Soul Camp 2016 -- Day 334

BUMP BUMP BADUMP BUMP

BUMP BUMP BADUMP BUMP

BUMP BUMP BADUMP BUMP

I remember a time when electronic music used to drive me batty. Repetitive, and lyrically lacking, I just didn't get the appeal. Combined with the social stigma of the illicit activities and the illegal nature of the underground rave scene, I stayed a good distance away for most of my life. Now, I'm not here to discuss the culture, the community, or the history of electronica, because I'm not nearly knowledgeable enough on the subject, but what I am here to do is share my experience.

As I have grown older, and wiser (though some would like to debate that point) I have learned much about love and acceptance. Everyone has their own path to walk, and what might be right for me is not going to be right for you. One fun part of my life has been finding people that want me to be who I am while enjoying who they are. I like to meet people where they are. I do not want to change them, I want to understand them. I want to accept them, and love them. I believe that if we could all learn compassion, the world would be a much better place.

While we were here in the redwoods this summer, there have been six major weekend events. Three of them were holidays, with all of the family celebrations and camp-style activities included. Two of them were biker events, with deep-throated Harleys, and lots of bearded old guys. The last one was Soul Camp, with the promise of all night parties and very pervasive, thumping bass lines.

The holiday weekends reminded me of the summer camp movies that I enjoyed when I was a kid. This was a little different since whole families were here, but there were lots of campfires and s'mores, volleyball and pool games, and wholesome fun! The biker events were a bit rougher around the edges, with a LOT more beer drinking and very loud, fiddle-laced, deep-fried rock and roll. Walking through the campground at night felt much like being in the bad part of town, and you kinda got the feeling like you would not really want to upset anyone.

Soul Camp was very different. The whole feeling of the place was like a huge egalitarian society from the future. There were no strangers to be found, because every person that you saw greeted you with a smile, a wave, or even a hug. This was the first time that I have felt this accepted and welcomed in any large gathering, and it was amazing. I worked a lot of shifts in the Pub, and got to meet a bunch of the coolest people. After work, walking home in the dark didn't feel the least bit uncomfortable. The bumping of the bass was better than a compass, since the main stage was about twenty yards from my home.  Dancing lights, dancing people, and dancing music were EVERYWHERE.

And so, we danced. A lot. We got as close to the stage as we could, so that the pumping sounds could be felt in our bones, vibrating our hearts and minds. We danced with people that had glow sticks, fuzzy hats, men in broom skirts, people with backpacks, skinny jeans, silk scarves, sunglasses (at night), and no shame. There was something very special about being able to do this among the ancient trees with the stars looking down on us. I think the universe was smiling.

I know I was.

This was the perfect way to wrap up this summer. This was our first workamping experience, and I love that it was so amazing. The relationships that we have built here are so genuine and deep, it is amazing to realize how quickly they were formed. And while I'm by no means a Club Kid, I will forever remember my first Soul Camp.

My life is AWESOME -- Day 304

"The rarest treasure in life is a true friend." ~ Sensei of Truth

When I was a dorky teenager trying to figure out how the world worked, I met another dorkier teenager that was equally lost. It was a strange time in both of our lives, being the sons of Bible school students, trying to learn about life and girls and sports and balance. Mostly sports and girls. Screw balance when you're fifteen, you know?

Over the years, my friend and I got into all kinds of situations, our parents would probably call "trouble" but when measured against other teenagers from the same era, I seriously question the comparison. (Like the time we VERY SNEAKILY watched "White Men Can't Jump" -- a rated "R" movie, sure to corrupt us to the core!) I won't even mention the fact that this was the summer after we graduated high school, because that would make us sound even less controversial.

Through the years, our friendship has grown and deepened. In the late 90's and early 2000's we worked together at a couple of different places. The most famous was probably Planet Hollywood in Dallas. The stories and adventures continued, even through marriages and kids. Spanning three decades and multiple cross-country moves, we always managed to keep in touch.

Now that we're living in the RV, the idea to visit friends that have moved away is always in the conversation, if the logistics would only cooperate. Sometimes the planets do align, and that happened last week! My friend lives a scant 12-hour drive north of where we're staying for the summer. The timing worked out and the reunion was nothing less than epic.

In celebration, and in line with our history of doing stupid things at the encouragement of one another, we decided to tackle the insurmountable Redwoods River Resort Giant Redwood Ice Cream Challenge.

I have personally built two of these ridiculous monstrosities, and watched 10 people fail at finishing during my time here. Whatever fantasies I may have entertained when first hearing about it were destroyed by watching other "more worthy" contestants get humbled by this mountain of sweets and dairy.

Until my friend came.

Let me be clear: I am an adult. I am a grown man. I have a wife and two children. I have a job and I use that money to pay bills.

"Dude," says my friend, "we should totally do this!"
"Dude," says adult me, "we TOTALLY SHOULD!"

Donning our server shirts from Planet Hollwood, circa 1999, we entered into the contest. We had plans and strategies that we had worked out over the course of the entire preceding day. We had read articles about food contests, and took notes. We weren't just going to beat the challenge, we were going to beat the challenge TOGETHER!

And then they built the sundae.

The distressed look on this child is for my health and safety

The judge (who also happened to be my boss) read us the rules, had us sign the disclaimers, and then set the clock for 45 minutes.

This is the last picture I took

The atmosphere of the gathering crowd was a mixture of excitement and disbelief. The tension was palpable as we prepared for this adventure of a lifetime. And then the the judge said, "Go!"

All strategies and plans flew out the window. I started shoveling this frozen mess into my mouth as quickly as possible. I was making a HUGE mess, with sundae all over my face, in my beard, on my shirt, dripping to the ground. I furiously scooped and swallowed until the warnings of a brain freeze started, and then I remembered the sage tip from Randy Santel at Foodchallenges.com: drink warm water. Refreshed, and saved from a pain worse than death, I plunged back into the morass.  I ate, and ate, and ate.

And ate...

and ATE.

I swear they used some magical portal bowl or somesuch, because I had steadily eaten more than I thought I could and barely made a noticeable dent in the damn lake of frozen dessert in front of me. I knew that I had to hurry because we only had a limited time. Glancing at the clock revealed: I had been eating for 7 minutes.

I thought I was going to die.

My friend was not doing much better. The frantic spoonfuls had been reduced to more thoughtful scooping, trying to dig out the frozen bricks that were once brownies, or candy bars. What once passed as ice cream now looked like a pool of Pepto Bismol past its prime. There was enough ice cream in my beard to make a nice sundae for a small child. And we still had more than 37 minutes left.

The mood of the crowd had shifted from morbid curiosity and excitement, to disappointment bordering on disgust. Parents were whispering explanations to their children: the cautionary tale of the overzealous old guys whose eyes were much bigger than their stomachs. Random strangers were taking pictures to immortalize this gross display of hubris and folly.

"Dude, this isn't going to work," my friend confessed.

"How much longer do you want to keep up the facade?" I asked.

We suffered through another 15 minutes of petulant toying with the spoons before finally declaring the challenge to be over. We rose from the table, the still-full bowls mocking my bleeding tongue. A collective groan from the crowd did nothing to boost our injured egos. Limping home, I swore I'd never want to eat ice cream ever again. Or at least not for a couple of days.

My friend and I now have another story to add to the growing library of Remember That One Time. And I love him deeply for it.

Snap. Smoooooth. Tuck. -- day 201

Snap. Smoooooth. Tuck.

They say most folk don't end up in the job they went to school for. I say, "What's the point of school, then?" I actually heard one professional teacher explain that school was to help kids learn how to learn.

Learn how to learn? Didn't you come out of the womb not really knowing anything, and have to learn how to eat, talk, walk, and use a toilet? How did you learn to do all of that without going to school? Is there a secret prebirth school that you attend that teaches you how to learn the preliminary skills to learning that a school can only help perfect?

I am not here to knock school. I went to some really great schools in my lifetime, and made some really great friends as a result. I have been exposed to public, private, parochial, homeschool, christian school, and charter school. I've worn uniforms and had dress codes. I've had free dress Fridays, and half day Fridays. I've had field trips to art museums, working farms, and once to night skiing on Mt Hood. My point is: I've seen a lot of different kinds of schools. In all that time, I think the two biggest lessons that school taught me is that people are jerks, and my parents are the best teachers that I've ever met.

Confucius and Marc Anthony are both credited with the idea that if you find something that you love to do, you'll never have to work a day in your life, or some such. And I have to disagree. Sometimes the pressure of doing something that you love for money ends up killing the dream that you had to begin with. I think the secret to being happy is not trying to get someone to pay you to do something you love, but to find something that you love to do and do it for free. Do it with friends, teach other people how to do it. Surround yourself in it, and let it define you. Be what you love, and the work that you have to do to pay for it won't really seem that bad.

Right now, I'm working at a job that some would say is a waste of my talents. But they are missing the point: I am not my job. I am all of the things that I do when I'm not working. The job just allows me to pursue the other things that I want to do in life. I also fold a mean hospital corner.

My parents are wonderful teachers, and one of the greatest lessons that they taught me was to be an awesome parent. So, that's what I'm doing. Teaching my little one to be authentic, and unapologetically herself. Hoping that she continues to love herself regardless of what other people say and do, or what they think of her. Show her that if she shines her light bright enough, she can change the world.

Meanwhile, I will snap, smooth, and tuck.

The Adventure Awakens -- Day 189

Today is my third day working, and it's my day off. I mean, I'm not working today, but I'm officially back to work, as of this week.

We arrived Sunday afternoon and got settled into our site. We met a few people from the staff, as well as some long-term campers. Most of the staff has only been here a couple of weeks, and there is a small group of folks that have been here about a year. We really vibe with the crew, and I think we're going to have a marvelous time here for the summer.

All of our preparation, and learning how to RV over the past six months (which really has felt like a year), has brought us to this point. This was a goal line, of sorts. The finish line. Time to relax and enjoy our accomplishment!

Except that we are now working full-time, five days a week, off on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

"Out of the flying van into the campfire." ~ Sensei of Truth

This place is truly gorgeous. The sheer enormity of these wooden giants is difficult to capture with pen or lens. Words like "vast" and "giant" get bandied about as to lose all significance. To stand beneath these gentle souls and tilt your head back until your spine protests is like a tiny child looking up at a parent. But the parent is actually 400 feet tall and 1200 years old. Zoe and Anya walked THROUGH the base of one of the trees. Not the commercially hollowed out desecrations, but a genuine giant that had survived many forest fires, one of which opened up a passage at the base of the trunk. I'm pretty sure if Gandalf had THESE Ents on his side, that battle would have gone a bit differently.

Another teacher of great wisdom nearby is the Eel River. Deep enough to enjoy a swim in, but cold enough to make you regret that decision immediately. Lord Eel has deposited a treasure trove of round river rocks, some of which defy classification.

To reach the river from the campground, one must descend the River Trail. A winding 350-yard path that ensures you will carefully consider a return visit, and you will also appreciate the resting benches that are strategically placed along the way.

The walk down persuades you to spend a bit of time with the river, if only because you're dreading the walk back up. Ascending the hill didn't quite take me 127 hours, and I do have all my limbs intact, but I'm pretty sure there is plenty of fodder for an Oscar-worthy film of the man-vs-nature variety. My single-minded plodding was motivated by the realization that there was no food down by the river, and I'll be damned if I'm going to die of starvation because I can't climb a planned hiking trail.

Found out from the staff the next day that there is actually a paved river access road a few feet farther down the river, and they usually drive the 4-wheeler down there. Lazy.

Now that I've survived that ordeal, I'm fairly certain that we can make it through anything, including this summer long hiatus from LTE service (thanks for the memories, Sprint) and the fact that the nearest shopping district is 80 miles away. And it's not that we're getting rid of our phones, we just can't use our unlimited Sprint internet because the nearest coverage is something like 200 miles away. And when I say shopping district, it's where CostCo, Walmart, Winco is. There are grocery stores closer, but they are significantly more expensive. Also worth noting, we have been encouraged to leave our rig here, parked, for the entirety of our stay. There will not be a weekly Fezzik trip to the grocery store. We're relying on our new-found friends and Amazon for our grocery needs. Having said that, if you want to send us a block of cheese, our address is:

Cheo Jackson
75000 Highway 101
Leggett, CA 95585-8910

"Live life as though everything is rigged in your favor." ~ Rumi

Facing these odds, we know that we are going to be ok. Every change requires adjustment, and flexibility is what allows you to bend and not break. Flexibility can be increased by stretching. Stretching is most effective on warm muscles, after exercise. Looks like we're going to be in really great shape!