So There I was: The Long Road to Texas. by Tony Cullen

The Choice

So there I was, in the office of my two bosses with a circa 1980’s G.I. desk standing between us. The desk was hardly noticeable, covered and sagging under the weight of 3 decades worth of paperwork growing infinitesimally taller with each passing day. The office cluttered with work undone and documents that never pretended to have value. It was here that I was to make my stand and tell them I would be resigning this summer.

That is where the roots of my summer took hold. It was March and I just got back from visiting another potential graduate school. This time it was Texas Tech University located in hot, dry, and dusty Lubbock, TX (admittedly not my first choice for places to move or universities to attend). I can still recall a parting conversation I had with an intern years ago that haunts me now. “Well if you are ever in Texas let me know,” she cheerfully stated. My cynical response “I can’t foresee that happening but if I do I will let you know.” Hindsight being what it is I can only chuckle now. Little did I know that I would find my advisor and lab mates to be pretty cool people and if I had to be stuck in Texas getting my masters, these are the people that will make it enjoyable.

After a short, fruitful trip to Lubbock the choice was clear to leave my job with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to pursue a master of science in biology. I was excited at the prospect of learning the ecology of plants (my first love) in the southwest and with those plants come fire ecology (my second love).

Time to Talk

In New Jersey, the refuge manager is a pleasant, bumbling man with the mind of a packrat. He holds on to memories just as tight as the paperwork pile in his office (as his long-winded stories and sentimentally decorated walls would imply). He collects his employees just the same. Dainty little items kept within his reach for his disposal. He hates to lose employees regardless of the circumstance. In contrast, the second in command at the park, who is my direct supervisor, is shrewd, sneaky and calculating. He speaks in a condescending manner. He is the type of person you do not confide in. It seems he is always trying to mine you for private information about colleagues or constantly checking the status of assigned duties. He does not trust his employees as much as they do not trust him. How could I tell them I was leaving??

Well, it was actually a very easy decision. My bosses are textbook micromanagers, which,  most of the time, makes my job very tedious. In addition, I had been there for over 10 years and felt stagnant; there seemed no new opportunities to grow. The hard part was leaving a good paying job with health and retirement benefits as well as the security of having a steady job in a terrible market for employment opportunities. Not to mention the uncertainty of returning to school and the changes it would present.

“Well guys,” I paused to take a breath as the tension in the room grew “I decided that I am going to Texas Tech for graduate school”. In what would otherwise be a joyous occasion I felt reluctance on their part as they both moved forward to congratulate me. Well perhaps my friends and family will have a different reaction….

No, it was much of the same. This superficial happiness but this underlying stress. I felt lost. Fortunately for me I have a very supportive wife and two great kids that make me smile daily. So what’s the problem? I had to leave them behind for a year in order to make things work. That was the hardest decision for me.

The Parting

At this point you may be wondering why in the world would I have to leave my family behind. They surely could come with, yes? Well this is where being an adult has its disadvantages, making adult decisions. The long and short of it is my wife is a teacher and has all of her time invested in NJ. What this meant for us is she had 9 years into a pension system that requires 10 years in order for her to collect it when she retires.

The choice was obvious, however emotionally painful. We are pragmatic and knew what would be best in the long run. The plan was for me to move down to Texas at the end of August. The family would come down to join me once her school year was up. Pragmatism aside, our fear and anticipation of the end of summer were palpable. Nothing could stop the stream of tears that day as we said our goodbyes; the kids to young to fully grasp what was going on. It would be a daily effort in mindfulness not to feel sad realizing I wasn’t apart of my family’s daily life.

The summer itself was a blur of packing, organizing, saying farewells and parties to celebrate friendships. This summer was typified by extremes, busy and sad, unproductive and happy. As I sit here now and finish this narrative I think how fortunate I am to have a few supportive people in my life in a sea of doubt. They’re the ones who could see through the difficulties of this situation and remind me it’s not the end of the world. I am also thankful for the invention of skype and airplanes, which allow me to journey home with ease, if only for a little while.

From the Slopes of Mt Elgon: A Trip Within A Trip: Part 1 Mud Huts and Elegant ...

Hello Everyone,

Below is a link to Therese and Mike's blog from Africa. This is Part one of a Three Part story.

It is well worth sharing, plus it starts with "So there I was..." Go to or Join their blog to see the other parts.

Enjoy,

Craig

From the Slopes of Mt Elgon: A Trip Within A Trip: Part 1 Mud Huts and Elegant ...: So there I was…along with about 70 Ugandans on a muddy slope pushing a coach bus up a hill that was stuck in a rut about a foot deep as the ...

So There I Was; eyes in the dark. by Mike Deluca

So there I was…

…frozen between fear and excitement in the immediate presence of such a prehistoric and potentially dangerous creature.  With the absence of moonlight, the darkness that surrounded me was suffocating and I clung to the beam of light produced by my headlamp like a man-overboard to his rescue line.   My fear prevented me from both movement and breath.  Instead I focused on the beam, which was intern, focused on two reflecting diamonds in front of a mass of bulky shadow.  Those eerie shinning eyes peered back at me uncertainly.  They occasionally looked away as if searching for a means of escape, only to focus right back to mine. 

In hindsight, I probably should have turned the light off, but I was too afraid to loose sight of those eyes.  I knew that I could not walk any closer because I might provoke it, but neither could I turn and run.  I was already too close.  Running, even moving, could spook it into chasing me.  And it would undoubtedly win the race.  There was only one thing I could do.  Freeze.  With my whole being I silently urged those eyes away.  It needed to know I was of no threat and become tired of the stalemate.  I had no other move except stillness and patience, but every second made my knees weak and my heart pound.  The jungle walled me in on either side impenetrably, and the road was not wide enough for us both to cross.  It would have to turn back, crash through the jungle, or crash through me.  But how long until it decided?  The road to my camp was only a short distance away, a few hundred yards maybe, but those eyes prevented me from approaching any closer. So there I was, frozen.

Many weeks back, Therese and I had planned this trip within a trip.  The school we were volunteering with was on holiday and if we were going to do any in-country travel, this was our best window.  We set-out for a cross-country road trip through Uganda.  Very exciting!  Our trip would take us from the eastern border with Kenya north where Uganda borders South Sudan, then south-west along the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo, (formerly known as Zaire and arguably the most lawless dangerous failed state of Africa) before rounding south-west to the capital in Kampala and the coast of Lake Victoria.  The trip, done almost entirely by public transport, (which is an adventure in and of itself) introduced us to many interesting people and took us to many exciting places. 

Arguably the most notable being Murchison Falls National Park, Uganda’s largest protected area at 3,840 square kilometers.  It’s biggest attraction, and namesake, being Murchison Falls; a narrow cleft between two ancient unmovable rocks where the great Nile River passes with a thunderous fury.  In addition, it hosts an abundance of wildlife not seen in North America except behind bars or stuffed and mounted on walls.  The parks history is almost as turbulent as the falls for which it is named.  Senseless rebel activity by the lunatics of the Lords Resistance Army (LRA) in the north spilled into the park, closing it for most of the beginning to the 21^st century.  Poaching dwindled its numbers but in recent years the rebels have been pushed out into the Congo and the numbers have begun to rebound. 

After a day of touring the park and its unbelievable assortment of wildlife, Therese and I went outside the lodge where we were camped to find a place to eat.  The “canteens” are local little spots in the park where local people (park rangers, lodge staff, drivers) go to get local meals (rice, beans, matoke) and pay local prices (25%- 50% of what whites pay in lodges/camps).  We knew of a place not far from our camp that we had seen the day before and set out at dusk.  We found the spot and ate a great hot meal with cold beer (Nile Special of course).  It was also in a haphazardly constructed bamboo hut with plastic lawn chairs and no lights.  I used my headlamp with my water bottle to make a shaky bluish lantern from which to see our food.  I noticed we were the only “muzungus” present and almost everyone else was Park Staff.  They seemed to take absolutely no notice of us in the corner with our funny little light. 

As we finished eating darkness set in.  The change over from day to night happens in an instant in equatorial Africa; or so it seems.  It’s as if all the light from the sun is sucked to the other side of the world once the sun makes its journey over the horizon.  By the time we were ready to leave, the sun was gone and the moon had set with it.  Furthermore, thick cloud cover even snuffed out the stars! 

We had our headlight, and as we walked back to camp we half jokingly reminded each other of the dangers that existed outside.  But one in particular concerned us most.  We new the big cats (lions, leopards, cheetahs) were active at night, but they were mostly on the other side of the Nile from us.  Granted, we were only about a half a km from the bank, but those cats don’t swim.  Something else does though; something that kills more Africans than any other.  To be fair, it kills less people than malaria mosquitoes or humans with machetes, Kalashnikovs, or automobiles.  Regardless, what really concerned us at that moment was a Hippopotamus encounter! And that is exactly the situation we found ourselves in!

Weighing up to a ton or more and capable of reaching speeds up to 40 kilometers an hour on land, a hippo is a force to be reckoned with.  They are even more dangerous in water where they are good swimmers, thanks to their webbed feet, and can be extremely territorial.  Their ivory teeth can grow up to a foot long while their jaw has the power to snap through bone like it was a pencil.  Not particularly bright, they are spooked easily and apparently mow down anything in their way. 

All of these warnings I had heard about previously and now they raced through my mind as quickly as my heart pounded in my chest.  Time, like me, was frozen. My eyes locked and my body tensed with anticipation.  My stomach released a familiar little gurgle of adrenaline erupting into my chest, sending my body a shot of energy that seemed to shiver with electricity.  Or maybe the “gurgle” was me about to shit myself and the electric shiver was actually body shaking with fear.  Who can say?  All I know was that I kept my focus on that beam of light as it reflected the shimmer of those eyes back to us.

Then, as if it had finally made its decision, it turned and lumbered off into the jungle by some unseen path on its way back to the river.  I took my first breath in an eternity and quickly walked the short distance back to the camp.  I walked straight to the bar and ordered a double shot of cheap Ugandan Bond 7 whiskey, which I have taken to calling a “007”, but really only with Therese because no one else would get it.  She remains thoroughly unimpressed.  After my hand stopped shaking I told the African bartender James, a good man who literally grew up inside the park, my harrowing encounter.  He smiled that warm white-toothy smile that I have grown quite accustomed to in recent months, and congratulated me.  He very quickly moved on with his evening and not another word regarding the incident was uttered.

Now, many days later, and a whole host of additional adventures had, I am back in the stunning mountains of Bududa.  After more than 9 days traveling there and back again, those familiar mountains have come to feel like home.  The feeling of relief and appreciation I felt when Therese finally pushed open the cast iron door to our home and the lantern’s warm light filled the room was sublime.  Our overland travel was hard and uncomfortable.  It was a true adventure, and in the paraphrased words of my man Mark Twain, the experience was great, partly because it was worth doing but chiefly because I know that I shall never have to do it again.  Perhaps there is no better way of summarizing a close encounter with a hippo in the dark moonless night of the African bush.            

          

Burls Out, by James Eger

...so there I was in the Avitar Glades, staring at the largest burl in Canada, and maybe one of the biggest in the entire world.  It sits about 15 feet up an old growth cedar and is about the size of a 1950's Cadillac...or maybe a vw bus.  One absolutely ginormous 2000 year old tumor, quietly presiding over a truely magical forest that started growing before the advent of Christianity, before white people existed in North America, and before the Vikings pillaged and burned all they could...which brings me to my final thought: "so there I was, burls deep in the forest..."


by James Eger

Dream World

Seconds before a call from Lindsey woke me up I had a strange dream this morning. I was in a long hotel style hallway, yet standing outside a door where I knew Therese and Mike lived. They came walking down the hall absolutely exhausted from the plane ride from Africa. I was ecstatic about seeing them and gave them very big hugs (awkwardly long ones, but it wasn't awkward in my dream world). Lindsey was there as well then suddenly Kellen was in the scene. This changed everything. I knew this was not supposed to be this way. To see him felt like a gift. I grabbed him and hugged him for what felt like several “dream-minutes” while sobbing and balling my eyes out. I was stuck in between pure happiness and deep sadness. I didn't want to ever let go. 

Then suddenly, as only happens in dreams, Lindsey and I were in the back of a pickup truck and we drove passed Kellen on a street corner sitting on a large rock, chatting it up with a stranger. I still clearly remember thinking that this is what he does but I just wanted him all to myself and I did not want to lose him again. I then became okay with this as we drove on. But all I felt was the need for him to be with me.

We ended up at a giant outdoor gear store (obviously), and as Lindsey and I jumped out of the back of the truck, - low and behold - Laura Curtis was there. I asked "Hey, do you work here?" She replied with "No." in a laughing shocked tone. Laura, Lindsey and I wondered around this giant multi-level store looking at all the latest outdoor equipment, none of which I could focus on because the entire time I was looking around watching for Kellen to reappear. I wish I could describe what I was felling as I was looking around for Kellen. It was like watching for what you knew to be impossible but hoping that each person you saw was going to turn around, look at you,  and smile.     

If only dreams could come true.

I 'm guessing I miss my friends..............................and gear.