UP CLOSE AND BEARSONAL

Finally, the long-promised star story of my trip thus far...

After an uneventful night at Quickmunk, I woke and began planning my first full day in Shenendoah. After cross-referencing three different travel guides and maps, I decided on doing a waterfall hike, listed as a "don't-miss" in all my sources. My hopes fell, however, as I pulled into the parking lot. It was packed, and a pair of whiny kids sat at the trailhead yelling to each car that pulled in, "Turn aroooound! Dooooon't go! it's toooo haaaaaaaaaard." Their father stood by, all but encouraging his childrens' public service announcements. He, too, warned an older couple approaching the trailhead of the perils they were about to encounter. He had a thick accent; I can't place it, but if I had to guess I'd say Transylvania. He had this vampire-chuckle going on too (like Count Chocula): "Dent go dar, ah. ah. ah. On scale of ten I vuld rate it meybey eight, ah. ah. ah." What made it all the more funny was the fact he was wearing a shirt that read 'SHENENDOAH: The Mountains Are Calling, I Must Hike'. I ignored them, but sat in my car to gather my things and watched as people emerged from the trailhead in the woods sweaty and complaining. I would have been concerned, but from the looks of it, most of these people probably get sweaty and complain crossing a grocery store parking lot. In fact, it looked a lot like a Disneyland on a summer weekend to me. Ugh.

All this led to my decision to unpack some stuff from my backpack to make it lighter, taking out things I wouldn't need on a hike in Disneyland: stuff like my cannister of trusty ol' bear spray.

I passed through the gauntlet of loud, lazy kids and found myself on a beautiful little path following a creek down the hillside. Ok, so it was a little steep, but it definitely didn't warrant the warnings. It took about ten minutes to get to the waterfall, and there were dozens of families and hikers playing in the water, taking pictures, and having lunch. It was nice, but not worth lingering around by myself. I had budgeted way more time for this hike, so instead of turning around, I followed a fire road at the base of the waterfall to another, smaller trailhead called Rose Creek Falls.

It was a gorgeous day, and Shenendoah was blissfully green. The trail followed alongside a bubbling little creek, with little waterfalls and pools along the way. I hadn't seen anyone on the trail for a good ten minutes when I ran into a couple of hikers coming my direction. We passed, smiling, and said hi and something about the weather. I turned to keep going, but as an afterthought, the woman turned and said "oh, by the way, we saw a momma bear and her cubs up there!" Oh crap. I asked them if I should turn around, but they waved it off, saying it was way far, and they were probably gone by now. They weren't concerned, so I pressed on, although I was enjoying the scenery a tiny bit less now. When I ran into two more hikers a bit later, they hadn't seen the bears, but said they had been talking so loud it probably got scared away. "Just make a lot of noise" they suggested. I kind of pointed out I didn't really have anyone to talk to...(um, duh?!), and they suggested in that case, I should hike with a bell. Thaaaanks. I'll just go pick one up at the....oh yeah, that's right. We're in the middle of the forest, I have no way of obtaining a bell unless I find one miraculously on the trail, which would probably indicated the previous owner was eaten by a bear anyway. I digress.

The problem was averted when I remembered my car keys have an emergency whistle on them. (A stocking-stuffer xmas present from years ago, when, at the time, I thought "Random. Thanks Mom. I'll stick this in a drawer and never use it." A word of advice to all 13 year olds who get emergency whistles instead of lipgloss in your stockings: keep it. You very well might need it in 11 years or so.) I took to alternately jingling my keys like a zookeeper, and lightly blowing on the whistle to make some noise. I passed more families, saw beautiful waterfalls, plants, and deer taking sips from the creek. It was so glorious. On a whim, I decided I needed to take a swim in one of the deep pools. I hiked off the trail down to the beach, and watched the trail. I hadn't seen anyone pass in 20 minutes or so, so I did a quick undie-dip. It was so perfectly refreshing. I wanted to stay, but the bear thing was still sort of on the back of my mind and I didn't really feel like getting caught in my undies by passerby. I threw on my shorts, took a quick picture to capture the moment, and hiked back up to the trail.

I was in this blissful solo-hiking-undie-dipping-nature-loving state of mind hiking back up the trail, shaking my keys occasionally in an absent-minded sort of way. I passed a couple with two golden retrievers, and lazily thinking the dogs would definitely have made enough noise to scare stuff away, I stopped my jingling for a bit and continued on.

You know when something happens and you have a great big burst of adrenaline and then later you really can't recall what happened exactly? I can't quite recall whether I actually ran into bear cub or whether it ran into me or out in front of me, but I suddenly found myself nose-to-nose with a bear cub. My thought process was something like this:

1. BEAR!
2. It's a baaaybeeeee how cuuuuuute!!
3. WHERE THE F IS IT'S MOMMY?
4. Oh, my god, it's so cuuuuuuuuute up close! Look at his widdle nose...

[At this point, the baby recovers from its shock and scales the nearest tree, peering down at me fearfully]

5. MOTHER BEARS ARE EXTREMELY AGGRESSIVE ESPECIALLY IF THEY FEEL YOU HAVE FRIGHTENED THEIR BABIES UP TREES.
6. Tina, you idiot, idiot idiot. YOU TOOK YOUR BEAR SPRAY OUT OF YOUR PACK BEFORE THIS HIKE.

7. I HAVE A GOOD CHANCE OF DYING VERY SOON.


I backed away slowly, beginning to jingle my keys and lowly blowing on my whistle (Will a louder noise alert the mom that I'm here if she hasn't noticed yet? or scare her away?) I'm not sure what possessed me to do what I did next, but as I backed away, I took out my camera and filmed myself. A last record if I die, perhaps? If I survive, proof I saw a bear? I think I just really needed to talk it out, and needed something to talk to.

The clip now makes me laugh really hard. I call it my "Bear Ditch Project." (yeah, rhymes with Blair witch...in case you didn't catch it...) The subtitle is "What My Face Looks Like When I'm Scared Shitless" Because really, you don't ever make that face in the mirror.

I insist that I'm filming the bear looking at me, but all you can see is green blur of trees because my hands are shaking so hard. Also, I say there are two bear cubs in the clip. Either I was seeing double, or my memory is already failing me. hmmm....




(Sorry it's sideways, I've tried multiple times and failed to turn it the right way. Why didn't i think to film the right way at the time?! damn.)



I ended up waiting a good ways down the trail until somebody else came along, and I explained, calmly, I had just run into a bear. As my luck would have it, this hiker did not speak English. I had to mime out "bear" (claw hands, teeth bared), and he was still pretty unimpressed. I ended up following the hiker back up, and there were no signs of the bear. I'm sure he thought I was insane.

OH, SHENENDOAH

In planning out the next stages of my trip in my safe haven in Maryland, I decided I needed a break from cities for awhile. I decided to get as far away from killer crosswalks and pricey street snacks as I could--and head for the largest swatch of green on my roadmap, which turned out to be Shenendoah National Park. I did eventually come to realize that perhaps Shenendoah isn't quite as remote as I had thought (it is home to "Skyline Drive"; you can actually motor through the whole park, stay in swank lodgings, and pretty much forgo the wilderness experience if you like) but it was definitely a step in the right direction.

I camped in Matthew's Arm campgrounds the first night, although I never did find out why it was called that. Due to the positive feedback to my renaming the Yellowstone spot Elk Butt, I renamed this particular site "Quickmunk", for my speedy little striped friends who made frequent laps around the car and picnic table at will. I went for an uneventful hike upon establishing my set up, wandering down one trail head that later linked to a fire road. Although there were plenty of cars and people at the campsite, I didn't see a single soul on the trail. When I hiked back into the campsite the back way, I turned and realized the 4 foot wide, cleared and maintained trail was labeled "backcountry". Hmm.

I had some mealtime entertainment back at camp, as a rowdy family of four set up a temporary picnic at the site next to Quickmunk. It was something out of a cartoon, with two hyperactive boys, a dad in an old tank top undershirt, a mom with a serious mullet, and a well-fed rottweiler, who was promptly tied to the nearest tree as mom passed out buckets of fried chicken. They first caught my attention when one of the boys yelled "duuuuuuuuuurrng, lookit THIS one!" and triumphantly held up an apparently interestingly-shaped chicken nugget. The other boy wasted no time in knocking it out of his hand and the doomed nugget was then chucked under the table. Mom witnessed this and began to cuss the boys out for attracting bears (my ears perked up at this and I realized this family fun may indeed result in attracting danger to Quickmunk. I began to ponder whether the rottweiler was a plus after all?) The boys then turned their attention to the dog, narrating its bodily functions: "Maaaaaam, Brandy's whizzing on the leash! Brandy's whizzing on the tree! Brandy's whizzing again!" I settled into my dinner, preparing for a long night of Brandy-whizzing and chicken-flinging, but luckily once the food was gone, the family packed up and drove on.

MARYLAND: THE OASIS

I have to admit I was still wiping tears away as I drove out of DC with my broken window whistling on the highway. I am so grateful and lucky for Theresa, one of my mom's best friends, and her family who live in nearby Maryland for offering me a safe haven after the break in. I couldn't have asked for anything more; big hugs, hot shower, a delicious homemade dinner (with a delicious desert to top it off!--see left), and a safe driveway to park the car. They even covered my window overnight to keep animals from getting in (I never would have thought of that; I'm sure if it was up to me I'd be road tripping with a family of racoons riding shotgun).

The next morning was fix-it day. As we all know, when it rains it pours, and my cell phone decided now would be an excellent time to go on the fritz. It would only function on speakerphone mode, which is a little rude if you ask me. I managed to contact the broken-window-glass-guy who agreed to come out to the house and replace the window there, and in the meanwhile Theresa and I went out in search of a new phone. Anyone who accompanies another person while shopping for a cell phone is a saint. Especially when that person has a debilitating case of "I-hate-shopping-for-electronics-and-am-indecisive-on-top-of-that" syndrome. Thank you, Theresa.

The next fix-it was my ukulele. I realize that I neglected to report during the intense heat of the farm in Illinois, one of my uke strings popped right off! I had, up until this point, taken a hiatus from uke-ing. Luckily my gracious guardian angel host family took me to a music shop and I was able to get it re-strung! (Although this wasn't without obstacles either; the first shop we tried laughed at my "little guitar"...they had never seen a ukulele before!)

I ended up spending a few days in Maryland. We gardened, went for walks, played intense domino games, and did sight-seeing at Fort McHenry and Baltimore. I even learned how to eat blue crabs! (see right, weilding tools of the trade...) I can't possibly describe how lovely this visit was. In retrospect, I realize I was actually quite lucky to have my window broken in the first place, or I may not have gotten to spend this time with such a great family.

DC: THE TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY

Woke up feeling pretty over the city, but I had planned to be in the capital for Independence Day (it seemed so appropriate for my American road trip), so I decided to grit it out for a couple more days. I had to move my car in the morning (DC has weird parking laws), so I found a place several blocks away that seemed good in front of a Children’s Health Center with a security guard out front. I set off trying to get in a better city mood, trying to find something that didn’t include museums or spending money.

After passing several embassies (can I technically say I was on Chilean and Peruvian soil today?), I stumbled upon the National Geographic Museum. I figured a free-admission air-conditioned museum is better than wandering aimlessly in the heat, so I explored it a bit. One room with lots of flashy pictures of lions and....that’s about it. Disappointing!

I vaguely remembered seeing posters for a folk-like festival on the Mall, so I hiked down to check it out. Lots of food vendors and music tents, looked pretty fun! I sat down and watched a Puerto Rican band for awhile, and during one of their most lively songs, the old man next to me asked me to dance! Unfortunately, he had no idea how to dance, but he had waited until the last minute of the song to ask me, so the awkward step-hopping he called salsa was very brief.

My mood was starting to lift, and I had just wandered into a tent full of Cuban music when I got a phone call.

The worst thing about a police officer calling you is that they always ask you right off the bat, “how are you today?” when they know they’re about to ruin your day. They told me my vehicle had been broken into and that I needed to come right away.

Thing was, I was all the way down at the Mall and my car was like 26 blocks away. I had no cash on me for a taxi, and no clue how to use the metro or the bus system. There are no Wells Fargo banks in DC, and I couldn’t figure out how to use my card in the other banks’ ATMs. The security guard from across the street had found my bags strewn in the middle of the street, and was holding them for me in his office, but got off work in 15 minutes and really wanted to go, so he kept on calling me and asking where I was. I held it together for about 10 minutes of this, but ended up trying to run the 26 blocks, sobbing, on my phone telling the guy I’d be right there, and stopping at every ATM I came across trying to get cash. It’s actually kind of funny in retrospect, I must have looked like a lunatic. Factoring in the city crosswalk situation didn’t help, and at one point, when an SUV decided to take aim for a large group of pedestrians of which I was a part of, I was so angry I walked right in front of the bumper, crying, with one hand holding my cell phone and one hand held up with my palm out, the universal STOP signal. The driver was so surprised, he and his passenger started mocking me, holding their palms back out to me, and I gave them attitude right back, pointing angrily to the WALK signal. It was all I could do not to try to dent their hood. In retrospect, I wish I did.

When I finally realized I could not run the entire way without getting a taxi, I actually went into a bank and asked for help getting cash. Lame, but I seriously needed help!
With my cash, I hailed a taxi and got to my car. Broken glass was everywhere, and all my bags had been opened and rifled through, but nothing had been taken!! I bet they were pretty disappointed, only finding a backpack full of books, a bag of size seven hiking boots, a bag of feminine hygiene products, and a glovebox with nothing but a can of bear spray (I really wish I could have seen their reaction to that!!) I was still really upset and SUPER over the city at this point, so I went back to Jessica’s, grabbed all the stuff the thieves WISH they’d gotten (my laptop etc), and headed to Baltimore, broken window and all, where my mom’s good friend Theresa lives. Game over, DC.

DC Day 4: Change of Headquarters

Unfortunately, Rachel and I had terrible timing, and she had to fly home for the 4th of July. I decided to transfer my city headquarters to my good friend Jessica’s apartment, who lived in a slightly different place in the city. The timing worked out that I left Rachel’s in the morning and was due at Jessica’s in the evening, so I had another day to sightsee on my own, only this time I didn’t have a secure place to leave my valuables. I’ve been told multiple times that it is a fact my car will get broken into, so I won’t leave anything super expensive or irreplaceable in the matrix. Without an apartment to leave my laptop and gps system in, I had to pack them around the city. Let me tell you, my trusty macbook pro gets heavy FAST. And my “ergonomic” computer pack is anything but. Factor in a super-hot city day, and you get a painful, sweaty, and exhausted trekker.

That evening, I was able to move the Matrix in front of Jessica’s apartment and accompanied her and her roommate to a medical-school dinner party. I’d say about 90% of the vocabulary they used went straight over my head (Yeah, I’ve got O.B. in the A.M. with G.L.S. and then H.T.Y. later....) (okay, I made that up, but that’s what it sounded like!) Fun none-the-less, and the food was good. Thanks J-Ro!

DC: Day 3

I went back for Smithsonian museums, round two. This time, I braved the metro all by myself! I have come to the (surely unfair and biased) conclusion that people in DC like to talk to themselves, judging solely on my fellow passengers: a man sang along with his ipod at full volume, and a professor (?) grading papers (?) had an ongoing conversation with herself. Innnteresting.

First, I explored the Museum of the American Indian, which was incredible. The architecture and exhibition design was equally as impressive as the artifacts that were on display. Next, I made it over to the Hirshhorn museum, which housed a variety of sculptures and modern art. One of the artists shipped glass boxes to himself within the standard fed-ex cardboard boxes, and displayed the resulting broken glass. Unfortunately, the general public didn’t seem to recognize this as a piece of sculpture (it did honestly look like the curators accidentally forgot their packages in the middle of the floor that morning), and kept walking too close to the art, continuously setting off the security sensor. A lovely soundtrack to my perusing...At this point the sky opened up into a full-on downpour, and I was stuck in the museum a bit longer than I had planned for, as I didn’t think in the 90 degree heat that morning to pack and umbrella. At right: the most alarming sculpture: a giant disgruntled nude man (stranger included in shot for scale).

After I toured the Museum of African Art and the Freer gallery, I did a quick look-see into the Smithsonian Castle and then called it quits. After eight museums in two days, I had to admit museum burnout.

DC: Adventures in the Big City

DC, Day 1

After a delicious breakfast of gluten-free blueberry muffins, Rachel took me to go see the sights. She guided me through the metro, and we walked along the National mall to see the Washington monument, the WWII memorial, the Lincoln memorial, and the white house. It was fun to see everything in real life (as you may have heard, the white house is a lot smaller than you’d expect. Still really cool, though.) Am including another one of my favorite terrible landmark shots: We asked a passerby to take a pic with us in front of the Washington Monument (see right...thanks, dude. I'm sure Rach appreciates her new hair accessory). Later, like true city girls, we had sushi for dinner.

DC, Day 2

Took the bus with Rachel to her work and she pointed me in the direction of the Smithsonian museums. Walking from the bus stop, I quickly discovered that to step into a crosswalk when the walk sign is on is to take your life into your own hands. Cars don’t stop. Ever. In fact, they will honk at YOU, leaning out the window, flipping you off and cussing at you for the very AUDACITY you had to cross the street at the right time. (Can you tell I’m extremely disturbed by this custom?) I darted like a rabbit across every street I came to, hoping I wouldn’t be picked off by the SUV that couldn’t wait 15 seconds for the light to change. Having escaped with my life, I started my sightseeing with the Museum of American History, spending a few hours looking at all kinds of artifacts, from serious and significant (the original Star-Spangled Banner) to serious and creepy (the bloodstained cuff of the actress who held Lincoln after he was shot) to just plain random (the original Kermit the frog. oh, Kermie!!). At left: Judy Garland's ruby slippers.

Ate a boiled egg and a granola bar on my way to the National Museum of Art. (No way was I going to spring for the $10 hot dogs or ice cream that were being hawked along the way!) These museums are just so vast that I didn’t even bother getting a map. My plan of action was as follows: wander in a vaguely left-and-back direction, then wander back in a right-front-ish kind of way. Saw pre-Renaissance Italian art, classic Dutch paintings, and a lot of Impressionists. Sorry, am about to art-geek out on everyone, but I saw: Gauguins, Vermeers, Cassats, Goyas, Winslow Homers, Van Goghs, the fauves, It was a lot of art to absorb, and that was only the West building! Crossed over to the East building, and was promptly reprimanded for sipping my water bottle in the lobby. (My bad, I might have spilled filtered water onto your lobby floor.) Visited my college (paper) buddies Warhol, Thiebauld, Matisse, Katz, Mondrian, Caulder, and Pollock.

After this artfest, I darted my way a few blocks up and found the National Portrait Gallery. Equally amazing. Could spend years in the museums here, but Rachel was about to get off work and happy hour was calling...