" and those goats came running, their soft hooves clicking on the driveway like little leather hammers. Goat whisperer? More like "Goat Hollerer"!) She and her Mom were the warmest
lunch companions I could imagine and before I knew it, a lot of my
snooze time had happily disappeared.<br />
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Before we all left for Big Paul's
presentation in Oceanside, our host, Paul, gave Eivind and me a tour of
his property and the projects he had planned or had gotten underway.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPEOky6eX6TPp6lZax2JBHVI_y03ifZHjrNW50xZD6b05vt1CFNFMWD9LoHBYXjOBW_CAYRsTs5yjN38hspyhGZeA5LeWRQ4BfDDEHzVxgZab08fj0qkJtmUjg_C2bCdpRGEBC006fDyM/s1600/Paul's+Terraces+9-7-2012+6-28-39+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPEOky6eX6TPp6lZax2JBHVI_y03ifZHjrNW50xZD6b05vt1CFNFMWD9LoHBYXjOBW_CAYRsTs5yjN38hspyhGZeA5LeWRQ4BfDDEHzVxgZab08fj0qkJtmUjg_C2bCdpRGEBC006fDyM/s400/Paul's+Terraces+9-7-2012+6-28-39+PM.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul shows Eivind his terracing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When I asked Paul the name of their place--I knew it
had to have a name--he just laughed and said that was something they
were working on. The first name, "Rancho Juliano" in honor of their
son, just didn't seem to make the statement they wanted. Next came
"Goat Hill Ranch" in honor of the goats they keep. That one doesn't
have the traction of a winner yet, so keep at it; they will find the
right name, or it will find them.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dLfCtjeT6RZGW7MHSLzzL9Trz83Li1cpEfgfTK2UV4fbPF1cz1nN8Vvt0iBzenPZh4189y3XVAOwLGXOQg3XySqCSCYsABxncYEzApO5lIlgABYp9T0v9oFYj90QZLt63S-BOtXsvB8/s1600/Goat+Hill+Ranch+9-7-2012+6-44-20+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dLfCtjeT6RZGW7MHSLzzL9Trz83Li1cpEfgfTK2UV4fbPF1cz1nN8Vvt0iBzenPZh4189y3XVAOwLGXOQg3XySqCSCYsABxncYEzApO5lIlgABYp9T0v9oFYj90QZLt63S-BOtXsvB8/s400/Goat+Hill+Ranch+9-7-2012+6-44-20+PM.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goat Hill Ranch or Rancho Juliano or...?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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One of the features of the place Paul showed us was this cement reservoir that had been installed long ago but which was no longer serviceable due to cracking and settling. Paul recognizes that this is a perfectly good hole in the ground at the upper edge of his property and is mulling options including a small residence that will allow them to enjoy outstanding views and a place to get away from everything--except perhaps the goats who have already claimed the reservoir as their play ground. Paul told us that the goats sometimes get in the cement pool and just run and run around it like those caged motorcycle daredevils. Apparently that counts as fun for goats--no one has made a reality TV show of that, but there is still time.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUs898nLliK0SkWw9txyXUtKW4G4vdtqlhzRX9HXhGhFLmRrbWCYeMKOVYXx1RLG4bvvttbJOewlTpeBLdsYEbNDCcNom58TmbnSMV1Osf4Nif7Zp38NLS4Bvsxix4NMrnNXbrPKXaBTk/s1600/Perfectly+good+hole+9-7-2012+6-42-19+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUs898nLliK0SkWw9txyXUtKW4G4vdtqlhzRX9HXhGhFLmRrbWCYeMKOVYXx1RLG4bvvttbJOewlTpeBLdsYEbNDCcNom58TmbnSMV1Osf4Nif7Zp38NLS4Bvsxix4NMrnNXbrPKXaBTk/s400/Perfectly+good+hole+9-7-2012+6-42-19+PM.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cement Reservoir/ Goat Playground</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Paul
and Molly have a lot to work with, but a long way to go. I'd love to come back in a few years to see how their work has paid off for them.<br />
<br />
Big Paul's talk was scheduled for the Oceanside Library. Oceanside is a nice little town in which I felt immediately comfortable. The Library, a modern building which is part of a larger municipal complex had clean lines, lovely public spaces and is something I hope the residents of Oceanside are proud of. When we got there, we found that there were a host of signs to Paul's lecture room which made way-finding in a strange building easy (much of the organizing work for this talk was done by Diego Footer, one of Paul's many fans. thanks, Diego!). It's always hard to guess how many people will turn out on a Friday night to hear a talk on permaculture as an alternative to irrigation. In this part of California, it turns out a lot turn out.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6M8oJBljBPwpuDYkU7ccDEQl7ofPBaraKj3Tu9DW0VoRRimoCDbrrBM6DILgQtqC-OZM_B7Za8VM5TbFXKBacpzfNqj6TVM1JGsorsRxlMvjU3_0jgppPA68eMfqztE8_fMd7YnNBIw/s1600/Oceanside+Audience+9-7-2012+8-16-57+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6M8oJBljBPwpuDYkU7ccDEQl7ofPBaraKj3Tu9DW0VoRRimoCDbrrBM6DILgQtqC-OZM_B7Za8VM5TbFXKBacpzfNqj6TVM1JGsorsRxlMvjU3_0jgppPA68eMfqztE8_fMd7YnNBIw/s640/Oceanside+Audience+9-7-2012+8-16-57+PM.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanside, California </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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And, in the audience were Eivind and Paul and Molly. What a great bunch! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLL2_1meIHKa1BPSOb58-_QTgUfQ8XczUGj5T01M5shTxiobt34CSESyjOkvCenQKxBHxo6edgVeY3pHEgDIsgqC-8Ipt_sA22qpYs8nERtx7hn5IblgDYP_yrUCpyV_-HVEiBvYlJp64/s1600/Eivind,+Paul+and+Molly+at+Paul%27s+Wheaton%27s+talk+9-7-2012+8-17-40+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLL2_1meIHKa1BPSOb58-_QTgUfQ8XczUGj5T01M5shTxiobt34CSESyjOkvCenQKxBHxo6edgVeY3pHEgDIsgqC-8Ipt_sA22qpYs8nERtx7hn5IblgDYP_yrUCpyV_-HVEiBvYlJp64/s640/Eivind,+Paul+and+Molly+at+Paul%27s+Wheaton%27s+talk+9-7-2012+8-17-40+PM.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eivind along with Paul and Molly</td></tr>
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After the lecture was over, it was back to Paul and Molly's to board the Land Whale and make our crossing to Phoenix. Paul and Jocelyn were understandably exhausted from a day of touring and speaking and headed for some rack time. I kept Eivind awake just long enough to get me on the right highway and off we sped into the night. Fortified by iced coffee, chocolate and cold pizza,I got us to our current docking station by around 7:00 a.m. The relative peace and quite of fairly traffic-free highway provided me with some of the most enjoyable Land Whale riding I have experienced so far. To keep myself amused, I thought of all my grade school and high school teachers and tried to remember classmates from those years. I imagine all the things they have accomplished and achieved, and I wonder if they have ever taken a trip like this.Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-65671663413945801302012-09-06T12:39:00.000-07:002012-09-07T00:35:05.944-07:00Water, Water Everywhere<br />
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Our next stop was in Santa Barbara to visit Art
Ludwig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Art has done a lot of work in
the area of water management; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>diversion
and storage, certainly, but treatment, as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Abundance of fresh water for consumption and agriculture is not
something that can be taken for granted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even with the presence of water, say, in a convenient aquifer like the
people of Missoula, Montana, enjoy is only part of the equation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It takes energy, labor and a huge
infrastructure to pump and distribute that water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turns out the water itself is fairly
inexpensive—it’s there for the taking for whoever has the water right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nature sees to that in its own naturally
efficient way, but our demand for vast quantities of Nature’s clean water requires
an expensive delivery system.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cool stuff that is water.</td></tr>
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<br /></div>
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And that’s not the end of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After we use the water for drinking,
cleaning, etc. we have the problem of dealing with the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">waste </i>water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has to be
moved away from the user, centralized and treated and then finally directed to
a body of water for further dilution or to carry it away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The waste water treatment systems used by our
society have had to become more and more sophisticated as our lives have become
more complicated by the use of chemicals in our households and factories, the
use of ever more sophisticated pharmaceuticals that don’t easily or completely
breakdown in our bodies, use of agricultural pesticides and fertilizers,
etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What was once simply “fresh water” and “waste water” have
become fractured<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>into different
categories that describe their relative freshness and waste quality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We now have waste water that is grey water
and some that is brown water and black water each of which requires different
considerations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Art thinks about this problem and how water can be better
managed and handled at the household level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For example, he did some of the earliest work in thinking about how
water from our showers and dish washing can be diverted as “grey water” and used
to water plants and lawns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has done work
on what to do with poop and pee that doesn’t involve huge centralized
systems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The key is making the waste-water handling and treatment easy, safe and effective enough to work on a
household level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are not there yet,
but Art is scouting the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Understandably,
his work overlaps with permaculture’s values of reducing waste output and
turning wastes into resources.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Art lives in a compound of houses and cabins that were once<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>rural family escapes from the LA metro
area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many still bear the features of
log construction, metal roofs and the narrow tiny driveways that are the bain
of Land Whales of the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Art had a
spot for us to park that bent back a fig tree or two but left room for the Land
Whale’s door to swing open with a good ¼ inch to spare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weather has been mild while we were
here—had it been hot, I think expansion would have used up that ¼ inch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it was, on backing out this morning, the
fig tree struck back and snapped the Land Whale’s antenna.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The radio doesn’t work anyway so Paul didn’t
hesitate to whip out his Leatherman tool and snip it off completely.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Today is another “make and mend” day so we drove down the
legendary Highway 101 to Coast RV to get the Land Whale serviced before we head
to San Diego and then east to Phoenix.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Larry
Thompson, the owner, allowed me to talk my way in to a service date even though
his calendar for the day was already full.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Guy from Montana, 21 year old Land Whale, crossing the desert in my
future—it’s the sort of tale that draws out the milk of human kindness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since we haven’t been showering quite as
regularly as any of us might like, we took the opportunity to do laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am staying with the rig while the others wash
dry and fold our duds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later, they are
going to visit some farms while I try to do some catching up on things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Larry is short-handed today, but I think he
will do his best by us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He seemed like
an upstanding guy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Later we are going someplace further on our
journey—Oceanside, I think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That will
also be a light duty day, since we are going to take the Land Whale and head
east to Phoenix.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The plan is to drive it
at night and avoid the heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While
driving, I don’t get to see much anyway and Paul and Jocelyn have their heads
buried in their laptops so the beauty of the desert won’t be missed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, Eivind might miss it but he has had such
a great time collecting the books written by Art and the other innovators he
has met on this trip, he may just bookworm his way to Phoenix.</div>
Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-42361769074649035962012-09-05T15:27:00.003-07:002012-09-05T15:45:44.485-07:00Mountain High, Valley LowWe left our hearts in San Francisco according to custom and headed south and east toward Mariposa, California, a place that was subject to 49ers hoping to pry their fortunes out of the gold-riddled hills. Driving up those crazy mountain roads has had me thinking, "what kind of medications do the road engineers of California take???" These twisting, climbing, dropping by-ways are a challenge in the Land Whale. I have too much length, not enough power, too high a profile, too much mass, too little braking reliability, too many cars blasting up my backside, too little visibility, etc. for these roads. It made me think, whatever drugs these guys are on, they are taking too much or too little of them. It finally occurred to me that these roadways are so old, they were probably well-established in the days of wagons and horses that couldn't go too fast and for whom the tracks probably made a lot of sense. When automobiles came on the scene, it probably just made sense to pave what was there because the roads went to and from places people wanted to go. Hence, a white knuckle ride!<br />
<br />
The roads and the country reminded me of Wallace Stegner's novel, <u>The Angle of Repose.</u> I read that novel so long ago, little detail of it remains of it in my mind. I recall it depicting a scene of a harrowing trip over the mountains to a mining town in a horse-drawn wagon, and how the trip left the horses horribly wasted. I also imagined those people whose drive and spirit impelled them away from civilization to go live lives on the frontiers of the West where life was hard. They had to have been a bunch of rough cobs to take that on and survive--many didn't. Still, their children and grandchildren really made it work, though. That next generation following the original stakeholders inherit the spirit and a piece of the place made more civilized by their parents' huge efforts and sacrifices. Most of us do.<br />
<br />
One needn't wonder if any of that original pioneering spirit still survives. It does, but its hand-built home and back-to the-land energy in many cases is connected to the world with smartphones and libertarian politics. It stands to reason that living a lifestyle the government doesn't want you to live and which most of society doesn't understand yields an attitude of independence, suspicion and leave-me-the-hell-alone-ness. Now these frontier-types can maintain their preferred isolation and still stay connected to whomever they choose via the internet. That community connects them with like-minded people and people willing to share information and experiences on how to do things. We were going to that world.<br />
<br />
We visited Glenn and Kathy's place, arriving late at night and parking right next to the rusted hulk of a well-drilling rig. Poking around trying to learn about the lay of the land, my flashlight found printed signs that warned "Federal officers of the IRS, HEW, HUD, Environmental, Health and other unconstitutional agencies" [HEW, by the way, was reorganized under the Carter Administration and has not been around since then.] about the problems they would face if they entered his property without permission. These signs are a way to keep at bay inspectors and agents who might have an interest in what Glenn is doing. It makes sense to get inspectors to agree not to fight before actually engaging them by making them shy with dubious legal mumble jumbo, if it works.<br />
<br />
Glenn and Kathy do not want a house that passes inspection, they want the house they are building. Glenn, a professional metal-worker, fell in love with Mike Oehler's ideas about building his own house. Stuff, and by this I mean building materials and building knowledge, come to Glenn all the time. These materials, logs mostly, and wood Glenn has cut on his own sawmill, have been put together without benefit of professional structural engineering using techniques Glenn learned from Mike and though his own research and experience. Railings on the steps in the house, for example, are made from found pieces of wood. When he is out, Glenn keeps his eyes peeled for just the right branch to make a turn around the spiral stairways he uses in his house to save space and materials, and because they look cool. As a result, their home is graced with a combination of nature and art that is both zen-like and clever at the same time.<br />
<br />
For all its unique construction and interesting beauty, this house will most likely never grace the pictures of <i>Architectural Digest </i>or <i>House Beautiful.</i> The edges and joints in the wood, in many instances cut with a chainsaw, are un-apologetically rough. There were places where I saw gaps filled with burlap rice bags and, in a couple of places, plain daylight through the joints. Corners and edges are surprises. The floors are made, in some rooms, with cob ( a mixture of clay, sand and sometimes straw) or even dirt with linseed oil on them. Others are beautiful poured, hand-tinted concrete, and re-purposed boat docks.<br />
<br />
Glenn estimates that his whole house--some 2200 square feet in size and a quirky warren of rooms--cost him around $5,000, not counting his labor. He and Kathy have stuffed it with an amazing collection of antiques and books, so don't conclude they are living in some sort of squalor or inhabit a hovel even though much of their home is below ground. The trick of this kind of construction is to allow natural light to infuse into every room so that the beams and earthen floors do not become too oppressive. And did I mention they were off the grid? <br />
<br />
As a pedigreed bureaucrat myself, I probably come down on the side of the inspectors and the role they play in our communities. Behind most codes is some incident where a resident of a home or other building died due to some correctable construction practice. (Interestingly, Glenn mentioned an account of another one of these do-it-yourself home-builders who had made his own concrete home without benefit of inspectors only to die, crushed in it a week after moving in due to subsidence caused by running water beneath the structure that compromised its structural integrity.). Do people have the right to build a home without following building codes? I suppose if they are the only ones to go in it. But what if concrete house guy had a wife, or kids? What if he had visitors spending the night? Do you have the right to know that although Glenn built everything hell for stout, his home fails to meet all seismic, fire, and structural codes? Do you trust that he knows enough about building these structures that your visit is safe? I found their home as fascinating as they were and whatever risk I took was worth it to see what they have done for themselves. They were gracious and warm hosts.<br />
<br />
After saying good-bye to Glenna nd Kathy, we steered the Land Whale to Yosemite Park so Paul could scratch viewing a grove of purportedly tall trees from his "bucket list." When we finally got to the Park [see California's crazy road discussion, above] we were told by the Park staff that no civilian Land Whales were allowed to visit the Tall Trees, forcing us to drive down 4 miles of crazy road in order to take one of the Park's even larger Land Whales back up to see them. I forwent that opportunity, having seen several large trees in my life. After the Park Land Whale took them up to see the Tall Trees and brouoght them back, I took the Land Whale back up the very same road in order to leave the Park. Paul, Jocelyn and Eivind saw the Tall Trees and traveled the same eight miles twice. The Park Land Whale was air conditioned, I am sure, but the reaction to the Tall Trees seemed nonplussed. <br />
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With the end of the day looming with nearly 200 miles to travel, we ate dinner at Todd's Barbeque Shack and headed south with a vague idea of where to spend the night. Two Walmarts, a residential neighborhood, and a restaurant whose signs threatened us with towing and fines later, we settled on a truck stop by virtue of its space and claim to hot showers. The rest of the crew hit the rack but I was compelled to obey what Calvin of "Calvin and Hobbes" calls the '<i>inscrutable exhortations of my soul</i>' and try the shower. The attendant took my $5 and she handed me a thin white towel that might have been from the days of the Eastern European Bloc nations, a paper bathmat that looked like it doubled as a place mat at a diner and a key on a long rubber bungee cord. Unlocking the shower room, I saw what prison showers must really look like. Squinting to avoid seeing things I would only have to tell you about, I luxuriated in the soothing hot dribble of water in the shower. Sure, the sign on the door said that if showers exceeded 5 minutes, a showerer's deposit would be forfeit, but I had a couple days of Land Whale wrangling to get off me so I didn't care. Imagine my delight, though, upon returning the bungee key when the attendant smiled and gave me three bucks back. I recalled talking with Robert at Dell Artemis Farms about what constitutes 'luck' and noted this was an example he would have liked.Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-78585153092366679772012-09-03T16:54:00.000-07:002012-09-05T13:20:25.805-07:00Bay BoundAfter filming the electric tractor at work for a future video, We left Steve Heckeroth's and headed south back over the crazy goat tracks that California decided to pave and call highways. I admire them for their penuriousness but I curse them for the steep blind corners, their BMW convertible drivers and for all love, their bicyclists who choose to train on said "highways." Having gotten the 27' long Land Whale safely all the way back to a real highway, 101, I felt there should have been a cold beer and a medal for me.<br />
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Our next stop was in Petaluma so Paul could give a talk at the local Seed Bank. The Seed Bank is located in Downtown Petaluma in a former bank building which is a cool thing given its name. What is even cooler is that this is a building that was designed to be as impressive as a temple for money you could imagine. The ceilings in the Bank lobby is about 30 feet high with arched windows that go nearly the full height of the walls. There are all sorts of medallions on the wall (a couple of matched griiffins were especially remarkable), marble floors, etc. that now serve the place as a temple to heirloom seeds. That was a delightful reuse of a building a bank could no longer make it in.<br />
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Before Paul's speaking engagement we all enjoyed dinner at a Sushi restaurant with James, our delightful host (a Yorkshireman!) and one of Paul's fellow permaculture warriors, Toby Hemenway. Not surprisingly, they talked shop and permaculture gossip until it was time to leave. Eivind soaked up every word and jumped in where he could. This trip is turning out to be more than he hoped for with each of these encounters with permaculturalists. James, who is a civilian like me, visited with me about a variety of non-permaculture topics. James, by the way, was a terrific host. He ferried us to and from our various obligations safely and timely. On top that, he made sure we had a great breakfast before we dashed off 101 to San Francisco. Thanks, James, for your brilliant hosting!<br />
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Now, San Francisco is one of my favorite cities. Some of my most favorite memories occurred here and when I visit, they hang around like welcome ghosts. The places and experiences will always be a rich source of things to remember fondly. So, why are we here? Well, Paul has this thing for the Palace of Fine Arts. He saw it once and it has haunted him and never left his bucket list so we had to go see it. My misgivings about taking the Land Whale to San Francisco's streets notwithstanding, the Parking Fairies looked out for us and plopped a three space spot for us and we took them all. As I got out of the rig, a local police officer rolled up and I asked, "Can I park here? That big guy needs to see the Palace of Fine Arts real badly" The cop said, "No." "Even for half an hour?" I countered. He looked at the Montana license plates on the Whale and said, "OK." How reasonable do you want your peace officers to be? About that reasonable. And it made Paul happy to see the Palace of Fine Arts. I think it is the only thing I know of that dwarfs him:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaY292kf6lxawyGWv-NUinUF_nkaCwzNqWtfg9RqlBcDf7QGXY1YmrdyKx3uUFOe7ymI8wStuETWpw9-m3l_ufFuyxCN6JzrbFcx-15n_lb9fLtSfuFpqusPEkdqTMmVv-L5vPkhODGHE/s1600/Paul+9-3-2012+12-17-53+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaY292kf6lxawyGWv-NUinUF_nkaCwzNqWtfg9RqlBcDf7QGXY1YmrdyKx3uUFOe7ymI8wStuETWpw9-m3l_ufFuyxCN6JzrbFcx-15n_lb9fLtSfuFpqusPEkdqTMmVv-L5vPkhODGHE/s640/Paul+9-3-2012+12-17-53+PM.JPG" width="640" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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The second reason we came to San Francisco was for Paul to meet up with Carol Steinfeld. Carol is a waste water treatment pioneer who has planned a variety of ecological human waste systems and has authored three books <u>Liquid Gold</u> which is about the beneficial use of human urine. Now, don't get all icky on me. To hear her talk about the chemistry, the biology and the physics, it is clear there is room for open, adult conversation about this subject. Her other books are <u>Reusing the Resource</u> and <u>The Composting Toilet</u>. You can understand why someone involved in permaculture would be interested in Carol's ideas. After lunch at Scoma's down on Fisherman's wharf, Paul and Carol sat down to record a good, long podcast about, I swear, 'your poop and pee.' It will be up in a couple of weeks. Her work and eco plumbing products are available at <a href="http://www.ecovita.net/">www.ecovita.net</a>, and her books are available through <a href="http://www.carol-steinfeld.com/">www.carol-steinfeld.com</a>. She invites your experiments in this field and welcomes your comments and experiences, so let her know what's going down.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNaiT4pq6R5dP9HSiNVykf5u6mI9lAMc05aWSDujBrUdh24r8JX3sTF09rifroF3HHRqdOKs7_GxTZCbkB4sbaMpv2ir8tm6O3JAeVhbHWC3-nfOVwwm2M7BCknIQ4UTgHtAseEOTDjRc/s1600/Scoma's+9-3-2012+3-02-55+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNaiT4pq6R5dP9HSiNVykf5u6mI9lAMc05aWSDujBrUdh24r8JX3sTF09rifroF3HHRqdOKs7_GxTZCbkB4sbaMpv2ir8tm6O3JAeVhbHWC3-nfOVwwm2M7BCknIQ4UTgHtAseEOTDjRc/s400/Scoma's+9-3-2012+3-02-55+PM.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(l to r) Carol, Jocelyn, Paul, Eivind at Scoma's</td></tr>
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Lunch and the podcast consumed more than our scheduled time in San Francisco so in spite of not going to Cha Cha Cha's, Rue Le Pic, Mario's Bohemian Cigar Store, and visiting friends and relatives (next time, Nephew Tim!), we must be off to visit a farm near Yosemite Park. Now, how do I get a Land Whale out of San Francisco?<br />
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<br />Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-29669190026823592932012-09-02T22:09:00.002-07:002012-09-02T23:34:26.436-07:00A Friend for LifeI woke up this morning at 6:30, fully awake and excited to see my friend, Larry "A.J." Hanne. Larry is a professor and researcher at Chico State University. I met Larry back in the early '70's when I was an RA in Duniway Hall on The University of Montana campus. Larry and his room-mate, John, arrived at UM from UC Davis as graduate students studying, respectively, biochemistry and microbiology. Larry at one point acknowledged to his closer dorm-mates that his work was in research in gonorrhea, or "the gong," as he taught us to know it by. He and John were quickly assimilated into an odd group of friends who were characterized by their love of cribbage and late night movies. And Pinball. We loved playing pinball at the UM Rec Center and eventually came to call ourselves the "River City Pinball Team" who wore team shirts with our nicknames on them. Larry was known as "A.J" which was short for 'anti-juke' a pinball playing maneuver he claimed to have invented. If you ever saw him play, you know it's for real.<br />
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Of course, real friendship is much more than that. It is time spent in conversation, sharing ideas, discussing issues as if they mattered, respecting another point of view, and, at the end of the day, knowing that if the chips were down, a friend is one person who would be there to do what a friend needs to do, no questions asked and without hesitation. I would always want Larry to think I was that kind of friend because I know he is that kind of friend to me. So, we might all ask, how come I haven't seen him or hardly talked to him in twenty years or so? I don't know--time, distance, focus on our own lives--all these explain it but they don't excuse it.<br />
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Still, today when he rolled up at Woodleaf Farms to pick me up to go to breakfast, it was as if I hadn't seen him for a few days. We fell right into our conversational patterns, laughing at all the right places, knowing the bumps in life we shared over a Denny's breakfast were grasped and understood and empathized with to just the right degree. We had a couple hours to catch up, but it wasn't enough after all these years. Hell, it wasn't enough if it had been a couple of days.<br />
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I don't know what it is about the people I consider my truest and dearest friends. They all seem so unlike me. I cannot say what clicked to make us friends or make me care about them the way I do. Do you have friends that are a mystery to you that way? Like the women in my life that I have felt love for, each of my friends has a different perspective that enriches me, they have all taught me something about life, they have all made me want to be as good as they imagine I am. Larry will always be my friend and it won't take me 20 years to see him again.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gxg2YCN8iXlixo3ErjiJwEY-2hky7bKwdCMDTR6L-D-wk4CZFKuRps5EWVPoQjyoRpZdo1kYZ00pqa831NGc3i4sULxHJatYMt9Mt_iuWEVlakbeR1LFAqjdL4TFdUdkKLyO87PfAUw/s1600/AJ+and+me+at+the+Land+Whale+9-1-2012+11-11-39+AM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gxg2YCN8iXlixo3ErjiJwEY-2hky7bKwdCMDTR6L-D-wk4CZFKuRps5EWVPoQjyoRpZdo1kYZ00pqa831NGc3i4sULxHJatYMt9Mt_iuWEVlakbeR1LFAqjdL4TFdUdkKLyO87PfAUw/s400/AJ+and+me+at+the+Land+Whale+9-1-2012+11-11-39+AM.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Larry in front of the Land Whale</td></tr>
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After Larry headed home it was time to head West with the next part of the Permie Tour 2012. It was over to the Coast to visit Steve Hekeroth near Albion, California.<br />
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To get there means crossing the Central Valley of California, no mean feat even if you can avoid the farm vehicles and getting run up the backside by a semi with urgent business on the other side of you. If that weren't enough, there were scores of miles over unbelievably windy roads which, if they weren't going up rather steeply, were going down rather steeply-er. <i>[See previous posts about my thoughts on the usefulness of brakes.]</i> I am sure it was an oversight on Paul's part in picking out the Land Whale that does not include a 500 c.u. hemi motor and a tuned Ferrari suspension with the wide, super grippy Pirelli tires. Sure would have helped today. It was a good thing I had Eivind in the navigator's seat keeping me on course. He called out the turns and directions in a timely, helpful way. There is simply no telling you how big a difference that makes to my performance.<br />
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This part of our trip took us past a number of wineries without stopping. I like wineries and the wine makers I have come across have a fairly solid land ethic and are good stewards. They must pay attention to the soil, weather, water, seasons, fruit, etc. as much as any permaculturalist, I suppose, and many eschew use of fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides. They love bees and provide good bee habitat. But they come from a tradition that is largely monoculturalist and so will never get the Paul Wheaton permacultural seal of approval. Paul is not a wine drinker so his rigidity in this regard may be understood.<br />
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Oh, and another nice diversion...we stopped for a respite at Boonville and soon Paul came rushing back to the Land Whale saying, "Come quick! I have found someone who wants to be famous in your blog!" Up I jumped and followed Paul to the Boont Berry Farm (home of naturally fine foods!) where I met Jessica Ceja who loved what the Permie Tour was all about and wanted to join us. (Her co-worker, Taunia Green, was also very cool and hip to what we are doing, but she is OK in Boonville for now.). Too bad, Jessica, maybe next tour...still, Paul left her smiling:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jessica of Boont Berry Farm and Big Paul</td></tr>
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Back to the tour...Steve is perhaps best known for his work developing electric tractors. Think about it: a machine that could be used in farm operations that would be powered by the electricity generated from sun or wind. One less bundle of cash in the petroleum company's pocket and a bit cleaner planet. Steve's experiences prove it is feasible and scalable to some degree which means that it is a technology to be shared and improvised and improved upon.Here is one example of one of Steve's electric tractors. Yep, still in use on his farm.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HJo2WiRY5GSH7Q5rB37VUa_qK06CqO9e_jLqSzdEexORCBu_bdwdf0mpA-6lNQbwuOf9IgvH0yz12jweeqqssPrhtrdEcZ4sNVyuH3XmKe52jLkQuGTwY19eLedJ5b_j-0b4yI4oTBA/s1600/IMG_4903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HJo2WiRY5GSH7Q5rB37VUa_qK06CqO9e_jLqSzdEexORCBu_bdwdf0mpA-6lNQbwuOf9IgvH0yz12jweeqqssPrhtrdEcZ4sNVyuH3XmKe52jLkQuGTwY19eLedJ5b_j-0b4yI4oTBA/s320/IMG_4903.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Steve Hekeroth Electric Tractor</td></tr>
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Like all the farmers we have met on this tour, Steve is a creative visionary guy who delights in putting his thoughts and ideas to work through his own hands. Here are some of the structures he has imagined and built. First up, his home (below.) You will note the tall structure is a water tower with a windmill that powers the pumps to get the tower filled with water. Then it can be used by Steve's extensive gravity fed system to irrigate his gardens, etc.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0uiddLqXTz4YHsHAxRaCiBzZYOKfivIbzmjQLGhLk2-Tht_1hgbZY1t5qZH4xPtV7AuNMn-pX5tmChz9s60JAz6Zv6bziwa8IEPCdfblAr7_XWZDcytHCtL4RnxD3R3FbfKxC5L0NGo/s1600/Steve's+Home+9-1-2012+6-32-50+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0uiddLqXTz4YHsHAxRaCiBzZYOKfivIbzmjQLGhLk2-Tht_1hgbZY1t5qZH4xPtV7AuNMn-pX5tmChz9s60JAz6Zv6bziwa8IEPCdfblAr7_XWZDcytHCtL4RnxD3R3FbfKxC5L0NGo/s400/Steve's+Home+9-1-2012+6-32-50+PM.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steve Hekeroth's home</td></tr>
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One of the VERY cool features Steve has on his place is a cement swimming pool that functions as a receptacle for water treated in a network of swales. Taking impure water from grey systems, run-off, etc. and channeling it through the ponds that hold plants which take up and filter the bad stuff results in a pond with water clean enough to swim in --without use of chlorine! In addition to the pond itself, surrounded by plants feeding into it, the structure also includes a tree house (built in a living tree) linked to the mainland by a graceful cement bridge. Other features in progress include a sauna with a hot tub on its roof which is, in turn, connected by a water slide to the pond, a diving board, a giant raft with a fire pit on it, art and other decorations. As Steve walked up through the project, he quietly observed, "A guy's gotta have some fun in his life."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Ce-Ment Pond</td></tr>
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While Steve's plants are hard at work doing their filtering, uptake thing, there is still a problem of algae growing in the pond. Through a combination of aeration and time, Steve hopes to have the "ce-ment pond" suitable for swimming before long.</div>
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<tr align="right"><td class="tr-caption">Outhouse</td></tr>
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Eivind offered that Steve Hekeroth is a genius, and to that I would add Renaissance Man. He seems both at ease and acutely aware of things he makes. One example is this outhouse he built out of a stump. From the outside it looks like something a hobbit might have fashioned. Inside it's another story. Not only is the commode beautiful, it is comfortable. All hand-fashioned by Steve, it contains an innovative waste handling system that is both efficient, ecologically sound, essentially odorless and a wonder.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The seat of ease</td></tr>
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Finally, we enjoyed a delightful dinner tonight with Steve and Anna, who is visiting to do some tweaking on the pond systems. Like all the people we have met on the farms we have visited, Steve is gracious, humble, visionary and hospitable. We see if that holds tomorrow when he and Paul put their noggins together for a podcast session. </div>
<br />Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-84228115687363547532012-09-01T22:19:00.000-07:002012-09-02T23:35:41.873-07:00Just Peachy<br />
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While at the Chaffin Family Orchard Farm, and while I was taking some time for myself away from the group, I noticed a field next to our parking space that was full of old farm machinery and other relics. Now, every farm I know of has equipment that wears out past the repairable stage; maybe it can be made into parts, or sold someday, but often it gets left in some field. These pieces seemed more than left, they seemed composed. Now, I am no photographer, and what I know about capturing images can be summarized in the phrase, 'point and shoot.' Still, there was something about these hot, rusted hulks and husks that begged to be put into images. Yeah, not my job. Yeah, the light was all wrong. Yeah, I was stuck on the wrong side of fence. Still, here is what I got:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot Iron 3</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot Iron 5</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Before leaving the Chaffin Family Orchard, I should share with you that this is a family orchard/farm that has been owned and managed by 5 or so generations of the same family. All along the way the family has been committed to the idea of producing flavorful, healthy foods. Their orchards produce mouth watering fruits of all kinds including citrus. [I am dying to tear into a massive, delicious-looking grapefruit that was among the cornucopia of food they gave us. In addition to their fruit, they also run chickens, turkeys, goats and cows using what is called a "paddock shift system" where the animals are frequently moved so their grazing feed is fresh and the work they do is useful and not damaging. They have followed the principle of turning outputs into inputs and putting everything in the farm operation to work doing something. The goats help with the pruning, the fowl help with bug control and fertilizing the ground, the beef keeps the pastures under control as they live out their grass-fed lives on the range.<br />
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Interestingly, the farm has a "friendly to predators" philosophy they follow. Using guardian dogs and electric fences, they keep their livestock and chickens safe. At the same time, they know that the predators are working to keep the voles and other damaging critters at bay. The Chaffin family operators don't want to spend a lot of time killing predators. They figure by managing their farm operation mindfully, they can co-exist with the coyotes, racoons, mountain lions and other species that are normally considered the animals that terrorize farming operations. Would this approach work on any other farm or ranch? I don't know, but I hope this example gives other farmers something to think about. All critters, after all, are simply trying to do what we are trying to do: survive. As the alpha species capable of destroying everything in our path, don't we have some sort of obligation to think about things as the Chaffin family has?<br />
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By the way, as solid and organic and committed as the Chaffin's are to a basically organic operation free of herbicides and pesticides, they are still caught up in the obligation of innovation on their farm. They are excited about permaculture and whether adding permaculture to their operation will make it even better. If you are ever in Oroville, get something produced on the Chaffin Family Orchard farm operation and tell me if you don't agree they have latched on to something with some real bottom to it. <br />
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After leaving the Chaffin Family orchard, We headed over to the nearby Woodleaf farm. We had no sooner docked the Land Whale when we met Carl Rosato, the owner and operator. Carl shook my hand with his own strong, calloused farmer's hand and handed me a just-picked peach. If I told you it was the best peach I ever ate, I am confident I would pass a lie detector test with flying colors. The Woodleaf operation is small enough (Carl and his hand, Leo do almost all the work) that their commitment to raising good food is met completely. Whether it is peaches, apples, pears, mushrooms, figs, or other produce, it is ALWAYS harvested at the peak of ripeness and good flavor. Carl deals primarily with his customers through markets he attends. After 32 years attending his farm, Carl ought to know what's what and his peaches speak loudly for him.<br />
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In addition to seeing his excellent orchards and gardens, Carl showed us around his many construction projects which are in various states of completion. Among the projects is one he called his "man-cave," a place on his property that he can retreat to to edit his video productions and simply find a cool place to retreat. Like many operations, things take a while to become fully visualized and even longer to become realized. Carl seems to be both urged on by his projects and yet wise enough to let them season in time. He is a consummate farmer, both thoughtful and innovative. He also has some quality that strikes me as being definitively human. He is an admirable man.Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-25374024124943256622012-09-01T21:23:00.000-07:002012-09-05T15:29:29.958-07:00Give Me A Brake!The area around Lake Siskiyou in Northern California is blanketed by smoke from wildfires located very near our destination. As we descended into California' Central Valley, I-5 was about the craziest driving I have been in since I can remember. Lots of semi-trucks, lots of people going somewhere in a tear ass hurry on roads that invite a little reticence. In my own car I would probably be right with them, but the Land Whale's lack of nimbleness and plowing tendencies keep my constantly checking my mirrors to see who I might be pissing off and who might take a shot at passing us from a blind spot behind the Whale Tail. One of Paul's readers warned me to take care, and I am glad I did. Engineers working on the flight control systems for the Space Shuttle described their problem as having to "fly a brick." Many times at the wheel I have been reminded of that description.<br />
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On the way down I-5 we stopped at the little railroad town of Dunsmuir and had breakfast. The town's origins were rooted in the need for railroad trains to need "pushers" to get over the pass. I believe the town was originally known as Pusher. Anyway we ate at a lovely, funky Cafe called the Dogwood Diner and, during our breakfast, Paul and Jocelyn and Eivind and I recorded a podcast on non-chemical ways to do house chores. Be looking for it among Paul's future podcasts--it will be as amusing as it is informative. I would like to do a shout out to the artists of Dunsmuir whose art graces the community at every turn. Finally, a shout out to our friendly, attentive server. If the Land Whale was all about picking up passengers on an <i>ad hoc </i>basis, I would have found room for you--you seemed to have a spirit that would have added to the Tour. I suspect you and Eivind might have found something to talk about.<br />
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The farm we visited is very remote and required taking the Land Whale up a winding canyon road, to an unbelievably winding side road (with logging trucks, no less) onto a short road that was barely wide enough for the Land Whale to the farm itself. I made the final looping turn in anticipation of our departure this morning and when I went to stop, the brake pedal went right to the floor. Imagine my surprise. Paul said, "Don't worry, they are probably just hot from all the use they got today." Me: [WTH?] These are the brakes, after all, and I don't like systems that fail when they're hot. We are in California and it is wildfire hot. Those brakes seem important to me, especially since we had to backtrack all the way to Redding to pick up I-5 again. As the Tour driver, I told Paul my job was to 1) have everyone arrive alive and 2) get where we need to be on time, provided #1 is met.<br />
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In the mean time, we had a great visit with the couple who own the farm, The Dell Artemis Farm. [I don't know what to make of the naming of farms. It is one of the VERY few things farmers get to do for free. How do you pick a farm name? Does it speak to you? Do you grow up thinking, "If I ever own a farm, I am going to name it---?" Do you make it speak to your hopes or dreams? Is it part of your marketing scheme?]<br />
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Robert and Marina are raising, chickens and pigs, vegetables, etc. That they have chosen to build their place from the ground up is very impressive. I mean, there was nothing there when they started but the land itself. They have lived in a cramped cabin structure for quite some time but are building more suitable quarters, as well as shelter for their animals. They have a pretty impressive gravity fed water system for irrigation and consumption, solar shower, an amazing root cellar, and other improvements that belong on a farm. They are 21st century pioneers, plain and simple. Yes, they have the internet and telephone service, power tools, and farm vehicles, but they have not chosen an easy path. It seemed they are working toward a dream and fulfilling the dream is giving their lives meaning and joy. They are employing human initiative, problem solving and creativity in their work on their farm. Every farmer does that, I suppose, but they are going to own their place body and soul when they are done. Not relying on chemicals as fertilizer or herbicides means they have to find different ways to accomplish agricultural results that are sustaining and profitable.<br />
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While there, Paul recorded a couple of podcasts. The first, over wine, was about philosophy, getting along, good fortune, etc. You will have to wait for the edited version before you can be certain anything insightful was said. Finally, before we left, Paul did another podcast with our hosts about their lives, experiences, approach to farming as well as other topics. THAT one will be worth listening to, I believe if nothing else than to demonstrate that not everyone lines up entirely in line with Paul's views. Marina knows how to push back.<br />
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So, we have worked our way further south and east. I am writing this from the deck of the Land Whale docked here at the Chaffin Family Orchard outside of Oroville, California. I am in need of a little not-driving time to myself. The rest of the band is off touring the place and learning how they operation works and Paul is no doubt making observations and suggestions. That is what he does. Later we will head to Woodleaf Farms near here.<br />
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Oh, and about those brakes. It seems they were just hot yesterday because today they worked fine. I am lobbying for a complete inspection/tune up, etc. in the Southern California area before we head across the desert to Phoenix. I am enjoying the driving and the things I am seeing, but safety first.Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-30088075254980032572012-08-29T20:49:00.001-07:002012-08-29T20:49:14.850-07:00Then We Were FourAfter waking up at the Oregon State Beach Campground South of Newport, and breaking camp, the men had lunch--fish tacos all around--with a few hands of penny-ante poker at the Cafe' Mundo. Paul and Jocelyn had found this place on a previous visit and Paul wanted me to see it. It's a wild little place decorated by local artists and long on funk but short on grokking Mexican food, in my humble opinion. It made me long for Taco Del Sol on Higgins Avenue in Missoula. They know how I like my fish tacos. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jimmy Pardo at the Cafe' Mundo</td></tr>
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As soon as he walked in the door, Jimmy spotted the stage and a million open mike night posters. He asked the server if it was OK for him to get on stage and play his Uke (through his amp, of course.). Whether it was the nature of the place or the fact that the lunch rush hadn't started, she said 'yes' and before anyone knew it, he was on stage zoned out in his own groove. I don't know what to call Jimmy's music. It's kind of a jazz-funk-rock fusion deal, I guess. He uses feed back and looping to give his sound a greater dimension. He has pick-ups on the body of his hollow body Uke to allow him to play percussion while he plays, too. And when he plays, Jimmy goes someplace very spiritual. I guess that is why Paul likes to use his music to back his videos. Keep an eye on this guy--his music is going to take him as far as he wants it to.<br />
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After we left Newport, we headed south toward Creswell near Eugene. Jeff Tunnell had invited Paul to make a presentation at the hall next to his daughter's establishment, Heidi Tunnell Catering and Event Center. The Event Center is next to Heidi's restaurant where they make delicious pizza in a custom-made wood fired pizza oven. Over 45 interested folks showed up to hear Paul hold forth on his thoughts on the relative aspects of urban versus rural lifestyles and each's affect on the planet. Anyone who has listened to Paul's podcasts knows they were in for stuff that would challenge their world view, and he didn't let them down.<br />
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Afterwards we get the Land Whale all snuggled in behind Jeff's barn on his farm outside of town. Jeff came aboard the Land Whale and joined us in a glass of wine (except Paul who does not partake) and good conversation. Jeff was gracious to invite Paul and super about publicizing and promoting his talk--the fact that he allowed our band of gypsies to camp out at his place was going the extra mile.<br />
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The sad event of the day was Jimmy's departure to return to Portland. He took all his gear (including his amp and Uke) and hung out his thumb while we motored on. Later today we got word from Jimmy that the Universe had bestowed him with a cool ride with someone who was interested in having Jimmy do some music for him. While he was with us, he added a unique dimension as musician, philosopher, person on a quest, and wonderful smile. Now we are Four.<br />
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After leaving Creswell, we headed South on into California. The Land Whale had a hiccup and wouldn't start last night but just why remains a mystery. We have a full charge on the battery and had it checked. We ruled out the solonoid and unless the new fan belt is sli[ping (and there is no sound to indicate that) I am putting my bet on gremlins. We got as far as Lake Siskiyou Camp ground based on their advertisement of laundry and showers. <br />
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Now I have clean clothes. I always say, a drawer full of clean underwear is like money in the bank. I have showered and shaved and realized we were exactly halfway through the journey. Two more weeks to go, and thousands of miles. Tomorrow we head to a farm in northern California to look at some exciting alternative approaches to agriculture.Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-85723394439398540942012-08-27T21:24:00.002-07:002012-08-28T09:06:44.851-07:00It's a Family AffairWe were all set to leave Friendly Haven Rise Farm when the Land Whale curse struck again. This time, a dead battery with no explanation that a layman could provide. We decided to get a jump from Joseph and be on our way and see what happened.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Give me juice!!!</td></tr>
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Paul had a presentation at Beaverton, Oregon so progress seemed to be something for which it was worth taking a risk. As we cruised down the highway, Jocelyn, in another of her amazing pull-the-rabbit-out-of-the-hat moments determined that a place for battery assessment and replacement existed only two blocks from Paul's engagement. I dare say the woman is amazing as she finds these solutions to problems floating in the Universe and drops them into my lap. Anyway, we found ourselves at the battery place and Pat, a harried and multitasking store manager, dropped us into the work queue after determining that the Land Whale's battery was not holding a charge.<br />
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Paul and Jocelyn and Eivind went to the speaking engagement and I dealt with the battery. Given the location of Beaverton, I called my brother, Jim, who lives nearby. Fortunately, he was only moments into making dinner and suggested he and his lovely wife, Sharon, would be swooping in to pick me up to take me to dinner to an Italian restaurant they had been wanting to try. It is always great to spend time with Jim and Sharon because they are solid, caring people. I admire Jim for the man he turned out to be. Dinner was pleasant but way too short.<br />
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I got to Paul's presentation in time to see him working his magic before a crowd of engaged listeners who hung on his every word. Well, maybe not every word, but certainly most of them. He showed portions of a video of one of his heroes, Austrian farmer Sepp Holzer. As we approached nine o'clock I started giving him the cut off signal but it is always hard to pull him away from people who are eager to learn what he has to teach. Upon leaving at long last, we picked up the last member of the tour, Jimmy Pardo, the guy who makes the outstanding music for Paul's videos. It has been great traveling with Paul and Jocelyn and Eivind, but adding Jimmy made our number five, and the dynamics changed in a perceptibly positive way.<br />
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Charging down I-5, our destination was to my sister, Jean's house. Jean and I had our tonsils out together when we were very young and that experience of being in the hospital created a link that has always been there. It was a time when our history was inextricably bound tighter than just being siblings. Anyway, Jean exudes hospitality and caring and she took my band of fellow travelers in without a second's hesitation. That is one of the hallmarks of our family, I think; the price of admission and acceptance is simply being somehow tied to another member of the family. Over the years I have seen the boyfriends and girlfriends (among these, some of them mine) introduced by siblings and my family has embraced each of them warmly and without reservation simply on the basis of a brother or a sister saying, "he/she is with me." My band of Permie Tour 2012 folks appeared with me and Jean said, "Welcome!" We got dinner and breakfast and interesting conversation with Jean and her husband, Lawrence, who always has something that adds to the discussion.<br />
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Jean learned much of this attitude of hospitality from our Mother and Father, who were always rounding up strays for a Sunday dinner or other festivity. Looking at our schedule, I couldn't figure out how to get a visit to my Mom, who lives less than 30 miles from Jean. I couldn't even imagine how the heck I would get the Land Whale to her door or even how to get it back on the road. What a bad son! I called Mom and, like so many times in my life, my dilemma was met with patience and forbearance. No guilt trip, just love and best wishes for a fun and safe journey.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(l to r) Paul, Jocelyn, Geoff, Eivind, and Jimmy at Silver Falls</td></tr>
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In the morning we headed up to Silver Park where Jean's son, Dylan (my nephew), is the Interpretive Ranger. Dylan gave us the short loop tour of the Falls pointing out the interesting flora, fauna and geology. Jimmy spotted a small snake by the trail and Dylan carefully picked it up to find it was a type of garter snake he had not seen before in the Park.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dylan, Snake Handler</td></tr>
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I am as proud as an uncle can be of Dylan. He is upstanding, committed to making the world a better place and just a joy to watch as he engages with people. He is contemplating entering teaching as a career and nothing makes me want to be a first grader more than the thought of being one of his pupils. After the tour we got the Land Whale back on the road and headed to Newport, Oregon, for one of our rare off-days. <br />
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Newport is an ocean-side town, obviously, and it gave us all a chance to walk on the beach in the fog. Newport is also a popular spot for tourists so there was some shopping (ho-hum) by some members of our party. Our tour of Newport peaked at Nye Beach Sweets Shop because Paul needed ice cream. When Paul needs ice cream, well...Anyway, this was kind of a funky place and Paul determined that it was the place to bring out "the Hat of Awesomeness." This is a hat that was custom-made for Paul and his work promoting permaculture. There was something about this sweet shop that demanded an appearance by the hat. See if you can tell what it is.<br />
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This evening my dear friend, Heidi, called from Montana where she was waiting for "Shakespeare in the Park" to begin. I don't know how many years I have gone to this event with her and her husband Mike, or her and other friends, on the Oval of The University of Montana. I was touched that my absence prompted her call. I knew when I agreed to pilot the Land Whale for Paul that there were going to be certain important things in my life I would be forgoing, and this was certainly one of them. Shakespeare in the Park is one of those touchstones of tradition that binds us again and again to our friends so that no matter what happens in our lives, we always return to this stage and find familiarity, affection and understanding--those things which ground us when the planet and our daily lives would fling us into space. As you finish reading this, think of someone you know--a friend or family member--who needs to hear from you. Be that person who gives them grounding.<br />
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<br />Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-53872297339160853152012-08-26T13:39:00.000-07:002012-08-28T09:07:39.680-07:00Two For One! We finally pulled out of Jocelyn's driveway at around 7:30 to begin the tour in earnest; granted, a half hour later than I wanted but this trip is not so much about schedules as it is getting where we are going to let Paul teach and learn. I mean up to this point, it had been a matter of venturing out from the base camp of her home. Now we were leaving the planet and going into space in our own self-contained Land Whale. Eivind served as co-pilot and kept me posted on the GPS directions while Paul and Jocelyn sat at the dining room table and stayed connected to the world via our mobile hot spot. Connectivity is one of the problems we had to solve before this journey could be undertaken and it seems to work amazingly well.<br />
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Speaking of connectivity, nearly everyone agrees that connectivity of tires to the road is a good idea so when we were near Fort Lewis, Washington, a passing motorist waved frantically at us pointing to the left rear tire, I pulled over. Knowing the Land Whale, I knew this was probably extremely necessary. When we pulled safely off the road, our inspection of the rig showed that the outer tire of the rear dual set was pretty much shredded. Since the inner tire was keeping us up, Paul suggested we limp along to the next exit which was about half a mile away and pull off and put the Good Sam Road side Service membership to good use. In spite of taking an inordinate amount of time (a little staff development wouldn't hurt, Good Sam!) to get us located and our needs communicated, we finally got a visit from Bob of S and S Tires. This is what he was faced with: <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMXmVFnYZoS-LVqEdLGnj8QVNgD6X1UZlZBNg5tcROfoG2H0Z2rlj6KimnYWthbZyyi2rxQp-0IjlJp94QBbxaZiIx_V58IKilYZQJKBZHmsGwBcGPq5RZT8uNVGtpPRqwhKkQrxcCYc/s1600/One+of+two+flats+8-25-2012+9-53-19+AM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMXmVFnYZoS-LVqEdLGnj8QVNgD6X1UZlZBNg5tcROfoG2H0Z2rlj6KimnYWthbZyyi2rxQp-0IjlJp94QBbxaZiIx_V58IKilYZQJKBZHmsGwBcGPq5RZT8uNVGtpPRqwhKkQrxcCYc/s200/One+of+two+flats+8-25-2012+9-53-19+AM.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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Bob was one of those workman who doesn't sit around a chat--he had a job to do and he did it, quickly and efficiently. I think the only sentence he uttered while he was working was when he looked at the condition of the inner tire and said, "I'm surprised that one didn't go, too." He put two new tires on the Land Whale faster than I could even figure out how to do it if it was only up to me. He took a look at the rest of our rubber and pronounced it serviceable. I hope Bob is appreciated by everyone he helps as much as I appreciated him. Having cheated Death one more time, off we headed to <a href="http://www.friendlyhaven.com/" target="_blank">Friendly Haven Rise Farm</a>. <br />
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Navigating the Land Whale to the farm took us over roads that reminded me of a roller coaster. The civil engineers who designed these roads never gave much thought to them EVER having ice on them. I swear the vertical pitch to some of them seemed more than 25%. Like going over an asphalt waterfall. Wheee.<br />
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That stopped mattering when we finally arrived at Friendly Haven Rise Farm and the home of Jacqueline and Joseph. Their farm simply buzzes with activity--gardening, goats, chickens, cows, permaculture vegetable beds, cheese-making, and dozens of other farm-related activities. When we got there, we got put right to work butchering recently slaughtered chickens to go in the freezer to be eaten over the winter.<br />
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Starting with Big Paul (who was wielding a knife) and moving clockwise, we see Eivind (our fellow traveler) loading freezer bags with raw chicken leftovers for the energetic farm dog (Rousseau), neighbor Ray (who stopped by and is cutting chickens), Joseph (our host and head butcher) and Julie (a visitor who came by to learn permaculture methods to use in her own agricultural aspirations) all moving in good order to complete one of many necessary farm tasks. I volunteered my impeccably neat hand-writing to label the freezer bags.<br />
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These chickens were all "meat birds" and a couple of older layers that were raised on the farm. The chickens are farm workers, too. Nobody lives on the farm without a purpose. They help with pest control and can eat down a weed patch in short order. Rousseau is both a companion and a deterrent. He gets chicken bits in addition to a diet that includes goat milk whey left over from cheese making. The diet agrees with him because his bright-eyed and boundlessly energetic, always ready to chase a stick.<br />
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But what about that other buzzing? Why, those are the other several hundred thousand farm workers. Jacqueline is a beekeeper extraordinaire. Using Warre hives primarily, she keeps bees all over her property. The bees are an essential element to pollenization that is the cornerstone to plant production. Without the bees, eating becomes an almost insurmountable problem. Jacqueline, like a lot of beekeepers, has a special relationship with her bees that can best be described as wonder, reverence, fiercely protective and affectionate. She does very little with her bees for the sake of honey, however. That's their reward for the work they do.<br />
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Recently an old rotting tree was taken down in the neighborhood. When it hit the ground, the sawyer realized it was full of bees and so Jacqueline was called. Joseph and some friends went and got the portion of the trunk the bees were living in (an eleven foot section he says weighed a thousand pounds) and brought it back to Friendly Haven Rise Farm. Since the space inside the trunk was very limited, after setting it upright, Joseph cut a pattern that matched the exact shape of the top of the trunk and used it to help make the base of a double height Warre hive Jacqueline fixed tot he top of the trunk. That gave the bees a spacious penthouse to move into and enjoy the spectacular views from above the rest of the farm. Today the bees (feral bees of naturally occurring stock) are a prominent part of the Farm operation and are doing well.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jacqueline needs a ladder to visit her "tree bees"</td></tr>
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Friendly Haven Rise Farm is a fully functioning farm. Things grow here that feed people. Good things, healthy things. I know because I graced their table for lunch, dinner and pancakes for breakfast this morning. Both Jacqueline and Joseph are thoughtful people who are mindful of what it means to be stewards of the energy that feeds people. Their animals are well-treated, their plants, vegetables and fruits are healthy and wholesome without the application of pesticides or herbicides or fertilizers. Pests are not eradicated so much as kept in balance with other natural forces made up of plants, insects, birds or animals. Everything found on the farm is there for a purpose and the role of farmers like Jacquiline and Joseph is to find out what that purpose is, and keep its place in balance. Voles? When Jacqueline opens up on voles, it is with wonder and appreciation for all they do for her. Snakes? You bet--Friendly Haven Farm creates snake-friendly habitat so slither on in, there will be a place to stay and lots of slugs to eat!<br />
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I'm the driver. I am not a permaculturalist, a farmer, or a proselytizer for farming techniques. As a gardener I am little better than a dilettante. Seeing this operation is opening some doors in my mind about farming, though, and new ways of doing things. Jacqueline and Joseph gave me the word on making and applying some stuff called "tree paste" that they say boosts apple tree health and will probably discourage beavers. What's not to like about that?<br />
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<br />Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-14223529292167392292012-08-24T16:16:00.000-07:002012-08-24T16:16:34.313-07:00Tour EveWe launch the formal Permie Tour 2012 "Symphony with Seeds and Soil" tomorrow, so today is sort of a kick back, pack, stow, complete checklists sort of day. I have been living in the Land Whale for a week and have utilized some of that naval ship-shape-ness I have mentioned before. My bunk is made and stashed away each morning; my clothes are neatly put away in the tiny cubby hole that is mine; my bike tools, bike lights, spare flashlight, binoculars, etc. are stowed in what (in my mind) is called the "gear locker." The bikes are locked and loaded on the carrier, the gas tank is full, new wipers are on, I checked the oil--maybe I am finally becoming the neat-nik person my Mom was always looking for when I was a kid. Jocelyn is a kindred soul in this--I can tell she has that organizing gene. She is doing her part to see that things are being collected, organized and prepared for a final push to load out in the morning. She no doubt recognizes that she will be living with three men in a tiny space for three weeks and is probably trying to instill a standard that will make it work for all of us.<br />
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Speaking of Jocelyn, she is attending to the needs of her clients and setting them up for her to work for the next three weeks "on the fly" from the Land Whale which is equipped with a mobile wi-fi hot spot. All you readers who work at home, take heart. Now "home" can be a Land Whale hurtling down the interstate at 60 miles an hour or so. Or on some farm in California where interesting things are being grown in interesting ways.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crane Girl Statue</td></tr>
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Paul, who used to live in Seattle, felt we should take some "shore leave" this morning and go into Seattle. His sights to see were not the usual tourist fare, though. He felt the statue of the "Girl of a Thousand Cranes" a 'must-see' so we went there first. The story, he told me, was that a young girl who was a survivor of the atomic bombing of Japan became very ill due to radiation exposure. She believed that if she made one thousand paper cranes in the name of Peace, she would get better. He said she didn't make it to one thousand and she didn't live. Her peaceful example, though, of avoiding self-pity and working on a task devoted to world peace inspired the creation of a statue to her memory. Today the statue is continuously draped with the paper cranes folded by others who want to make sure the little girl always has thousands of paper cranes around her.<br />
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The next place we went was to the Ballard Locks (officially the "Hiram M. Chittenden Locks". These are the locks that allow boats to pass from Lake Union to Puget Sound. I have always been fascinated by boats and water and how humans have built things to take advantage of bodies of water. Today, for example, I saw a yacht that had to be nearly 100 feet long ease up into the locks and drop down into the Sound for a day of motor sailing, or heading off somewhere exotic. Right behind it were a couple of women in a small sailboat heading out for their own water borne day on the water. The people running the locks seemed experienced and helpful as they filled and drained the locks over and over again assisting people get where they are going. It looked like a job I would enjoy doing for a while, but only when the sun was shining which would probably mean Seattle would not be a good match. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat in Ballard Locks</td></tr>
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On the other side of the locks there is a fish ladder that allows salmon heading to the sea as smolt to leave and spawning salmon looking to return to their freshwater homes to get through the locks themselves. There is a cool viewing window where the returning fish swim by and get a rest from climbing the ladder before moving on. I saw a dozen children transfixed by the presence of living, wild fish right before their eyes. As a bonus, there were enormous sea lions hanging around the fish ladder like it was buffet night at the local fish joint--quite a show to seem them flash through the water after the salmon. If you are in Seattle with kids, its a winner of a stop, and I recommend it.(<a href="http://tinyurl.com/9yfzcrn">Ballard Locks</a>) There is a lovely park right there and the Carl S. English Botanical Garden so you can also go see some lovely, albeit not quite permacultural, gardening.Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-44007388571415477252012-08-22T17:08:00.000-07:002012-08-22T17:08:20.336-07:00InspirationalPaul and Jocelyn and I took our tour North to the area around Bellingham, Washington. We began with a visit to Delhi Wind Bamboo to see the bamboo nursery and ask questions of Jesse Copeland, an able hand in a bamboo grove or the deck of a ship.[ Full disclosure, Jesse is my nephew and Delhi Wind Bamboo is run by his Dad and Mom, who is my sister.] Delhi Bamboo supplies nurseries along the west coast states with decorative bamboo. Bamboo, technically a grass, is an amazing plant with many uses. There are thousands of varieties of bamboo and it can be found growing in almost every climate.<br />
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Here's an interesting game to play: The Use of Bamboo. Any number of players can play. The first player names a use for bamboo and then each player in turn names a use until every player has named a use and then the players start over naming a use in turn. Any player who cannot name a use for bamboo is out. The last player to name a use wins. The game goes on much longer than you think it can!<br />
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After leaving Delhi Wind Bamboo, we went to Inspiration Farms to visit Brian and Alexandra. Inspiration Farms is a great example of what permaculture practices can yield. Brian is a thoughtful, patient, intuitive individual who has developed a sensitivity for the plants and animals on his place and how they interact. Both he and Alexandra understand that their work is a knitting together of organisms in a way that forms a farm operation that produces abundant, healthy, tasty food. The basic layout of their farm begins with consideration of the contours of the land which allows Brian to take advantage of natural drainage paths to manage water and run-off from the animal pens. He also extolled the virtues of brush piles, pointing out that in early years the piles create habitat for birds, snakes and other critters who are part of his pest control strategy. Over the years as the piles break down, he is left with rich soil and new places to plant. After sitting down with Paul to record a podcast (go over to <a href="http://www.permies.com/">www.permies.com</a> in a week or so to hear it) Brian and Alexandra hosted us with a lovely lunch (dining <i>al fresco</i> on the farmhouse's patio) featuring the delicious food grown on their farm. Over the past 18 years Inspiration Farms has gone from a tired old farmstead to a ten acre fountain of vitality. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alexandra and Brian podcasting with Paul</td></tr>
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I believe in her book, <u>On Revolution</u>, Hannah Arendt made the distinction between <i>labor</i> and <i>work</i> where (paraphrasing here) 'labor' is effort spent for wages on someone else's behalf, and 'work' is something we all must do both to survive and because it edifies and sustains us. Brian(who is also a recognized glass artist) and Alexandra embody this work spirit on Inspiration Farms and the joy and satisfaction that comes from their attachment to their land and all it brings forth beams from their faces.<br />
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After leaving Inspiration Farms, we headed over to visit Christy. Her home is a great example of mindful farming in an urban context. I say "farming" because what Christy has going is more than just gardening. In addition to beautiful flowers and vegetables, she keeps an impressive flock of chickens of several varieties who come running when she whistles. She also showed us her gardening hugelkultur berm (see <a href="http://www.richsoil.com/hugelkultur/">http://www.richsoil.com/hugelkultur/</a>) that was not only covered with a variety of healthy squash plants, but had a variety of flowers and other plants including some "free range" potatoes. Christy claims she cannot raise potatoes on purpose but they have appeared in her hugelculture berm as volunteers and are thriving! She also pointed out this wasp nest high in a tree near her gooseberry plants. After years of trying to cope with berry bush worms--a form of caterpillar--she found this year that they were drastically reduced in number and she suspects the wasps have joined her permaculture operation as pest control drones.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wasp Nest</td></tr>
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Christy's efforts demonstrate that permaculture principles and techniques can be successfully used in an urban setting. The animals, trees, vegetables, flowers and other plants all seem to work together to create an oasis of beauty and bounty. Her "in-town" operation is healthy and thriving because of the joy and enthusiasm she brings to her projects and should give every urban dweller hope for what they might accomplish with less yard and more permaculture.</div>
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Our last stop of the day was to a place called Pragtree Farm and its residents, Paul and Kara. Pragtree Farm is a piece of agricultural property owned by the Evergreen Land Trust (ELT). It was started initially, I understand, some 40 years ago as kind of a rural laboratory for farmers and artists where different ideas about living on the land could be tried. Over the years different groups and individuals have lived at Pragtree and tried to make a go of it. As often happens, the land and the demands of agricultural stewardship in a context of group dynamics become so fractious and weighty, the human systems break down. That is what has happened at Pragtree. After frustrated worn out people left the place, the land and orchards have been neglected, the operational systems have broken down, the buildings need work and, most of all, the farm community and vision need to be re-established. Enter Paul and Kara who applied and were selected by the ELT to make a proposal to turn Pragtree around and head it toward something resembling its founding vision.</div>
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Sitting around their cozy kitchen table sipping tea, they talked with Paul about the challenges they faced, getting the farm's productivity back and negotiating the social and political mine fields that attend their circumstances being chief among them. It was refreshing to see the hope and determination to succeed break through again and again past the clouds of apprehension. This couple and their young family are returning to the land--not for the hard work and the many mistakes they will surely make--but to do something noble and good. They will work hard and their reaching out for knowledge and advice shows me they have a quality of humility and patience that seems consistent in the kind of farmers I am meeting. They are going to heal the land and bring forth good food in a way that is healthy, and I wish them the very best. </div>
Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-27796228280990078142012-08-19T22:56:00.000-07:002012-08-22T17:09:00.438-07:00Bullocks!!!This morning it was "out and down" at 4:15 a.m. I was up and THEN I heard a rooster crowing. The early call was made in order for us to scoop up Helen and Skip, two of Paul's Woodinville area fans, and head north to Anacortes to catch the early ferry to Orcas Island where a tour of the famous <i>Bullock's Permaculture Homestead</i> had been arranged. If you have never done a ferry trip through Washington's inter-coastal islands, put it on your "bucket list." The ride is smooth, the service is great and the views are spectacular.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the Ferry</td></tr>
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The Bullock Brothers brought an unusual approach to the property they farm on Orcas Island. Like all permaculture approaches, they approach farming like Tai Chi Chu'an. The purpose is not to work against Nature in farming but to observe, adapt and observe again using Nature as a partner more than an opponent to be subdued. Everything about growing must be considered: climate, <i>micro</i>climate, companion planting, water source and water treatment, the farmer's own consumption and waste generation, non-farm animals like bullfrogs and songbirds. It is this reflective engagement with farming that makes most people in the permaculture world consider the Bullock Brothers operation one of the most interesting examples of permaculture being employed, and one with obvious results.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A multiple-grafted apple tree or "Frankenfruit."</td></tr>
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The <i>Bullock's Permaculture Homestead</i> is a living laboratory, too, where young people vie to be awarded a spot on the Homestead's roster of 12 "skill builders." Skill builders are learning by doing as they implement the Bullock brothers' permaculture ideas on the farm. They learn practical skills used on every farm but also those skills of patient observation and consideration of systems at work both in Nature and on the farm. This learning aspect will prepare these young people to go out in the world not only with knowledge of farming but with a practiced eye to observe what is happening on the land.<br />
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One skill builder, Jane, conducted our group's tour today. For three hours she walked us through the farm's kitchen, herb garden, tree forests, ponds, chicken pens, plant and flower nursery, water management system, living quarters and a host of other elements at work. While we walked around the property she showed us example after example where the land had been healed, where innovative production methods were at work, where plants and soil and critters all seemed to buzz in a harmony that made me think, this is what farming ought to look like.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jane explains the solar-powered water pump system</td></tr>
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Now, among my readers there are doubtless those who are master gardeners or even permacultural enthusiasts. Those readers may have their own thoughts and ideas about what farming or even gardening should be, and they may feel the Bullock's almost exclusively off-grid experimenting is not practical any more than their heavy reliance on re-used, recycled and re-purposed stuff. The fact remains, we only have so much stuff and so many ways to use it before it is used up or spoiled.<br />
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Presently the world relies on a global corporate system that uses chemical and petroleum-based fertilizers, pesticides and questionable land clearance practices to provide the world's food. That approach has limits that seem more and more apparent every day. It seems to me that trying to be a partner in growing makes more sense than growing food in a global, highly mechanized and chemical basis in the long run as quality local food becomes more valued and appreciated. Could it be that permaculture and examples like the Bullock's Permaculture Homestead are going to show the way to make agriculture a much more meaningful and proximate part of human life? Do we have the time and means to fulfill the promise of permaculture?Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-5652637741996084432012-08-18T18:21:00.000-07:002012-08-18T18:21:40.990-07:00Make and MendAccording to Patrick O'Brian in his wonderful novels about 19th Century British naval captain, Jack Aubrey, Thursdays are "make and mend days." The day is set aside when the urgency of weather or warfare don't demand the sailor's time so the crew can focus on cleaning, mending, patching, re-stowing gear, etc. It's a day of light duty and an opportunity to inflict a little British naval order on the ship. Even though today is Saturday, we did a little make and mend around the Land Whale.<br />
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Land Whales (RV's) borrow a lot from maritime technology and small boat design. There are clever, somewhat smaller systems, cubbyholes and storage places wherever one can be imagined and elements that can serve multiple purposes such as a kitchenette seating area that will convert each evening to become a future crew member's bunk. Figuring out how to make these Land Whale features work takes some practice and figuring out, and that is what I focused on today while Jocelyn and Paul got their professional lives in order to be on the road. There are only the three of us at this time and we are still inventing this trip and what it will take to survive. As a result, I figure it is wise to get ahead of the learning curve and find places for all the stuff we figured we need so far. Stuff we urgently piled into the Land Whale when we picked it up, for example, has now been stowed in what I imagine is the best place and manner for it. <br />
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We still have room for some more stuff if it comes to that but we are definitely going to go on this voyage in ship shape. All the lessons our mothers tried to teach us about immediately picking up after ourselves, cleaning up our messes and putting things away now make so much more sense than when I was a teenager. And those lessons will now be our practice.<br />
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One alert reader commented to me about the "whole earth" angle of riding in a Land Whale while promoting permaculture, and wondered how the approach to this venture squares with planetary stewardship. Given all the many variables in Paul and Jocelyn's lives, given the places we need to go for Paul to do his lectures, etc. it all fit an ethical calculation that worked for Paul. And it only works if a would-be sailor comes along as a pilot and recorder of the tale. <i>Voila! C'est moi</i>. <br />
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For the next several days we are going to do some day trips to sites Paul and Jocelyn are interested in checking out. I will post pictures of the places we see.<br />
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<br />Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-15039188501663891452012-08-17T15:55:00.000-07:002012-08-17T15:55:33.947-07:00The Golden CordDay 2. Yesterday Paul realized he had forgotten to bring his laptop's
power cord and we sorted through all the possible solutions and finally
settled on his taking an early morning trip to Staples to see if they
had one that would fit. No luck. That meant heading to an electronics
superstore called Fry's that was sure to have it. Given the thrills of guiding the Land Whale through urban traffic, I had hoped there was a different way to get there, but we couldn't come up with it so off we went. The Land Whale's finer points do not include economical gas mileage, either, but the cord was a necessity if Paul was to deliver his presentation to his first scheduled group of fans and interested permaculturalists.<br />
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We had finished at Frys and were back on I-405 N when a huge racket started under the engine cowling between Paul's seat and mind. I suspected we had lost a belt and made a bee-line for the nearest exit which, as luck would have it, was right there. I cruised us into an ARCO gas station right off the exit and commanded only four or five parking spaces. Since Paul and my combined automotive knowledge and skill amounted to being able to locate the front and rear end of a vehicle 99 times out of 100, we knew we needed help. Paul called everyone he knew in the area to see if they could come help. After a couple of hours trying to see if my AAA would help (it wouldn't), and Paul's friends drawing a blank, we finally settled on calling a wrecker. In the mean time, Paul had a presentation to tweak and headed home to Jocelyn's to work on it, leaving me in the 95 degree parking lot to get the Land Whale road worthy once more. [To acknowledge that we had learned our lesson about planning for emergencies, Paul had me join the "Good Sam" roadside rescue and repair service so that the Land Whale would be covered where my AAA would not.].<br />
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Steve from Quality Towing showed up in his primary blue monster tow truck. He sized up the situation and began to go to work. I looked at the Land Whale and its weird wheel base and enormous length and began to worry that he was going to tell me rigs like ours couldn't be towed, that they had to be hauled out by Chinook helicopters. Instead, he got to work changing out his tow bits and making all fast. It was hot work on hot asphalt and it reminded me once again how many people in the world do tough work to make the rest of our lives function. [Thanks, you guys. You know who you are.] At long last after a thorough and careful job of getting the Land Whale up on the hoist, Steve looked at our exit route and saw it plugged with selfish drivers who lives required getting themselves someplace more urgently than allowing the half a minute it would take to get us out into traffic. I was about to offer to go stand in traffic to create the gap we needed when Steve put the whole shooting match into reverse and backed up about the length of the Land Whale and turned in the lot and exited out the other side. You won't hear me bragging about what a skillful driver I am after seeing that demonstration. As we pulled out into traffic, Steve remarked, "I'm taking you to Moe's. We do a lot of business with Moe's and I trust them."<br />
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Once at Moe's Steve got the rig parked on the street and proceeded to unhook it and put everything back the way it was when he picked me up at ARCO, The bill for hauling Land Whale to get fixed: $335. The value of seeing a good-natured, hard-working man do his job well in the blazing hot sun: Priceless. Well done, Steve. You are the man.<br />
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It was 4:00 and I found out the people at Moe's carried that same theme. Scott Moe, the owner, is a man who has exemplified what America is known for: one guy who started out with his skill and some tools who used hard work, competence and fair dealing and parlayed it into a successful small business with a good reputation. Scott and his people had plenty to deal with before the Land Whale landed in his lap and, yet, he put a couple of guys to work on getting me back on the road. John and Jered took a look and confirmed my diagnosis of blown belt and tried to match the remnants with a belt that would get the Land Whale's 1990 454 cu. inch Chevy heart beating again. <br />
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While waiting for NAPA to deliver the part, I asked Jered to take a look at the power steering fluid levels and to top it off it was low. Later he mentioned that it was below the minimum fill line. So now maybe a little more response? Meanwhile, NAPA had hard time confirming a delivery that late in the day so Scott sent Jered after it in the company truck. When he got back with the belt, it was the wrong size, so he had to go back. Because it was the end of the day, Scott took off and assured me John and Jered would get the belt "slapped on" as soon as it arrived. Sure enough, around 6:00 the belt was on and the Land Whale roared to life. Again, two guys doing their job to get somebody's life back on track. Not complaining, not flinging insults at the Land Whale--just getting it done. Taking my cue from Steve of Quality Towing, I trusted Moe's Truck Repair--I gave Connie, the accounts manager, my credit card and told her to charge us whatever it cost.<br />
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Paul got to his lecture and delivered his suitably tweaked presentation. On balance, it was probably best that the belt failed when it did rather than somewhere desolate and remote. Yes, it was an errand that ended up costing several hundred dollars, and, yes, it would have been better if Paul hadn't forgotten his cord, but the hassle was not nearly as bad as it might have been.<br />
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I hung out at the Land Whale until they picked me up around ten. On the drive back to Jocelyn's, I was astonished at the responsiveness of the Land Whale and felt some comfort in the fact that the beast was now better-mannered and sounder in it's operation. As I pulled in and shut down the rig, I noticed that the fuel gauge, full just yesterday in Spokane, was almost to E. To quote Firesign Theatre "While E has always stood for Excellence in my life, I guess it mean that little red needle is pointing to "empty." We haven't solved that problem in the Land Whale yet. Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3450223452741499588.post-79527381257389483092012-08-17T14:37:00.004-07:002012-08-17T15:57:50.593-07:00Call Me IshmaelAugust 15. [Paul Wheaton is passionate about permaculture as way to feed the planet. He thinks and researches and talks about it all the time. This tour of the Western United States was Paul's opportunity to tell more people about permaculture, its benefits for human health and the health of the planet. I can't speak to permaculture like Paul can so to learn more about it, head on over to www.permies.com. This blog is simply about my experiences as the tour driver.]<br />
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After sorting a number of packing and logistical challenges, Paul Wheaton and I set off from Missoula, Montana, for his brother Tim's place north of Spokane, Washington to pick up the RV we refer to as "The Land Whale." On the way we stopped at the Long Lake Dam where we encountered an osprey nest filled with a mama and two youngsters. It's always nice to see the raptors doing well. At Tim's place, we got a cursory tour of the Land Whale, its features and its systems and tossed our stuff in it and headed out. Call me Ishmael. Or maybe Captain Boomer.<br />
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Tim and his wife, Kristie, told us it was going to be a different kind of driving than I was used to. They attributed it to sitting in a driver's seat that was positioned forward of the wheels, but offered that I would get used to it by the time we reached San Diego. As soon as we set out, [Odometer: 63,395.7 Mileage: 0] I knew the Land Whale would handle in a way that was different than my 12-year old PT Cruiser. First, it is more than twice as long so there is much more to keep track of. Second, the 1990 Land Whale (a "Sprint" by Mallard Recreational Vehicles) has air shocks that rode us down Tim's dirt driveway in a pitching roll that reminded me of a bear juggling feathers while riding a unicycle. The steering was mushy and not terribly responsive with a slight hesitation after every slight turn of the wheel as if the rig was thinking about what I asked it to do before it did it. No racing at LeMans for us! It led to a day of constant steering/counter steering all the way to Woodenville near Seattle and harkening back to Procul Harem, my knuckles were a whiter shade of pale as I attempted to negotiate our behemoth in big city traffic. (More about that later.).<br />
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Shortly after passing an out-of-control wildfire near Cle Elum, we found ourselves in a forced time-out as road crews undertook seasonal blasting chores on Snoqualimie Pass. It was probably a good thing I got a bit of a rest because the next hour or so of driving was a lot of high speed, bumper to bumper stuff and, although I had the height advantage, 'nimble' was not a quality on my side. It was all I could do to keep between the lines and make my lane changes in a timely and safe manner. It wasn't as if it was simply me versus the road elements and traffic. Once, as I was turning left at an intersection, a guy in sports car in the lane to my right decided to perform a U-turn by crossing in front of me. Probably a death wish.<br />
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We did arrive at our destination, the home of Jocelyn, the gal Paul says he is keeping time with. I guess she is a clock or watch to him, but she is a very nice woman with a grand heart. I am pretty sure he agrees with me about that. We got the Land Whale parked and I chose to sleep in it, and too my surprise, it was a comfortable, restful place. In the future, I will be trying to sleep in it with three or four other people for a three weeks or so; it remains to be seen whether murder, mayhem or nightmares ensue.<br />
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<br />Geoff Badenochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04664459566820652785noreply@blogger.com0