Today I woke up to 41 degrees in the van…who knows what it is outside. With everything we need in our little capsule of steel and rubber, there’s no big rush to go outside and find out.
The sun is making its way into the sky, creeping slowly from behind the snow capped peeks, but has yet to shine on the opposing peeks across the river valley.
Our camp last night was right beside the Matanuska River, surrounded by Alders, sporting their new yellow fall colors, Drayas, also in showy white tops, and Fireweed that has lost its towers of red flowers and turned to tangled white silky seedpods. The mountains surrounding this valley are topped with snow from the thunder storms 2 nights ago, accenting the harsh, craggy peeks.
Yesterday, we drove up from Ninilchik to the Russian River Ferry crossing and joined the throngs of fisher people hoping to catch a nice coho salmon, or at least hook into one of the giant red sockeye on the Kenai River. These fish are huge! As your standing in the water, these fish are lined up, heading upstream. Every now and then, one will breech the surface slowly or jump out of the river all together. With your concentration on your line and indicator, this is quite alarming at first, but soon becomes the norm and you settle in to the rhythm of casting.
It’s time to begin our month long procession east then south, out of Alaska, into Canada, and finally, the lower 48. Time to say good-bye to the wildness of this beautiful land, where it is easy to forget your worries, clear your mind, and refresh your inner most being. To the fresh, crisp, cool air, the bears, moose, squirrels, seagulls ravens and bald eagles, all etched firmly into my mind, a sorrowful good-bye. A fond farewell to the mountains and glaciers, turquoise rivers and milky white glacial streams and waterfalls, thousands of lakes and fiords. To leave behind the thousands of miles of pot-holed, wavy, and frost heaved roads of dirt and tar.
Although the journey has not ended just yet…we’ve traveled almost 6,000 miles since Salt Lake City. We’ve driven on almost every road in Alaska, been from the Continental divide (Antigun Pass) to Lands End (Homer). We’ve traveled by ferry along the Inside Passage between Juneau, Skagway and Haines. Took a wild ride down the Tatshinini and Alsek Rivers, played with icebergs and bergy-bits. We’ve had our share of bear encounters, some too close for comfort. I’d say it’s been a wild and encompassing ride for sure with still more to come.
We are flying at 12000’ above the ice choked mountain tops of Glacier Bay, Alaska. Whenever the clouds part, we all crane our necks looking for a small airplane. The search continues today for the missing pilot and we have become part of the search, as anyone flying today.
We found out the rest of the story today from our taxi driver, Jax. She explained how loved and revered these 3 people were, an integral part of the community here in SE Alaska. Samuel, or Sam, was a seasoned pilot that loved the community and flying. Tanya and Hans, also in the missing plane, were also stand up members of the community. Hans provided air transportation to rafting companies, anglers, hunters and commuting people to other bigger cities around SE Alaska.
According to our taxi driver, the three had just attended a wedding in Haines and were on their way back to Yukatat when the plane went missing off radar around the Fairweather Range, a location of vast mountains and glaciers, rugged and beautiful.
Sam used to play Uncle Sam in Haines’ 4th of July parade. Hans and Tanya had been together forever and were integral members of this small tight knit community. The admiration and sadness, coming through Jax’s voice as she recanted memories. The entire atmosphere of Juneau, Haines, Yukatat and Dry Bay, has grown solemn as the search was called off due to bad weather. Planes have been grounded as a fog and rain blanket the coastal area again.
This weekend is the county fair in Haines. I’m sure that the revelry will be quelled by the loss of these three.
I slept well last night even though I had some butterflies starting. 6:30am was our wake up time but neither of us made it that far. I woke up with a bit of a nervous stomach and it took a while for me to choke down some food but eventually I had talked enough that I began to settle down.
We woke to some sunny skies with just a hint of dark clouds draped high in the mountains. It seemed we had caught a break in the weather. At around 9am, we all piled in the van and set off for the river. The van ride took about an hour and a half, at best guess, since I retired my Apple Watch last night. The scenery was amazing…as always. We crossed the border from Alaska back into the Yukon about 45 miles from Haines.
It’s hard to put words to the depths of the greens covering the mountain sides. When the sun hits the trees the mountains glitter like big green emeralds surrounded in the most true blue sky and skillfully formed white clouds. Snow is draped in the crevasses like garlands on a tree. A wide river valley full of cobble stones and glacier melt full of streams and big rivers, lies between the road we are on and the mountain range.
The rain started again. In the distant canyon, a huge rainbow appeared as the sheets of rain funneled down from the mountain tops. We all took it as a sign. For the next half hour we drove in and out of the rain showers until the sun shown through the last of the black heavy clouds. Perhaps the rainbow was a sign.
We cut off on a steep, muddy dirt road and finally arrived at the river…but not before a bear decided to mozie on down the road in front of us. He reminded me of Gandaulf as he shook his boodie as he walked down the road like a runway model shaking his ass.
Arriving at the river, the guides were busily rigging the rafts. We were suited up, given a life jacket and a paddle, given the safety protocol talk and we were assigned boats and set off.
We were provided with dry paddle suits, top and bottoms, and top quality. The boats were 18’ NRS boats with extra large tubes. Two to a boat plus a guide. We got Carly the only woman guide. Queer thing, the participants are all women! Not planned in any way. All have experience on rivers all over the world, like Chris and I.
Over all, the river was gorgeous! Fast moving current propelled by fast glacier and snow melt. The rapids were quite plentiful, but we deliberately missed the wave trains as much as possible. The first wave that broke over the boat into my lap and down my dry suit was a quick and cold reminder why. The river runs in the high 30s to 40 degrees Fahrenheit. “When the wind blows,” as Andy, the lead guide said, “it’s like a fan blowing over an ice cube.”
Our first camp is situated on a stone bar on the right side of the river. The sun plays games with us and our comfort level. When it is out, it warms up quickly, so you take off a layer, then the wind blows off the river and you put a layer on. Hell, I’d had already met my fitness goals just from wardrobe changes. Today was a good trial for how to layer and how difficult it is to take one off or put one on.
It’s been 12 days since we left Salt Lake City. Twelve days of constant driving, sleeping, hiking and driving some more. Yesterday, we crossed from Canada into Alaska. The grandeur of the views before us just kept getting more and more grand as we pushed through the rolling hills, and back to the Great Northern Rocky Mountains.
White Pass was a long mountainous pass with switchbacks and craggy glacier choked peaks jutting up from the valleys…with rivers flowing out of these behemoths in cascading waterfalls. Scattered snow melt lakes dotted the landscape, each with its own color of blue, green or milky white. The subalpine trees sprung up from rocky out crops and random high spots, stunted by the harsh winter months and many feet of snow. Small creatures darted from tree to tree, outcropping to outcropping. Birds flitted from tree to tree, with some doing crazy mid-air acrobatics, chasing insects we can’t see.
We exited the ALCAN Highway in Tagish, connecting with the Klondike Highway for our last push into Skagway, Alaska. The history along this stretch of road dates way back to the late 1800s when the gold rush took over this part of Canada and Alaska. The Tlingit people trapped this harsh land for survival. The Russians came to harvest what they could from the gold rich mountain streams and lakes and to buy pelts from the Tlingit people.
In 1942, the Alaska Highway was being completed which brought more and more people into the small villages and allowed for stores, saloons and hotels to spring up creating a booming mercantile market that allowed for easy sale of pelts and goods needed for gold mining. All this collapsed as the gold dried up. The roads to the villages still remained so the Tlingit continued to occupy the infrastructure that remained and created a lucrative trading business of beaver, lynx, bobcat and other large game animal hides. They supplied gas to westward travelers in their fancy new cars, a place to sleep and eat. Some of these towns, such as Dyea, have streets and street name signs, but the buildings have long since returned to the earth. Only trees, pictures on posts, and a boreal forest stand where the buildings once did. It is left to the imagination once again.
We chose to stay in the historic district/town of Dyea last night and tonight. Our camp sits on a tidal river. We learned that there are 22 different species of mosquito in Alaska, and I think we encountered half of them. A strong breeze did keep the rest of them away. We were entertained by a couple of bald eagles hunting on the tidal flats. We were not so amused by the little chipmunks that thought it would be fun to get up under the hood and strip some felt insulation off an intake for the fresh air by digging it off fuzzy piece by fuzzy piece. We decided to tape the shit out of it to prevent any more marauding.
Skagway
Today we packed up, went into town, and got showers at the Skagway Rec Center…much needed. You can pay $10 and stand under all the hot water you want! They even provide towels…bonus. Now all clean and wearing clean clothes, we are going to “paint the town” of Skagway.
As many of you already know…we came back from SE Asia on April 1, and began to plan our next adventures. We have always planned no more than a few weeks in the future. We’ve always done hours of research, blogs, travel tour itineraries, FB and IG pages; there’s just so much information to be found. Our next destination was to be Alaska and Canada.
While sitting in our hotel room in Bali, we began our research and found it very depressing how much it might cost to: A) rent a car or B) rent a van or motor coach. We had just about put the whole idea to bed when we thought about Andrew, the best man at our wedding and a wholesale car dealer in California. ‘Why not’, we thought, ask Andrew if we could browse the auctions and buy a van! It sounded like a great idea and no sooner did we ask, a Sprinter van showed up at an auction in LA, that was exactly what we were hoping for.
It was extremely low priced for what it was, a stock Revel 4×4 with 3,000 miles. After much research, phone calls at 2am Bali time, we decided to go for it, and bought the van. The auction had announced that it was stuck in 4wd low and would need to be towed to the dealer. Still under factory warranty, we decided the risk was small that a 3,000 mile Sprinter would have any major issues caused by improper use, so we scheduled an appointment with the dealer. Turned out to be user error, got her out of 4wd low by pushing a button.
Chris decided that she was going to fly to Los Angeles and drive the van back, and so 2 days after arriving back to Salt Lake, she was back on a plane and driving the van back. I would stay behind and manage our house/pet sit in Salt Lake City.
We spent the next 2 months making small but expensive modifications to the van. Suspension, sound system, bed mattress, additional storage boxes and additional water tank. We took her out a few times to the desert to make sure to work out any kinks and get a “feel” for how the space was set up for living. We finished our last house /pet sit, and loaded up the van, and set out for Canada and Alaska.
It was nice to be back on the road again. Back in a van and free. The only thing was we were basically driving through Canada and Alaska during high season and in a few places had to make reservations for camping. This does the very thing we try never to do…put us on a time schedule. We had to be in Haines Alaska by July 10th for an epoch river trip down the Tatshenshini and Alsek rivers than run the border between Canada and Alaska.
We got a bit of a late start. The van was loaded up, fluids checked, water tank full, plenty of groceries and “add water food” and clothes to cover heat to icy cold. Things had found their place in the van, all systems were go, so off we went…but we didn’t get far.
Cruising up the freeway, about 2 hours into our trip, outside of Idaho Falls, in the middle of soy beans and wheat fields, the van decided to throw a bunch of codes, the dashboard told us to pull over and shut off the engine immediately! So we did. We got out and put some reflective triangles behind the van. Bummed out, sitting on the side of the road, we called Mercedes roadside assistance and sat in the heat of the blazing evening sun waiting for a tow…back to where we came from.
I had deduced just from looking under the van that the serpentine belt, the main belt that drives all the charging and engine cooling, had shredded. The van only had less than 6,000 miles and was barely 2 years old?!? It turned out to be a warranty issue and 6 days later, we were back on the road.
Running days behind schedule we hit the road, again a late start, and boogied north. Nice thing about traveling in a van, you are completely self contained, so you can find a dirt road and follow it until you find a glorious secluded clearing, pull in, and go to sleep. That’s exactly what we did after 5 hours of driving, the last 2 with the sun glaring through the smashed bug guts on the window.
Day two: we woke to the early morning sun, warming the chilled night air. There was a huge lake outside our doors with families of Canadian geese strutting around its banks and little goslings splashing at the edge of the water. A lone cottonwood trees stood stately in the middle of the field. Just us and the geese. We took off after a bit of food and turning the van back around for travel. This requires making the bed so it can be raised up to the ceiling and freeing up the “closet” or “garage”, where our clothes and gear are stacked and organized neatly. The front two seats swivel to allow extra space and seating while parked. Window covering removed and stowed away. Counter tops cleared and cabinets doors closed and latched.
The next four hours we drove along the Beaverhead Mountains and the Bitterroot. Our destination was Whitefish Montana, to visit some dear friends that also enjoy van travel. We actually met them when we had our dealership. They owned a 2003 VW Westfalia and needed to sell it to buy and build new Sprinter conversion vans. Salt Lake Imports, or “The girls”, as we were known, came up in their search. We sold their van in a flash and became close friends.
We pulled into Whitefish at just around 6:30. Our friend suggested we go to the town square for some local live music and the food trucks, I just relished the thought of sitting in the grass, barefoot grounding myself back into the earth. Van life is usually a bit more relaxing, but with loosing 6 days we had ground to cover and fast. Our visit was short but we caught up in her kids and the sale of the house, her new business and our recent, year long EU and SE Asia trip. We still had an hour of driving to get to the border town of Eureka.
It’s been 2 months since we left the most peaceful, kind and giving part of the world.
We left Utah on June 1, 2020, as the world fell apart with COVID-19. We took off in our 2015 Ford Transit Van which we had spent the previous year preparing and building out the inside to serve as our home on the road. We chose the van life primarily for Gandaulf, since he was getting a bit too old to travel abroad via airplanes. It also was the safest way we could see the western US, with thousands of people dying everyday from this horrible disease.
It was hard at first to adjust to a small living space, but in actuality it was to be mainly for escaping weather and sleeping. Cooking, showering and all other “living” were done outside. Chris, Gandaulf, and I communing with Mother Nature at the most intimate of levels. Soon we became one with the ebb and flow of the days, enjoying hikes, bike rides, kayaking, campfires, sitting in silence, and living carefree. We spent the year touring Utah, Wyoming, Idaho, Arizona, Southern California, Montana and headed into Baja, Mexico for February through April of 2021.
Now, life on the road is not all fun and games. There’s a lot of lifting, bending, crawling on the ground, maintenance and things we always took for granted such as, finding potable water for our tanks. At times, we’d get a hotel room just to stand under an unlimited amount of hot water. We never planned too far ahead, usually two weeks out was good, but we always had direction. We had the freedom to follow brown signs to some new location we’d never been. There were breakdowns and even a dead mouse somewhere in the van that caused a week and a half of serious woes while in Canada.
Gotta find the mouse
In August of 2021, the border to Canada opened. We spent the previous summer in the Montana back country, hoping the border would open to no avail. This time we were ready and packed up and headed for Canada but this trip ended sooner than planned due to illness in the family. We made it as far as Jasper, AB and turned around to be with family during this time. In January of 2022, while preparing for another winter in Baja, Mexico, we lost both our little sister and Dad within a day of each other. We hung out in Salt Lake to help with the arrangements and to make sure that everyone was back on their feet. In March, 2022, we headed back out towards New Mexico and Arizona, then up to Idaho for the fall. October 2022 through January 2023, we headed down the west coast Highway 1, slowly making our way towards Baja, Mexico to spend another glorious winter.
January 30, 2023, as we were preparing to cross into Baja, Mexico, the call came that stopped us in our tracks. Forced to return to Salt Lake City, Utah, we packed up the van, mid-winter, and headed 700 miles north into the grips of the cold. We spent time at our girlfriend’s AirBnB until we found a new owner for the one ball and chain left in our life, our commercial property. After 3 months of winter, we watched the Spring bloom and the snow melt away. On March 21, 2023, the first day of Spring, we lost our 13 year old corgi, Gandaulf to dementia and pain. It was more than either of us could bear. On one hand we were free now to travel outside of the US, but what fun would it be without our little sidekick? What’s true is that life was still moving on with or without us, so we sold the van, the side by side ATV and trailer, gave away Gandaulf’s toys and food, and bought a one way ticket to Europe May 11, 2023.
Austria
Our travels the next 7 months took us to Ireland, Scotland, Portugal including 2 Azore islands, Germany, Austria, Spain, Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia, and Cyprus. We flew back to Salt Lake City for two weeks to resupply and move our clothes over to backpacks which was much more suited for the SE Asia countries and islands we planned to visit next.
IrelandST Miguel, AzoresNorthern CyprusMadeira, Portugal
Europe was an amazing eye opener. First off, everything, it seemed, was uphill. Streets were built to provide one car safe passage and turn outs for passing. There was an exorbitant amount of indiscriminate cigarette smoking…EVERYWHERE! The European people seemed cold and in their own worlds. The inn keepers were friendly enough, but it was their job, not always genuine. The ancient cities and architecture were incredibly beautiful. The history fascinated us. The US is so young in comparison. Kings, queens, armies, witches, sorcerers, jesters, common people and their animals, all strolled around the walled cities commonly found in most countries we visited. In my mind’s eye, I could picture the period costumes on the droves of people mingling in squares, sipping tea and coffee in sidewalk cafes. There is still so much to see and I am sure we will return soon to cover a few more countries there.
MontenegroJohn O’Groats, ScotlandEdinburgh
On November 18, 2023, we left for an undetermined amount of time in SE Asia. We had a tour for 45 days that was to cover Thailand, Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. Again, as in Europe, we were taken back by the history and ancient cities and buildings. The culture was mind blowing! Everywhere you looked, were statues of the Buddha, Vishnu, dragons, snakes, and other spiritual and mythical creatures bearing strong androgynous characteristics. Some half animal half human. The people were genuinely kind in nature, respectful and giving. Their lives were simple and they seemed content. They took care of family, strays, and less fortunate souls. Their religion was not just saved for the weekend, but visible in every aspect of daily life. Kindness abounded.
After our tour, we chose to spend two more months in Thailand, island hopping. We hit Koh Lanta, Koh Phi Phi, Koh Ngai, Koh Kradan, Koh Talabeng, Koh Muk, and Koh Lipe. Each island had its own unique charm with one common denominator…the native islanders. All in all our time in Thailand will always be remembered.
Our next stop took us to Singapore and this small countries’ towering highrises, well thought out freeways and the intelligent use of green spaces. It’s a modern metropolis at the tip end of a peninsula. It was a beautiful but very busy country that seems, from flying in, to be just a piece of land with millions of towering buildings. It has every modern technology incorporated into the infrastructure. It was quite a cool place to spend a few days. We also spent a few days in Langkawi, a small island in Indonesia, then took the leap into Malaysia and Bali, Indonesia.
Bali ended our SE Asia tour. We spent a month touring with our personal driver, Dek Udi. We had a really hard time with the humidity and heat so it was imperative to be around water. We met some of the most interesting and kind people who genuinely took an interest in us and our journey. Soon it was time to leave this incredible island and make our way back to the states for our next big adventure.
It’s been a month since we flew from Singapore back to Salt Lake City, UT, our home state, and it seems like we are finally getting a routine back into our lives. We pet/house sit for a week or so, then spend time in the van, then another pet/house sit, then back into the van and back into the desert for some silence. I am afraid this is as routine as it will get. It seems that Chris and I both have restless souls that prefer to wander than to settle down. Traveling allows us to meet and get to know new people on a personal level, one where they are engaged and not simply exchanging niceties.
The last two days have been a bit overcast and rainy. This made for a fun few days in the desert. It is this life giving rain that brings the deserts into bloom and, at the same time, turns the roads into a slick slurry of mud and sticky clay. After a night of downpours, we decided it wise to retreat from the back country and find some provisions and refill the water tank. The ride out was a nail biter but the 4X4 helped out. The slick mud and clay sticking to every inch of the van.
In a harsh environment, such as the desert, any rain that makes it to the ground is a godsend. Before the storm set in, the sky was full of brilliant white towering clouds with grey bottoms, being heavy laden with water. Below these beautiful floating vapor wonders, hang wispy sheets of rain that dissipate hundreds of feet from the ground, never a drop reaching the earth, this is called virga.
This strange but beautiful event occurs when the air is too hot and dry for the rain to hit the ground, it also can create dangerous down burst winds. These winds often show themselves as dust devils, columns of dust, sand and dirt that swirl hundreds of feet into the air like an invisible tornado starting from the ground up. It’s an amazing sight to witness and unforgiving if one is caught near one of these devils. They will hit a car and try to push it off the road, fill a tent and sleeping bag full of sand and send trash and debris flying hundreds of feet into the air, as if they were ballerinas preparing for a dervish dance.
Small flash flood in a desert wash
Traveling, as we do, is not for everyone. Some people like the comforts of four walls, TV, and a routine that rarely changes. Traveling is hard, takes a lot of planning and when traveling in a van, some heavy lifting. It can take you way out of your comfort zone or help you find a new one. It is, however for us, rewarding and fulfilling. The people you meet can be precious gemstones, or an obstacle, your choice. We may think we live in the best country in the world, but unless you travel…how would you know?
Can I start out by saying that my heart feels full when in the vast deserts of Utah. The grandeur is awe inspiring, the silence, deafening. The sun is warm on you skin in the cloud free azure blue skies that go on forever. The deep canyons, carved by wind, rain and the elements are like a sculpture’s best art. The spiral towers of molten type rock appear to ooze down the cliff faces, getting more narrow till one side meets the other in the depths of its rocky tomb. The great cottonwood and juniper, pinion pine and sage, seek shelter in the shadowy depths. If you sit patiently, you can see the prairie dogs, marmots, squirrels and chipmunks run along the layer of the cliff face. A crow breaks the silence with its caw and the swish of its wings as it shoots past us on the currents. A cool breeze slides along my cheek and gives me a shiver.
It’s our first outing with the new van. It’s a 2023 Winnebago Revel 4×4 on a Mercedes Sprinter chassis capable of traversing any terrain we can find, handling the washboard roads like a luxury vehicle but with the weight of a built out adventure van. The inside is cozy, fitted with all the amenities to keep us comfortable for our travel adventures to come.
Part of getting the new van was learning from our old van, SleepyTurtle. She was a fine build and was perfect for what we needed and especially traveling with Gandaulf, our old corgi. There were a few things missing, as we found out after 2.5 years living full time in her. She was built to withstand the worst rutted roads we found in Montana and Wyoming. She rarely had a rattle. She was built as a fair weather camping rig, without heat or AC, she had an inside composting toilet and an outside shower. There was plenty of counter space, we carried 50 gallons of water and had a ginormous fridge and high output stove, for outside cooking only. She was a great van! Now she and Gandaulf are gone.
Our new van, doesn’t have a name yet, but as we investigate her and outfit her to be home for perhaps the next year, one will come. Maybe some sort of warrior princess or a great explorer name, perhaps a docile creature of the desert or mountains. It will come.
We just finished our first house/pet sit in SLC and have taken a retreat to our favorite place, The Swell in central Utah’s San Rafael Desert. It’s a relatively short drive from SLC and sits at about 6,000 feet in elevation. The Good Water Rim Mountain bike single track trail sits adjacent to our camp. It’s a 6.8 mile trail that skirts the canyon rim and is quite technical although, and an easy ride to get the heart pumping.
Around our primitive camp, the sandy ground is a mauve color with stark greenish black, twisted bark, pinion pine and juniper trees standing against the brilliant blue sky. The layered sandstone revealed by the erosion of the sand, stand like castle walls at the top of an impenetrable hill. There is no sounds outside of the wind, birds and occasional passing vehicle.
It’s an oasis in the mad haste of life in the city. It’s a welcome respite from the last year of traveling in Europe and Asia. It calms the mind, lowers the blood pressure and can suck you away in a hypnotic trance if you sit and don’t think. A perfect spot for a meditation or just to day dream. Not a care in the world or a need to rush. Just silence, beauty and peace.
Again, let me start out by apologizing for not writing in so long. Today we find ourselves in Sanur, Bali. It is our last month in SE Asia. We went back and forth between Bali and The Philippine Islands. We hit 6 Thai Islands and it became increasingly hot and more humid as we went through February. For us, the high humidity and broiling sun was beginning to take a toll. I fully believe in listening to your body, and right now, it is telling me it’s time to stop and settle down for a month or so, somewhere less humid. I’m here to tell you, Bali is not that place. Yet, here we are.
There is really so much more that drives our destination picks. Since we have no real restraints on our time, we look at cultural lessons to learn, spiritual hot spots, beautiful people and good food. Bali checked off all those boxes.
We are here for the month of March. In Bali, the Balinese Hindu celebrate their new year called Nyepi. Unlike how New Year is celebrated around the world, Nyepi means The Day of Silence. It is a day the entire island shuts down, airports, shops, beaches, restaurants, taxis, everything. In extreme cases, WiFi, cell service and electricity. It is meant to be a day of reflection and meditation, without outside worldly interruptions, such as food, drink and even creature comforts of electricity and the internet. It is a day to heal the negative energies from the year before. A day to sit quietly, in deep introspection and fill the negativity with love and compassion. To kindle the desire to be a better person. A day to harness the spiritual self, and heal, not only oneself, but the world around you. What a novel idea…to become self-less and harness the deepest compassion for oneself, others and the world.
The day before Nyepi, the community gathers at dusk for ceremony that spills into the streets. The Ngrupuk parade. A giant papier-mâché monster with fangs, claws, hideous and grotesque, representing all the evil from the previous year, through these mythical demons, called Ogoh-ogoh. The ogoh-ogoh represents purification of the natural environment of any spiritual pollutants emitted from the activities of living beings. At the end of the parade it is usually burned on a beach or in a cemetery to cleanse all that it has absorbed and all it represents. These mythical beast represent eternal energy and eternal time, as taught by the Balinese Hindu teachings. “The imperceptible potentials of nature cannot be thoroughly explored by anyone. Philosophically, civilized men are required to manage the natural resources without damaging the environment itself.” The Ogah-ogoh effigy is turned 3 times at each intersection of the village representing the contact of bodies with the spirits. It is meant to bewilder and confuse any evil spirits so that those spirits go away and stop inflicting human beings and the village.
I am taken back by this whole idea. One that, perhaps if the entire world would practice, there would be more love and understanding towards each other. Perhaps it would kindle a greater desire to help heal the earth. It’s a dream bigger than any I could imagine becoming a reality, sad.
Two Travelin' Chicas... 