Mt. Hood Road Trip

(Jason)

Frazier is always coming up with spontaneous ideas about what we should do while he is back for the summer, and when he said, "Road Trip to Mt. Hood," I perked up like Pamela Anderson in a wet t-shirt contest and was on board instantly. Jon was soon to stepped up to the plate, like Ichiro about to hit a home run. I was Especially stoked when Frazier continued on, and I come to find out that not only are we going to be road tripping, but snowboarding on Mt Hood's glacier as well. We learned a few things during the trip. First, road trips must include cardboard signs that say random statements and questions. Second, there must have been a nuclear disaster at Windels snowboard and skateboard camp. Third, if you haven't been snowboarding for six months, don't attempt a forty foot kicker without looking at it first. Well, I learned that lesson!

Attached to hitting the road, come the feelings of freedom and adventure, both are of the highest regard in our Hammock Brothers lifestyle. As we hit the road, we decided that it would be a good idea to make signs that we could make people laugh with while driving down I5. At the first gas station we came to, we dumpster dove in search of the perfect cardboard canvas. Being in our mid twenty's the signs of course are going to include such things as "Will You Marry Me," "I Pooped Myself," and "I Love You," to name a few... This supplied a constant stream of laughs and a few snobbish, I can't believe you guys, looks as well. One lady was so disgusted from the "I Pooped Myself" sign that she refused to acknowledge our existence for the minute or so that we awkwardly stared at her, while pacing at the same speed. For the most part we saved our enthusiasm for the good looking girls, all of which laughed hysterically at our absurd signs. We were encouraged by honks, laughs, and upset looks. Sings were the best idea for a road trip that we have ever had, right after the "To Do" list of course.

It was about five O Clock and we were getting close to Mt Hood, and all sudden Frazier noticed a sign that read "Windells, The Funnest Place On Earth." A snowboard and skateboard  camp that has world renowned training with professional riders from all over. Naturally, we were very excited, but then we read that it was closed, and we felt as Chevy Chase did when he arrived at Walley World from the movie "National Lampoons Vacation." Frazier and I were determined to make something of being there, especially since Frazier had great memories of the place from earlier in his youth, and I had imagined what it would be like as a kid but never got to go. Looking around, there was not a soul in the entire place. We meandered around for a while, jumped on the in ground trampoline,  and then found and eat gummy worms, well I did. Then fully realizing no one was around  were now thinking we wanted to snowboard so Jon decided that we should flip a coin to see if we should use the grounds to snowboard on, always a good idea. Heads we do it, tails we don't, best two out of three. Tails, Heads, Heads, it's on! We grabbed our snowboards, and made our way straight for the artificial snow down ramp, which uses plastic for snow, and included grinding boxes and rails. Frazier and I attacked the grinding boxes as if we were Lions and the grinding boxes were our prey. As we finished our lines we all ran for our lives out of fear of being fined for trespassing, nothing beats a run when you feel you are being chased.

Over the Next two day's we hammock camped, drank a lot of home brew, snowboarded, and relaxed. For two days we also enjoyed Timberline lodge's sauna, hot tub, pool, and ping pong table, even though we weren't actually staying at the lodge. We looked like we were though, especially since Jon and Frazier walked around for the most part barefoot. Jon, Frazier and I hiked roughly two thousand feet and about a mile and a half to make our way to the glacier field so that we didn't have to pay for a lift ticket. This goes back to my taking the summer off with not much saved, and the philosophy of "I'll do it if it's free," that I'm famous for. It worked out great until Karma said, "Everything has a cost," and I tore my meniscus in my right leg from casing it on the big kicker. Or in laymen terms, landing on the flat part of the jump while falling ten feet up from not having enough speed. This lesson for me is sort of like the annual sun burn that we all must learn not to do year after year. What made it worse was that not even five minutes before, Frazier and I were discussing how people get hurt snowboarding from being to excited as well as not looking at the obstacle first before they attempt to conquer it. Not us though, we know better, Frazier did anyway. This is the Law of Attraction at work, don't discuss what can go wrong, discuss only what will go right instead. A general rule of life. It was wasn't worth the risk, as we Hammock Brothers would say.

One last thing worth noting was when Frazier dropped and shattered the home brew growler, which is a jug we keep our beer in. This growler was special to our good friend Tavo, due to it being from his favorite brewery back in his home town in New Mexico. Tavo owns and operates the "Man Cave," which is where all us Hammock Brothers go and drink our beer that we brew. As well as tell our tall tails of adventure and exploration of the world. Tavo converted his garage into a fully operational bar with three TV's, a projector screen, dart board, massive kegirater, and much, much more. Arriving home, we had to break the news to Tavo that the growler was dead, and that it wasn't Frazier's fault, but all three of ours since I'm the one that came up with the idea to take it, Jon filled it up, and then Frazier actually dropped it. Our friend Joe was right there when we told Tavo and he exclaimed, "This one I had nothing to with  for once," passing the buck onto us as we all laughed.

The Mt Hood road trip was a great experience full of good laughs, good people, and good times. This trip was very inexpensive, especially because Frazier talked  his dad into allowing us to take his hybrid which managed get on average sixty miles per gallon, and because we camped two nights along a river in our hammocks for free. Not having to pay for accommodations when we travel is a huge reason we can do what we do. I will no doubt remember these grand days in my old age, especially when my knee is aching along with probably every other joint as well by that point. Here's our first video that we have edited of the road trip. We filmed it in high def but could only upload it in low quality because of YouTube's music copy writing laws, which we are going to break quickly. Not too bad for our first video though.

Meet The New Hammock Brothers:

Joe

Tavo (Proud owner and operator of the Man Cave)

Francis

The Shambhala Experience

Being invited to Christina lake for a week with my friend Frazier and his family was a dream come true for me, but I had no idea what was to come. When I left home I had no idea that I would be sneaking into one of Canada's largest music festivals with no money, tent, or friends and living for four days. Or how my family would be calling the Royal Canadian Mounted Police because I was "missing" and my mom thinking I was dead. Or that I would be hitch hiking with no money across Canada for three day's a beautiful girl by my side. It all started when my good friend Frazier invited me for a week of "relaxation," well a little of that, but mostly random. Arriving to the lake, I finally began to see what he had been talking about all these years, in the summer sun, Christina Lake is perfect in every way. Its warm, clean, with cliffs to jump, and beaches to lie. The lake is nestled within the Kootenay Rockies located in the South Eastern part of British Columbia, Canada. The Kootenay's stretch from the Okanagan valley in the west to the boarder of Alberta in the East. I was awe struck and fell in love with the Kootenay's by the end of my week and a half adventure, for many reason's, I want nothing more then to go back as soon as possible.

I spent five day's enjoying the lake with Frazier and his brother Jensen, and his Cousin Spencer spending our day's swimming, looking for cool girls to hang out with, and borrowing the Internet in the parking lot of the local cafe. We became idol's to the kids next door because of our diving board skills including dives and flips, and our willingness to watch them do their dance routines. They seemed to be able to bring out the kid in us, not wanting anything more then to enjoy swimming, running, and laughing. Our first night we meandered our way to one of the neighbor's houses and learned of a music festival called Shambhala, and how it was going to be taking place in the next few days. Instantly, I began to inquire about the details and try to figure out what it was all about. I soon learn that on the Salmo River Ranch a city of over eleven thousand people appears and goes on for five days. This planted a seed in me that was soon to blossom into a full blown plan on how we were going to get in. Over the next couple of days I learned a little bit more about the festival from their website and from the locals. Every time it came up I heard more, and became more and more interested.

Here's where the real story begins. The tickets to Shambhala had been sold out for some time, so we knew that we couldn't pay for tickets, that and they were really expensive even if we could scalp them. The festival was to begin Friday morning, so by late Thursday afternoon we had a plan. After a bit of research and studying the Google map, we decided on the best option. The plan was to drive the 100 kilometer's or so, bring a raft, and float down the river to where it connects to the festival, which I come to find out a few days later, is nearly impossible. We knew that there would be know way through the front gate with the super tight security on their AT V's patrolling. We had the plan and so now it was go time. We headed back to the cabin from the parking lot of Cafe with it's Internet, packed our bags, checked the rafts durability and we were off. Frazier opted not to go along on this escapade, even after I tried hard to convince him it being a solid plan. Next thing you know, Jensen, Spencer and I are headed toward Shambhala, not knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

We made it within a few kilometer's from where we needed to be to try to float the river, and then we hit a road block, literally! The Royal Mounted Police had a road block set up, looking for people with drugs and open alcohol. I thought we had nothing to worry about so I was very nonchalant and relaxed sitting in the back seat. That ended abruptly when the police man noticed an open beer can in the cup holder. "Oh no!" we had totally forgot that before we left the cabin Jensen had opened and drank a beer and accidentally set it in the car as we were leaving. To make things worse, Spencer had no proof of insurance, which we come to find out is a seven hundred dollar ticket if enforced. So here we are, within walking distance from where we wanted to go, standing on the side of the road while our car is being searched for drugs. After a few minutes the police decide they weren't going to give us a ticket for the no insurance, just the open container, which was two hundred and something dollars. Also, they decided that we couldn't drive the car until we get proof of insurance, this was a problem because when the Tow truck driver arrived he told us that he couldn't tow us to the town of Salmo because there was supposedly we couldn't be dropped off on public property, only private and he knew of no place in town, bunch of hog wash if you asked us. Luckily he didn't have the right truck to tow the car, and so another guy came along and told us we could be dropped off at his brothers mechanic shop in town. So here we are, headed to some town we'd never heard of, where hopefully they had and Internet connection so that we could print off the proof of insurance that we needed so we could continue on to Shambhala. By this point moral between the Spencer and Jensen was dwindling faster then Jensen's bank account. Between paying for the tow and the ticket Jens was now roughly four hundred dollars in the hole. I on the other hand, couldn't be more focused on what we were going to do next so that we could make it to the river before dark.

Luckily, we made our way to a local grocery store owned by the nicest family that I have ever met, whom helped got on the ball and printed off the insurance that we needed. The owners son actually called his sister who was at home down the street, had her print off the insurance info, and road her twenty one speed mountain bike at high speed to the store where we met her with complete gratitude. After about an hour of learning about the town of Salmo and being entertained by this family and their enthusiasm, we headed to a local restaurant where we could get some food. Sitting at the table talking with Spencer and Jensen I realized their focus was gone and they were thinking about turning around. As usual, I got into my persuasion mode and began my speech trying to change their minds around. I enthusiastically begin, "We have made it sixty miles, spent four hundred dollars and are within two miles of the festival and you guys are thinking about turning around?" I exclaim disappointingly. I knew that this was the crux, and we had to push forward. I go on, "This is that moment where one makes a decision, a decision to push on and see where it will take us, or time to give up home!" I was not about to give up, not after coming this far. After a few more minutes of convincing I had finally got them both to agree that we should at least try to make our way to the parking lot of the festival to hopefully hang out at least with some other people that didn't have tickets and were trying to make it in just as we were, this included going back through the road block, but now we were legitimate. It was getting dark quick and therefore was to late to try float the river so this was the next best option I determined.



Here we go, we were back on the road and I was more determined to get into Shambhala then George Bush was to to invade Iraq in 2002. We take the turn to drive down the long gravel road to take us to the festival which is where the first security check was. Spencer had come up with the genius idea to tell the security guard that we got pulled over and towed back to Salmo to make him feel sorry for us and then Spencer continued on to explain that we were meeting our friends at the main gate at the end of the road because we were running late. It worked, we couldn't believe it! One more bullet dodged, which would be the first of many. As one could imagine, we are excited, and I'm high is a kite on sheer adrenalin. Arriving at the gate was like landing on the moon, and now all we had to do was figure out how to get past the tight security. We park the car, walk up to security, and explain our situation. We go on to tell the guy on the ATV that our friends are in the festival and that we tried calling them but had no service. He then let us continue on to wait for the "friends" to arrive to give us our tickets. By this time I had already began befriending the next security guard knowing that it couldn't hurt. Spencer and Jensen became bored and soon wanted to head back to the car for the night to wait for the next day so they could try floating the river so then they left. I wasn't about to give up, I wanted in. Next thing I knew I had made friends with a whole group of people that had for some reason left the festival and were hanging out by the gate. They took me in as one of their own and when I explained that I had no ticket and no idea how i was going to get in, they felt bad. As they got up to go back in, I followed like a lost puppy dog, in the hope that maybe there was a possibility I could just sneak in unnoticed in the group. The security guard I was talking to earlier wasn't paying attention so I slipped pass her, and now I only had one more guard in between me and the time of my life. As the guard checked every body's wrist bands, I strategically walked on the outside of the group and then it I heard a, "hey!" geared toward me, but I kept walking. It was late and so the guard lazily assumed that I must have a wrist band because everybody else had one, genius. Almost in slow motion, and complete shock, I was now walking towards the loudest bass I have ever heard along with the coolest lasers shooting in the sky as if they were directed to me beaming me home. I had made it in. Sheer determinism, luck, and sneakiness were to thank.



As I walked toward the music I thought to myself, I need a long sleeve shirt and quickly or else I would be caught because I didn't have a wrist band. Thankfully, my new friend Ryan, who looks like a mix between Jerry Garcia and Tommy Chong let me borrow his long sleeve shirt, perfect! I was set, sort of. All I had was what I was wearing- a shirt, long sleeve shirt, swimming shorts, and sandals. I would be wearing this for four days, by the end of everything was a little dirty to say the least. I stayed awake the whole first night meeting people, discovering new places within the festival, and dancing. A lot of dancing. There were five main stages, the main two were the Fractal forest and Village. Between these two stages lay a maze of trails that were easy to get lost in, mentally and physically. I spent the next four days living in this new place with a ton of new great people. I became a local over a couple days, and by the end of it I was sharing some really cool spots that I had found, like the Water sanctuary, and trails for running. On the last day I had a bunch of fruit that had been gifted to me and decided that I should give some of it away so I began walking around giving apples and oranges away as gifts. I just so happened to offer one of the Oranges to Amanda who within minutes we had decided it would be a good idea to hitch hike together west together toward Vancouver BC.



Shambhala and the eleven thousand residents really changed my view of festivals like these. Over the years I have known so many people that have been very dismissive and not understand why these "hippies" go to big festivals like these, but I now understand in a big way, maybe because I am more of a hippie now myself, I feel hip anyway. For four days I lived in my swim shorts, tee shirt, and a sweat shirt which was getting a little old. I had to wear the sweat shirt even though it was hot because I didn't have a wrist band, but once I got a wrist band that my friend Ryan gave to me from one of his friends that was leaving I instantly was revitalized and ready to party. Instantly, I jumped off a ten foot embankment into the river, which was only a few feet deep, started playing jamming out everywhere I went, and danced for hours painted from head to toe. I would have to say this was one of the highlights for sure, I love dancing, and this was the first time but not the last that I would be painted from head to toe, it was great. I am what they call a Shambhalifer because I will go probably every year here on out As the festival ended, I didn't want to leave and thought about trying to get everybody together to try to figure out how we could live off the land and not have to go home. These are the types of thoughts that enter into my head as a result of living at Shambhala for five days, a little crazy, but cool non the less. The whole time I never met one bad person, and connected with many new friends that I will remember forever.


Amanda and I were ready to start heading west and so now we were off. We got picked up by a guy who was coming down off of MD MA and was being a little to forward with Amanda, so I put him in his place by being like, "Dude, you are coming down from ecstasy and need to calm down it's not cool!" he replies with, "I know, I just messed up my chance with a girl that I met and I'm a little sad about it, sorry man." and just like that he was cool again, and we were all good. By the time he dropped us off at a town called Roseland which is a major winter skiing destination we had another good friend and he actually gave us forty dollars for a hostel for the night because he knew we didn't have any money. I actually ran out of money about a week before all this when I was back in Christina lake, so I had nothing. This is what I do while I travel, I only bring a certain amount with me because I don't want to spend a bunch of money while I travel, this way it's more of an adventure as well. We ended up staying in a hostel in town which was perfect because it poured that night and we would have been drenched if we would have slept outside. It was nice to take a shower in the hostel as well because by this point it had been probably six days since I had taken a real shower. This is what happens being a vagabond and not having any money.

A few of our photos.

Hey Sam here!

So I just read the L.A road trip blog, and a sense of envy has stricken me so profoundly that I almost wept. That sounds awesome! The list is definately something that should be carried with us!

Now obviously I have taken a lot of photos over the last few months, and none more so than when in America with you guys! So I thought I'd create a little blog where I upload some of the best shots I had of our road trip time in terms of photographic beauty ... and will soon upload a similar one but of shots of us! Hope you enjoy!

This is taken on one of those typically dreary Seattle days,
and this seagull, just gazing into the distance,
reflects the reflective mood I was in that day.

 This is the fire lookout on the top of Mount Pilchuck, at
sunrise after we had spent a wonderful night there,
and before we began our beautiful, although ultimately almost costly, descent.

What better sight can a man have from his front door than this? Immaculate.

 The typical scene at the house. This goes some way to epitmomising
why I fell in love to naturally with this place!

During our trip around the Olympic Peninsula, the quaint and cosy
little streams rushing and trickling through the deep green of the
rain forest creating a magical place indeed. I believe this was
taken on the day of our trip to the midnight hot springs. What a place!

 This is creek falls, near the quite luxurious and hospitable Quinalt lodge.
 It was raining when I took this, and just managed to squeeze the shot out!

This is lake quinalt, one quiet evening whilst we were lounging there.

This shot captures the bleak, monstrous and rural beauty of the
western coastlines of the Olympic peninsula. I got soaked
getting this, but them there beaches, Rialto and Ruby, were fantastic and wild places.

 This was the quite wonderful river bank we found ourselves on one morning,
 having blindly parked there the previous night. It was in Bend, Oregon,
and the climbing, and quaint little ledges and woodland there was just perfect.

Crater Lake. I followed Justin up a perilous little rock face
 to get to the peak of this overlook, and
what a place this is. Breathtaking day of snow shoeing.

 We had an unbelievable time in San Francisco! All of us there together,
and we of course all remember this brilliant moment.
 It just encapsulates our time in that incredible city.

 Yosemite might just be the zenith of landscape photography,
and despite the bleak weather we had there,
 it was a stunning place, and I quite like this black and white shot.

This is my favourite photograph I have taken. This was a classicly
spontaneous little moment, climbing that there mound. It was like a
sentry overlooking its wonderful, sleeping, golden and green landscape.

 I like this shot of Justin. It just captures the vastness of Death Valley.
 It was a brutal and vast place, but ruggedly beautiful at the same time.

This shot was taken near the Horseshoe in Page, Arizona. It was a
beautiful evening (as they generally are in Arizona), and I just loved this desert shrubbery.

Monument Valley is a magnificent place, despite the commercial build
 up there that taints many places these days. But it is a magnificent sight nevertheless.

 Shiprock, New Mexico. A mighty bastion rising from the
plains at sunset, towards the end of our epic trip.

A brief and jumbled synopsis of my time since those heady American days.

This has been infinitely too long in it’s arrival … and I must, first and foremost, apologise for that. It has now been four months since I flew out of San Francisco airport with adventure surrounding me, but three unbelievable friends behind me, and I find myself sitting in a flat overlooking Lothian street, Edinburgh, at 2.36am, drunk as can be on nostalgia for those times. But it is not where I am, it is where I have been, and what my views on our adventures have become, that is important.

So where have I been? Well I’ve been to Asia. The expanse and the freedom of America was stripped of me the day I set foot in Asia … I had been spoilt by the lethargic ease with which we had existed then. But Asia was different, and it wasn’t necessarily worse. I was surrounded by good friends, and the character of some of them there cities was just infinite and baffling, it was sublime. The thing I found with Asia, is that wherever I looked, my eyes tended to just fall, all unsuspecting and naïve, on something absolutely and endlessly charming. Unfortunately this can not be the case in places like the UK and America at times, although at the same time I do believe that literally anything in life may be viewed with fascination and meaning if time and place and the viewers brain do just consider for a while.

But one of the most important things I preferred about America was the fact that I met so many incredible local people, who I could befriend and spend time with, and who could show me their local area … my fellow Hammock Bros being the finest example of this! In Thailand though, although I met some incredible local people who really inspired me … my path was generally a tourist trail. This is not to say thought that there weren’t some incredible times.

My time there was too long to properly summarise in an article, or at least a succinct article, but I have included a map that shows my path, and how long I spent in each place. But there is time and space for a few anecdotes and highlights.

<> 

Local river boats in Vang Vieng

Me at the Sonkarn Festival.

My first two weeks in Asia were spent with my family, and as well as Bangkok and Kohn Kaen (where we experienced the incredible Songkarn witgh the locals covering us in powder and water), we spent around five days in Vang Vieng, Laos … an incredible place.  It’s a small town right on a meandering, mystical river that winds its way between sheer misty green cliffs and hills, and small jungle huts adjourn the banks. Watching the locals go about their day to day lives, with children swimming and laughing in the river together, and fathers herding their cattle into the river to cool off, local fishermen humming small boats to and fro, and mothers washing their children’s clothes near the reeds, is a wonderful way to spend time. The town is also a backpackers town though, and my brothers and I spent a lot of time on the river rope swings nearby, and spent time rock climbing in the shady caves set back from the bank. It was a magical time pondering life on the banks of that river … and has planted in me a desire to spend time on a river (Jon, I know Louisiana has some lovely melancholy rivers because I‘ve read Huckleberry Finn).

I spent two different spans of time on the southern islands of Thailand … one with some friends in late April, and once again with my beautiful girlfriend and some other friends in June. Now the islands are of course beautiful, but they are simultaneously a pit of booze ridden tourist destruction, and although there were many great drunken nights, and one where my friend and I found ourselves slugging at one another in a Thai boxing ring at 2am, the crowd going wild (I won with two knockdowns thanks to my quite brutal strength and punching prowess), I found that the most brilliant way to explore and experience the islands was to leave the commotion behind. My girlfriend and I got a number of mopeds out on Ko Phangang, Ko Samui and Ko Tao, me driving with her perched behind me, and we zoomed and travelled to the remotest regions of them, to hidden coves and through Thai villages and forests, and beautiful empty coast lines under the falling sun, and it was completely serene and beautiful. Those days, more so than the famous full moon party and the time spent in the ocean and in bars, were comfortably the most perfect I spent on those islands … they were peaceful and liberating.

Me at rural jungle hut, Railay. We had
monkeys bombing onto our roof during

a storm!

Similarly, the day that a friend and I took mopeds up the coast in Vietnam between Hoi An (a wonderfully quaint town renowned for its tailored clothing) to Hue. Not another Westerner in sight, we raced along the coast amidst the hectic traffic of Denang, wound our way over glorious coastline twists and turns, overlooking the most idyllic coves I have hitherto set my eyes upon. The beauty of that journey could be wonderfully recounted if I had more time and talent, but it would be the sort of writing that would be enjoyed only by artists and romantics, such was the beauty of the moment we chased that steam train through the rich country of middle Vietnam, chased ourselves, as I like to be, by the sinking sun. The character of the Vietnamese cities is endless and mesmerising, with two wheeled vehicles reigning supreme, filling the cities with such a hustle you couldn’t help but get excitable. I have to say I regret not taking more walks around those cities, in a similar way that I would have regretted not exploring those southern islands had I not actually explored them. That is to say that like the islands, they had more infinitely more to offer than I realised. The cherry on the cake of my Vietnamese venture, was the night I spent on a boat in Halong bay getting drunk with a group of splendid strangers. There was a middle aged Parisian woman who told me of France, two wonderfully upbeat Italian twins, and a bear like Canadian brute with a heart of gold. As I stumbled to bed on that boat, it being my penultimate night in Vietnam, I almost wept in awe of where I was, drunk and tiny in a big world. Vietnam is the country I envisage myself returning to most soonly (I believe in made up words if the reader understands them) from the three I went to, Thailand, Vetnam and Cambodia.

Me on moped during the beautiful Vietnam drive.

The outstanding days of Cambodia were spent at the Anchor Watt temples there, a small land of golden mystique, silent temples crouching in the sporadic jungles and plains under the Cambodian sun. It was fantastic perched on those temples, trying to picture life in the 12th century as the native royals and slaves pottered about there. We also visited a small landmine museum there, which was insightful and interesting.

Monks at one of the Ankor Watt temples.

I could write a novel of anecdotes and experiences in Asia … it was a wonderful experience and one which I endeavour to repeat in the future. But most interesting to me is how my travels have influenced my beliefs, just as they did in America. Asia has heightened my respect for local people (although I would like to think that this was very much instilled in me beforehand), and when I heard tourists complaining and abusing local people, local people who’s home these tourists had essentially come to ‘vomit all over’ (in the words of comedy group Unexpected Items who created a satirical sketch on the matter), I began to feel angered and sad about it. I felt like everybody on the islands were too similar, and that many people came for the wrong reasons, me included at times. Asia was wonderful, but I saw it more as a holiday than an adventure at times like these. Asia certainly lowered my desire for a commercial lifestyle even further, and I always ate local cuisine.

The tree in the field behind my garden ...
where my adventure began and ended,
and where I like to hang the hammock and chill.

But the time came for me to return to England, and after a two hour stop in Hong Kong I was once more in the realm of my wonderful home and with my beautiful family, hitting golf balls into the field behind my house, pondering my travels and how I had changed. More words to come soon about how I feel my beliefs have changed, and maybe some ‘Top 5’ lists from in America! I’ve always find it hard to merely document what I have done in writing as opposed to giving it a creative edge … but I hope this gives you guys at least a small insight into where I’ve been etc … hopefully I can tell you all in more detail when plans of further adventures come to life.

Now? Well I’m in Edinburgh finding what work I can grab to have a whale of a time at this Fringe Festival … it’s a magical place and a new adventure, living in another city of outrageous and breathtaking beauty, meeting new people and experiencing new things, learning new beliefs and the like. But that may well just be for another blog.

Peace for now!

Introduction: Frazier

Hey everybody, my name is Frazier, proud member of the Hammock Brothers.


What does it mean to me to be a hammock brother? It means living life the way it was meant to be, living it for yourself, and not for some corporation or some guy who’s dad sent him to a better college than my dad sent me to.

No, that doesn’t me that I have removed myself from society, preaching about how disgusting money is, preaching about the evils of war and greed. I am a big fan of society, I like to involve myself in it, but I don’t want to become a slave to it.

How bouts a little introduction to myself? If you asked my friends who I was, they’d say I’m the China kid, I’ve lived in Beijing for 4 years now and am back now for a couple more. I’m doing the student thing, just finished my Bachelor degree in Chinese Language and Culture. I sometimes like to scare the white folk by speaking in tounges.

I like the different cultures of the world. As I expose myself to more and more I find more and more how much I like the one that I was raised in: A culture that encourages creativity, a culture that encourages individuality.

Some random dazzling facts about myself; I’ve vagabonded in Japan (Hokkaido) for 3 months (on 700 USD, not a lot…), I’ve been on a Chinese game show, I have TTR (ticket to ride) points, I’ve marched in the commi ass parade in Tiananmen square, Beijing, and coolest of all, I've made a group of friends (the hammock bros and then some) that I wouldn't trade for all the booty in the carribean! My friends are my wealth.

Anyways, I’m currently on the Hammock Brothers therapy program. Well, that’s what it is to me anyway. Living in a place like Beijing for so long can tear down even the strongest of us. I’ve lost my sanity at times, sinking into the mindset that many on this earth never escape from. Coming back to America this summer (2010) I found it hard to find smiles coming up on my face, and I had forgotten what I had been like before. I had been back for not very long at all when Jason called me up and said “LA tomorrow, you down?” I said “ahhh, money money…” Jason said “It’s taken care of honey” and I said “quit joking, this s**t aint funny” he said “keys in the ignition and the tank is full” I said “Lets do this s**t, hey give me that red bull” Haha, anyways, I woke up the next day and we were in Venice beach. And the rest is already written history.

This trip was therapy for me. We did "The List" (mentioned in Jason’s Blog), which forced us to leave our comfort bubbles that to many people is a small jail cell, and interact with a lot of really different people from all different walks of life. There was also one night that I’ll never forget. We were killing time waiting for a couch surfer to get off work, when Jason started doing a balancing act on a hand rail, walking back and forth on it. He said, “Frazier, hit this up!” I hesitated. As we get older (I’m 24) we find ourselves getting lazier, not willing to do anything that doesn’t have a monetary award, and I was in one of those moods at the time. But Jason insisted, and before I knew it I was balancing on the rail as well, walking forward on it, then going backward. Then we did a harder rail, where losing ones balance might result in a pain in the ace to say the least. But I did it, and I remembered what life used to be about, taking slight risks that have the reward of creating memories. Anyways, I felt the healing effects right away, and the rest is history.

Now after hanging out with and becoming a hammock brother, I am ready to go back to China and tackle life before it tackles me, before it takes me down.

Backpacking the San Juan Islands

Grab you're backpack; we're headed out the door for an inexpensive adventure to Orcas Island - the largest of the San Juan Islands, located in the wester part of Washington State. This trip was like a hybrid between backpacking Europe and going to Maui; only it's a $12.50 ferry ride! Once on any of the islands - ferry travel is free between the islands and back to the mainland - and since we're arriving on foot and plan on hiking and hitching around the island our travel expenses can't get any lower!

Our journey begins by getting dropped off at the ferry terminal in Anacortes, WA. We had planned on going to San Juan Island but it was a two hour wait and the ferry to Orcas Island was boarding so we paid our fees and jumped aboard. As a sailor, there is no better way to visit a new place than to pull into port! Arriving on the island at the ferry terminal is like traveling back in time when we didn't have all the security at the airports - warm embraces between friends and family and everyone is glad to see each other and I'm sure most feel fortunate to have made it back to the beautiful island they call home. 

We crossed the street and took our packs off and enjoyed a few cups of coffee at the Orcas Hotel & Cafe  and studied the map to get our bearings. We got focused and decided making a sign with our destination on it would increase our odds hitchhiking - and it worked like a charm! Within 5 minutes a lady stopped and waived us over. She owned the 420 Studio on the island and was a very informative tour guide on our 10 minute drive to Moran State Park, a 5,252 acre park with five fresh water lakes and over 30 miles of hiking trails. We were dropped off at the main beach of Cascade Lake and it was bustling with people enjoying the sun, swimming, and grilling on the BBQs. We set up our hammocks, threw on our swim suits, turned up the music, and jumped in the water. It was such a nice summer day and we knew we were where we were meant to be!

We eventually got an itch to start exploring and found a trail that went around Cascade Lake. We hiked for a few miles enjoying the view from the cliffs above the lake and found a perfect spot to call home for the night. 

When hammocking you don't need a nice tent site so we figure why pay for one. Our strategy has been to hike down a trail until you find a grand view with trees that are appropriately spaced and setup around sunset. As the saying goes - it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission - but we trek lightly and are well intentioned and always try and leave an area nicer than we found it. 

We flipped our cardboard sign over and inscribed our next destination 'Olga'. We didn't know it at the time but this sign would become quite the souvenir of the trip because by the time we left it was capable of getting us to all of the popular spots on the island: East Sound, Doe Bay, Moran State Park, and the Ferry... It worked so well that we joked about selling them to tourist as they arrived off the ferry. Thumbing a ride on islands has been great in our experience - and on Orcas island we never waited any longer than 5 or 10 minutes. It became so easy that at one point we decided we could use the exercise and backpacked to our next destination... and after four miles we were discussing if we should hitch the rest of the way as a truck was zooming by and Justin half heartily threw a thumb up the last second and the truck squealed to a stop before his thumb made it all the way up... Our backpacks are the equivalent of lifting the hood of a vehicle... it's easy to see our intentions and it can be fun testing different strategies of what works and what doesn't when it comes to hitching a ride. Justin jokes that you've reached the pinnacle of hitchhiking if you can get a limousine to stop.

We stayed three nights and spent a combined total of $100. We feel fortunate to have had the time to explore such a remarkable place and we plan on returning to the San Juans for a thorough exploration of San Juan, Lopez, Blakely, and maybe a few other islands as well.