The Places We Live...

My gear was packed deliberately this time. I didn't forget anything. I was ready to be gone for a long time. Perhaps I wouldn't even come back. Something in the woods was calling me deeper into the wilderness, away from the trails and back-roads. I wanted to be lost out there, away from all my troubles, all my physical pains, and most of all, away from him.

I've lived a full life this summer, but I'm looking forward to returning to Ashland. He won't be there this time, and I'll be free to roam with my head held high in joy, not defiance. Yet in the back of my mind, I'll still wonder if he's okay out there in the desert. My sister told me that "War turns little boys into men."

Grizzly Bear is a little boy. He's afraid to face so many things in life, but thinks he's covering up his fear by charging off into a battle he's unprepared for. This is not true courage. True courage would be staying here, facing me, and telling me he was sorry.

But that opportunity has passed. I don't want to see him again, not even to punch him now. I don't want to talk to him again, not even to hell him I hate him.

I'm going to send him food in care packages while he's in Afghanistan (he did save my life, after all), but I've decided that I'm not going to send him any letters - not even hate mail.

If he tries to contact me, I'll simply ignore him.

And when he gets back from his 400-day deployment, I'll stop sending him anything until he heads out again. When he's done with the war (or when the war is done with him), that'll be the end of it. He'll never hear from me again.

In the meantime, I know what I have to do for myself. My healing process is not complete until I return to the woods, the mountains, the cave, and the mines which wind their way beneath the earth.

There is one mine in particular...the very mine which taught me to trust in people again, which is calling me in dreams. I see it while I sleep nearly every night now. I walk through the winding tunnel, ankle deep in water, until I reach the dead end at the deepest depths of the mineshaft. Here, there was a mural painted on the granite wall - an image of a psychedelic vortex, spiraling into the earth like some bad acid trip in shades of green, purple, and neon yellow.

When I saw it, I felt oddly disappointed. I'd walked through the woods and into a dark tunnel with a complete stranger just for this? I was hoping for something a little more creative.

So I've formed a plan: When I head back to Ashland after Burning Man, my first order of business after unpacking all my gear will be to head back into the woods armed with enough gear for two weeks' worth of survival, and a crapload of spray paint.

I don't know what I'm going to paint on the wall in that mine yet, but I know that the woods will give me the inspiration I need to begin, the darkness of the tunnel will give me courage to continue once I've started, and the mere fact that I'm alive will give me the motivation to finally produce a masterpiece.

If he ever tries to come to Ashland to see me again, he'll be told to meet me at the mine and nothing more.

I know what he'll be thinking. He'll be thinking he's finally getting lucky.

But I'll be somewhere far away when he walks into the cavern, alone in the dark.

No, he won't find me there. At least not all of me. He'll find a part of me alright, but not in a manner he is mentally capable of comprehending. I just hope he feels SOMETHING when he sees my painting.

Because I, miles and miles away, will be swimming in a pool of crystal clear spring water, buck naked by myself, grinning from ear to ear. Nature is the only other being I need in my life to be happy. "I'm not your trophy fuck, Grizz. But nice try."






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Photograph taken after a long night in the woods with a rescued stranger. I'd never met him before, and I wanted nothing more than to be alone in the woods, but he was in need of help and I was the only one there who could help him.

Kenny and I trusted each other enough to share a cave together for the night. When I awoke the next morning, he and his gear were gone - everything else was as I'd left it. Kenny, you renewed my faith in humanity. Thanks, man.

Gear includes: aluminum-frame backpack filled with clothes and food and cooking supplies. AMP energy drink and banana chips. Pepper spray. Firestarter. Trench knife. Folding knife. First aid kit. Fireworks. Camera gear. And a coyote skin headdress.