Inside out cabin

March 20, 2014 2 Comments

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Boulder, Colorado

The world whizzed by the bus window in a fog, snow climbing the glass until all was crystallised. Boulder was quiet, hands were gloved. We wandered down the shopping strip, finally tempted in by a family pizza place, pangs of home and Lygon Street: checked tablecloths and posters from the homeland. Sufficiently warmed and bellies full of pizza and cannelloni we braved the cold and caught a bus. A lady I could barely understand complimented my boots and then said she was 36 and had only just been able to get a pair of Australian Uggs. Now seated another lady asked me where I got my bag and then began to rant about how one day we would be able to teleport because we are all made out of atoms and alien visitors, the whole bus starred at their laps with smiles threatening to break into laughs. Public transport never fails to be diverting.

We landed at the bottom of a hill that went up and up, we took Reuben’s advice and thumbed a lift, he said if you can safely hitchhike anywhere it’s Boulder. A lady stopped straightaway, once again we were blown away with the generosity of strangers as she took us right to our door, she said she had been in our position before and had just been desperate for someone to help her out.

Who would have thought the first sign of spring we’d see would be inside a house. What seemed like an ordinary cabin was another world. A tree towering into a daylit courtyard, timber shingles and a stairway stepping around the stoned room and daffodils sprouting from crevices. I made friends with the cat, a purring affectionate feline who was served snow in a espresso cup and lapped it up. Our hosts were English climate scientists, researching climate change. Climate modelling from 9-5, the rest of the time scrambling, hiking, trail running, mountain biking, skiing; Dylan was right at home in Boulder.

Recipes, Travel

Watercourse & fairy lights

March 19, 2014 No Comments

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Denver, Colorado

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Yesterday’s sunshine vanished and a grey day swept in, I felt restless. The city had been fun for a day, but now I was keen to move on, we loved the airbnb, but they had their lives to live and their babies cough was worsening. Out of the suburbs in the process of being gentrified through the industrial district, to the river, bare branches and patrolling geese. Dylan ran, I wandered long.

A lunch of giant salad at The Market at Larimer Square and a deep fried donut to offset our health points. Across the road a homeless man had incongruously taken up residence underneath a giant hippopotamus sculpture. We wandered through the burbs, from a row house music blasted, packs of primary school kids were shepherded by young teachers and there was that whiff of weed on the breeze.

Warm sunbeams kissed the timber shingles of the neighbouring house as we waited for Sam and Laina to pick us up for a farewell meal, goodbye Denver and goodbye the last of the earthship crew. As we drove street art whizzed by vibrant in the setting sun. While we waited for a table at Watercourse a row of smiling Muslim refugees sat in a row before us, a beaming western woman informed us part of the profit from our meal would support their charity. Would these lovely ladies have to sit smiling in the entry all night? To their left a mural of floppy bunnies and ravens presided over the scene, lights were ensconced in fitting of fragile paper scales. The food was delicious, drinks were free due to slow service, desert was vegan mousse. Then we ended the night on a high Our mutual Friend, chatting, laughing under fairy lights floating in the dark sky.

Garden, Travel

Urban Farm, Denver

March 18, 2014 No Comments

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Denver, Colorado

when it seemed like everything was coming apart at the seams it pulled itself back together in an unexpectedly delightful new form. The night before had been perhaps our most stressful of the trip so far, half way to Denver from the Dunes Sam got a call from his girlfriend who had been at the hospital with a fever of 104F and what later she later suspected was swine flu. She was too sick to have us stay and with 4 o’clock looming in a new city we weren’t sure what to do. Dylan had a badly hurting foot from hiking the dunes and we were all rather dejected thinking his running race was over before it began.

We pulled into the local Lone Pine public library for precious internet. It was a long shot with so little notice but we thought we’d give airbnb a go before we settled for the hostel. We found the perfect one with a veggie garden as one of the photos, then after applying we just drove in that direction, hoping for an affirmative. On the highway we got it, relief. we didn’t know how lucky we were, on admittance to their sweet little home, we were greeted with such warmth by Ali and Reuben that it brought grins to our travel weary bones. They provided Dylan with an icepack and by morning even that niggle had retreated to a safe stiffness.

That morning the light shone softly, illuminating little vignettes: a happily playing baby with hair glowing red, a cuddly Australian Shepherd X that demanded attention 24/7 and got it from us, a grey cat silhouetted against the window, a smartly dressed in shades of blue and yellow.

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We realised we were amongst kindred spirits as we chatted about social and environmental sustainability and Train Running (eyes lit up all round on that one). Reuben’s work as a social worker/urban farmer lead to his passionate involvement in using school land in Denver as urban farms for education and an outlet for disadvantaged students. Ali taught primary students via correspondence and they both had a fulltime job keeping sweet little Wendall in check.

We headed off into a gorgeous pre-spring day with directions to the trendy side of town. Drawn like magnets to hipster hangouts we had brunch at Crema where we sat opposite a red headed dude dressed in basketball gear from hed to foot in that ironic way that was all too familiar. However, what would be vaguely annoying back home was comforting as the post Earthship blues began dripping into my subconscious, only to fully reveal themselves days later on top of a mountain.

We wandered into the city, then headed back down Larimer Street to meet our airbnb family sweetly met us to unlock the sustainability centre where Reuben volunteer. While we waited we spied a cute looking outdoor gear shop, it was closed, son we stickybeaked through the window Topo Designs. A face appeared and were ushered in by a pretty, athletic girl. She gave us the low down, made in Colorado with love, we didn’t escape without setting down a pretty penny, Dylan was hiking hipsterfied and I had a limited addition Woolrich/Topo designs bag, that i hugged to me like a kid with a favourite soft toy. It’s hard to find anything not made in China right? And it will last forever right? And shiny things right…

Reuben unlocked the gates to the Sustainability Park and gave us a tour. It was like seeing CERES in its early days, exciting new enviro ideas sprouting up on a vacant lot. One section was vegetable garden plots where disadvantaged kids grew produce to sell, another area was where a lady on government assistance was trying to live off for a year, there were bees and a whole array of eco building examples. So inspiring and so much fun, I wished I could stay to make a mini project happen there.

Walking home in golden dusk I felt a surge of happiness, but then a tinge of sadness that we would have to leave these new friends behind. We left them at a microbrewery and raced the clock to the vegan grocery they recommended. We got there after closing but the owner was pretty chill and actually seemed to enjoy having a chat. He said that with his niche market he wasn’t threatened by big chains like Wholefoods or Trader Joe’s and that he was actually moving his store closer to them to benefit from their spillover as there were speciality products the big names would not bother to sell. Apparently they give loans to small local food producers and only have something like a 9 month exclusive contract as well. Hmm…in Australia we could perhaps benefit from the competition as the Woolworths/Coles duopoly is out of control.

The day ended sharing in the Ali, Reuben and Wendall’s family meal. Delicious quinoa salad and homemade soup. We felt so welcomed in this foreign land, the kindness of strangers really can turn a good experience into a great one. Have little acts of kindness transformed ordinary places into special ones?

Travel

The Great Sand Dunes

March 17, 2014 2 Comments

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The Great Sand Dunes National Park, Colorado

As we crossed into Colorado the snow began to fall as we cruised past Elk the sky began to disappear, we didn’t even realise the land was crowned with mountains, the lines on the road had vanished under white. At 3 minutes past six the Great Sand Dunes National Park entry was unmaned and the visitor’s centre closed, we decided in this empty white space we would risk some stealth camping. The spot we chose was sheltered, there was an air of comedy about the whole situation, three hikers in the snow setting up tents on a stage with an ampitheatre of wooden benches rising before us, perhaps there would be an audience of squirrels and black bears watching us slumber. Our tiny tent next to Sam’s enormous 6 maner with room for all to stand.

We cooked our meal down the path in a illuminated information booth wary of the black bear warning. Cocktails and beer from a growler kept us in a false warmth whilst Dylan cooked. I made my first snowman under Sam’s watchful American gaze, starting with a small snowball then rolling it around in powder, it grew and grew. When I was finished Sam christened my snowman unworthy, it was really snowing in earnest; I was too lazy to improve upon it.

We then fled to the truck to eat, passing Sam’s deflated tent on the way through, he would be sleeping in the car that night. The path was illuminated by little solar powered lights, glowing feebly under a layer of snow, our footfalls crunched and crackled.

We awoke to a new world, blue sky on trees we had not even known were feet in front of us. then i turned and saw the dunes, incongruous next to snow capped mountains. I felt lucky to see it at this time of year when few would have made the journey opting for a warmer season.

When we made the climb every footstep revealed a layer cake of sand and snow, wind blowing layer over layer. Scratching what appeared to be brownish sand revealed a gash of white. Hiking poles in hand we played like children writing messages and kicking powder in the air. There were less than a dozen of us on the dunes, the sun shone brilliantly and the wind only blew fearsly at the summit.

Once at the top we rolled and ran down the slope, taking it three times fast than up. We passed a whole convoy of dog’s and their owners on the way down, jackets done up snugly. Then a peanutbutter and “jelly” wrap at the picnic area before undertaking the massive drive to Denver.

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