So I only have 12 more days tell my flight, 10 more days at the lodge, move into new place in 16 days and 17 more days tell school starts. I've already started reading my book for institutional economics, The Theory of Business Enterprise by Veblen, interesting very interesting. My old roommate from last year gave me a call and said I could have her room, which takes the weight of finding a place as I come rolling into Oregon. Its for sure that I'll hit the ground running, but I'll have a place to stay the day before school starts and my stuff is in storage like two blocks away. Perfect, I love how that worked out.

Things at the lodge have been going great except for a fluke week which seemed as if nothing could go right, like some cosmic correction was being enforced . Our lovely guest Jim and William were subjected to an upheaval of events that started on the first day of this month. To say the least, we all came out the other end in one piece and thats all that really matters.

The Helio is down for the count. Kirk had an unexpected emergency landing on the tundra, but everyone walked away. A trooper, some bear sightings and prints (I'm not jogging anymore on the trail for sure now), flat tires and just general stress pumped through our veins.

Here are some pictures of the fishing trip with Chris. More like he went fishing and we watched, but I did manage to hook a grayling at one point.

The streams are infested with sockeye salmon and their now washing up on the beach in front of the lodge.

Grayling I caught.

Erin is holding some king boletes. Yes, I know the ones on the ground are poisonous but trust me the ones she's holding are delicious.

oh darn, I thought this was the good picture of the bears. Well that dot is a bear.

Homemade wine day. We opened it for Jeremy, a wonderful man from Britain, but found that it was very alcoholic.

Chopping wood. I've done a little bit of everything this summer. You should see my sanding and staining job on the cabins.

I have enjoyed my time here and have debated asking if I have a job next summer. For how crazy it can get here there is some kind of happiness I get from being cut off from the world. I love the fact I haven't been in a store for over three months, buying useless things that I just want but don't need. The crazy thing is, as most of you who know me will concur, that I don't shop that much in general anyways and that not stepping into a store for three months would be easy for me, but yet it oddly has become a fascinating endeavor that I long for. The idea of getting a mango when I want one sounds amazing or having a cup of coffee in a coffee shop and people-watching sounds like another roadside attraction that just veers you of the road suddenly.

It reminds me slightly of how it felt after the five days of being in the woods by myself. Oddly enough, I can remember spending a whole hour just thinking about a lemon blueberry muffin and how great it would taste. To tell you the truth I thought a lot about food up there in the woods for those seven days and could even taste it if I thought about it long enough, but as I recall when I got back I don't think I ever did eat most of the things I swore I would reward myself with when I was up there. I just remember the lemon-blueberry muffin and the first cup of coffee.

Here, I think about how many people I'll see when I get back. It's going to be weird to go from seeing only about ten people a week (and thats calculated by the 4 I see 24/7, the 2 garbage people I see twice a week if we're lucky and the 2-4 guest we may or may not have) and then seeing forty people in a classroom starting in 17 days! How will I adjust?

I love that I haven't seen cars driving on roads or more then a handful of people in a week and I know that I will long for this once I step of the plane in portland, but I think I'm ready to start school again, at least I hope I am. Other things I love : planes overhead, passing geese on the lake, the changing to fall, the take off in the morning, being in a float plane take off, the leaves blowing around, the sudden drastic change of weather here, the three day a week excitement for the mail, the four-wheeler, boat rides, seafood chowder night, new guest, lunch bag decorations, and last but not least room and board.

There is one thing though that I realized I wish I could have with this solitude and that is a companion (ironic right?), but I think thats just me blowing of steam from the occasional misunderstandings/conflicts between all of us here at the lodge. Not that I don't love everyone here because oddly enough they have become a sort of family to me, just that I wonder how it would be to plan to do something like this with someone, instead of running of on my own and just taking the chance of the draw of who I land with.

I guess the most important person I'll be planning things with is the person I chose to hike the pacific crest with me. Man, I've been thinking about that like no other. It appears that if I get my degree done by the fall of 2010, I can start the hike March of 2011 which means there isn't much time to find someone that wants to set aside 6 months of their lives to disappear into the woods, but hopefully I'll find them. I know they must be out there somewhere.

So what's really interesting is the phenomenology of these experiences of isolation (The Yukon River camp, the seven day/forty mile hike by myself, and Valhalla lodge) and what they have made me conclude about the nature of being. I think number one is that if I had no knowledge of the lemon-blueberry muffin, I would not desire one. So if I had no clue that Fred Myers was an everything store, I'd end up shopping at many different stores I guess. Knowledge is power but absolute power corrupts absolutely, so all knowledge maybe absolute corruption? St. Augustine would agree that it would be good to reframe from desires but since first you need the knowledge of the desire to know that you want it in the first place, I think that, yes, there is no doubt in my mind I'm a product of society.

Number two is that the pace of my stream of conscience can be drastically alerted when the largest form of entertainment/excitement becomes the traffic on Six Mile Lake (geese, village boats, spawning sockeyes, Magpies and varies other wildlife). What I find entertaining and interesting has thus become a breeze that touches, a sound of a rodent, a smell of the changing seasons, a sunset that highlights the mountains, and the taste of a silver salmon fresh from the streams. Basically just my five sense running on a slower beat then that of my constantly desired stimulated state of my civilized life.

Number three, which I think is a combination of both one and two with a added conclusion, I love the duality of my life (not to get Dacartes on you by no means, I do not think there is a separation between body and soul). But on the contrary, I love isolation as much as I love the random influx of people around me. The predictable and the surprising part of life. The cold and the hot. The bland and the spice. The comfortable and awkward. South, North, East and West, Time and Space, love and hate. But the state I desire the most and fill with joy when it graces me with its presences, is that of clarity which I am blessed with as I type this.