Identity in a Big City

I don't want to admit it, but on a sunny day like this in November, on the weekend with everyone running around having fun, I find that I really like Washington DC. The parts I've seen, the parts I like; they all seem "good" and wholesome. I know there is a sour history of gentrification all around the city, and I am a massive beneficiary of it, and that bothers me. But everything is just so god damn perfect, so... authentic.

The main street in the Mount Pleasant neighborhood.

But the notion of a perfect, or authentic, situation is total bullshit. That vision from Dupont Circle I mentioned above is only an illusion I cannot blind myself with. I cannot assume and ascribe my positive feelings to everyone in that park or in that neighborhood. I cannot ignore the plight of the homeless begging for change, or the small business that had to close, because neither of them could afford skyrocketing rents due to the rapid growth.

Strictly speaking, authenticity for a physical object has no value assigned to it. There is nothing inherently wrong or good with a physical object meeting a standard to which it is, or is not. We can afford to use binaries when it comes to physical objects in life.

Binary for a cat in a box: You collapsed the superposition of the cat, and, by observing it, you see it is alive.
Your binary outcome is: the cat is alive. The cat is not dead.

The conflict arises when people assign a values judgement to authenticity. And this does happen. How many times were you a tourist in a place and asked: "Where do the locals go? What is the 'authentic' <insert place here>? What are the 'real' things for this place?" I would argue there is an unconscious bias at play where people don't want the "fake stuff" because it isn't "true", and therefore, it isn't "good". But is it okay to use an authenticity binary when it comes to intangible experiences?

It's not fair to judge places and cultures as non-authentic, and therefore "bad", because they still are a lived reality for many people. To claim something is "authentic" is to assign a higher value to it. To demoralize the knock-offs and the phonies. But there are still people who enjoy and like those reproductions you are slanting. Claiming their experience is "not authentic" is to demean and eventually ignore or disregard their lived reality. Many people will "forget" the non-unique places they visit, and their thought process may be: "What's the use in remembering those places and cultures that aren't the truest and purest? They don't have anything to offer for me." (Should you think like this even if it provides joy and value to others who experience it?)

Tiny town of Martinsburg, right outside of the Altoona, PA Airport. Do you think this is a non-unique place?
Does this small town abide by your stereotypes of conservative backwater people who cling to their guns and religion, and therefore don't matter? Is it "authentic" in terms of being "American"?

How about 14th Street here in DC? Do you think this a non-unique place? Does this city shot look like a harbor of refuge in the reddening of our country via the election? To you does this look like the beacon of light on the hill, and is the only place/setting that matters to drive our country forward? Is it the most "authentic" (aka correct) in the American experience?

Here in DC the accelerated growth and migration into the city provides for the forgetting of previous residents' lived experiences. There are people moving in, prompting growth, pushing out, then denying other's lived experiences. The new dense development wrecks and drives out existing local businesses. Show owners simply cannot pay the new rents. Because of the new tenants' consumer preferences about needing "authentic" (not box stores) places to shop, cheap chain replacements cannot take hold (Walmart, Kmart, Dollar Stores, etc.), so even if low income earners can somehow keep/lock in their residence, you still can't afford to eat and shop in your neighborhood. The new growth pushes out old establishments, and ensures the low and middle class do not have a place, and cannot stay.

The place gets better, but only for those who can afford it. The others are forced to move the burbs.

Suburban Baltimore, Maryland. Where the houses are cheap, but the access is thin, and the services suck.

This is the crux for me: I really like the "new money" places, and I have the privilege to enjoy them. I'm white, therefore I fit in and conform with the "new" demographic. I'm solidly middle-class with my new job, so I have disposable income to spare at the "new" expensive "authentic" shops. I'm a male, who needs not to worry or care about my safety and well-being. I'm exactly what gentrification looks like.

Southwest Waterfront, a quickly gentrifying part of DC.

But I don't want to be that. I try to contribute to the remaining local institutions. I try to fight for inclusionary zoning and learn all I can about the history of where I am. But all the "new" aspects I like in these places have done harm to others. I am conflicted.

My front "lawn" in Vancouver, Washington

"So move to the burbs and do less harm there!" you may proclaim. But I hate the suburbs. I cannot deal with the car-centric, wide-open, wasteful lifestyles the design of the burbs demand. I especially cannot deal with those demands when the very suburbs lay at the city's doorstep. I gave it a whirl for two years, and I think that's why I eventually moved away. The inefficiency and boringness of it all really drained the life out of me. In order to do anything/go anywhere I had to drive on inefficient roads, or take inefficient light rail and a joke of a bus system. There was nothing immediately around my house except for more houses, and shuttered neighbors. The "neighborhood" looked like a small inviting town, but it was as shuttered and as isolated as a high-rise apartment complex. The politics were petty, and the identity lacking.

Example of petty politics: This damn bridge. As pretty as it's hundred year old steel is, it needs replaced. Yet the local governance rejected a replacement bridge mainly because it included light rail from Portland. There are some seriously ingrained racist and classist thoughts among the more conservative in Vancouver.

While I like to slam the suburbs, I will not say they are not "authentic". I mean, as I liked to say in college: They (the suburbs) exist for a reason, so somebody has to like living in them. And I'll take the high road. I will not discredit or insult the experience of living in a burb. It is nobody's place to slander another's lived reality. And therein lies my central conflict. How do I ensure that others have the option to live my experience? Or better yet, how do I work to ensure disadvantaged people get the chance to improve their communities without getting displaced and excluded in the process?

I have the very same above questions about Warren Wilson College. The answer for the school though is a little more simple. To help anyone who wants to experience the school I loved, I give money when I can, so it can go towards helping offer scholarships and opportunities for the students who need them.

The most important takeaway I can glean is that self-determination and empowerment are key here. What I want is to uncouple "development" from "displacement". I want those living in their communities to be able to decide how and where they want to entice growth. (Raising people out of poverty starts with those very people, not some external influence coming in to tell communities how to "get better.")

Me doing a "travel training" session with some employees at my former job. I teach people how to ride, and give them some possible tools and methods to succeed. They might not be entirely useful, but I'm trying my best.

I'll keep paying steep rents to live in a community I love, and in a city I adore. I'll frequent as many old establishments as I can, get all millennial and indulge in "hip" places every now and then, and indulge myself in generic corporate chain retail therapy when I feel like it. But mostly I'll keep to my regular routine: Buy the most affordable groceries I can find, fight for transit and access for all, and try to live my life as closely to me as I can.

A Looming Sense of Place, and A Reluctant Acceptance of Commitment

Well here we go again.

I have accepted a permanent position with the United States Department of Transportation, in the Office of the Inspector General's office. I applied for this position a while back, and after an interview, and some background checking, I have made the cut, and they offered me the position. It is a full-time position in the DOT headquarters in the beautiful Navy Yard/Ballpark area of DC. The offices are right by two of my favorite parks in DC, and the job is working on the audit side of things to evaluate the effectiveness of different transportation projects throughout the United States. Here's a view of the Anacostia Riverwalk and The Yards park, right south of DOT headquarters:

Because I've take a permanent position for the foreseeable future, the imminent questions of my decision to root in DC are coming to the forefront of my mind. Commitment is sort of terrifying for me. This time round it is doubly terrifying because I actually, genuinely, like the place I am in.

National Airport as seen from the Metro Station.

I have a desire to travel, and to see new and exciting places. But I also have a fascination with being a citizen of this limboland of a District, and the "impartiality" it holds by being governed by the federal government. (Although citizens are pushing for statehood in conjunction with the national election!) Everything here is so... "official". Back in Model UN in middle and high school I crafted a love to look to higher powers, rules, and regulations as a standard and guide for the "right" thing to do. Being in DC puts me in the center of the highest law in the land, and everything here, from the architecture, to the very people walking on the streets, reflects the fact that the buck stops here. (At least on a nation-state level. Internationally, that's a different story.)

Protests and tourists on Pennsylvania Avenue.

Yet my admiration for the "official" has shown me that it is systematically flawed, and needs to change. Thankfully we live in a country where, even though it may be extremely difficult, change can happen, and does happen. My experience in AmeriCorps showed me that all that is "official" is not "right", and that we need to help change the system to ensure the betterment of government for all people. Maybe that's why I am here? Maybe I've subconsciously chosen to be at the heart of the highest level of government to push for the change I want to see?

The Capitol at Sunset

I've started to pay attention more to the Metro system, and to become invested in why it is failing the populace so much. Little did I know moving here, I would be privy to using one of the worst maintained major public transportation systems in the United States. And I didn't bring a car, so it's definitely in my interest to make sure the rails are running well and are safe. It's amazing how broken Metro is right now, and how the "Nation's subway" has become old, dirty, and corroded. There are literal fires all across the system, routine red light violations, and more derailments and near miss collisions than I would feel comfortable talking about less I scare more people from using the system.

The designers must have engineered the system to look brighter in pictures than in real life. This is Friendship Heights station, one of the best maintained stations I've ever seen in the system (probably because it serves boutique, high-end luxury shops and hotels straddling the border between Maryland and DC.)

But I am becoming more and more committed. Thankfully, I've started making friends through the local DC Unitarian Universalist church (All Souls), and many of them are committed to making DC, the country, and the world a better place. I've also started finding community in them and the UU church, and that makes me much more content among this time of establishment, especially moving into the cold dark winter months.

So where do I go from here? I'm moving into a new(ish) chapter, starting a new position, and committing myself to a new city. Yet, my inner hopes and dreams fight against settling. Who knows though? Even though I was in the Northwest for two years (two years? Still can't believe I was out there that long), I ended up moving on from there. I've only been in DC for five months, not even an entire year, so there is still much, much more ahead. But as I said, I do really like it here, and, even though I can't quite explain it, I have an intense drive to start working for this transient urban megalith. I've nestled into a place I really, really, enjoy, and I find myself drawn to fight for it, and to make it better.

Heart of the local Mount Pleasant neighborhood. Possibly a place I may look to move one day. I love the Hispanic influence and population which has focused and moved into the neighborhood. 

Vespers, Movies, & Settling

Wow how time flies.

Here I am, mid-September, getting ready for the culmination of the Great Places in America project I've been working on, and faced with the coming dilemma of deciding what to do with the rest of my life. I've put it off successfully for another couple of months into early November, but eventually I will have to face the fact that I will need a new position to keep this DC gig up.

(More on that later.)

I do really like Washington DC. It's a really great city with a great culture. I have been happier here than any other place I can think of recently. Outside of my college experience (where I was surrounded by a structured schedule and flow of life) being in this city reminds me of the time I studied abroad in Barcelona. As much as I don't want to admit it, I think large, dense urban areas are the places I want to be right now.

Waterfront Park by the Navy Yard.

I don't like relegating myself to such constraints. It makes me sound elitist, pretentious, and like I'm too good for anything smaller or more intimate. And I'm not! I love visiting and seeing small cities. I really enjoy traveling, and experiencing as many places as I can. I just don't find myself happy in mid-sized to small cities. I don't know if it is one base reason, or a combination of reasons. I don't want to blame it on the car-centric model of development, but I really think that is what it is. Or maybe it's the petty politics and small-town doggedness that persists where a diverse population should propel people forward in terms of addressing larger issues. Maybe it's the lack of things to do, or places to see.

My personal favorite version of Metro architecture. The arches style.

I'm not quite sure, but all I know is that I'm happier here in DC than I have been in a while, and that feels nice. My curiosity drives me to know exactly why I am happy, but I should just sit back and enjoy it for a bit. Maybe it is just the honeymoon phase, and I'll grow dissatisfied with this city. I don't know really.


As I ponder of why I like it here so much, there have been many many things and events I've gone to that have helped me transition to this place much easier than I ever did in Vancouver. I've gotten involved with the Young Adults group at the local Unitarian Church. Just tonight I went to see Interstellar at the Natural History Museum IMAX with friends from the church. It was pretty amazing. While the act of watching the movie was mostly a solo act, the camaraderie of having people there you know is so much better than going by yourself.

A panorama of the Udvar Hazy Annex of the Air & Space Museum out in Northern Virginia

Speaking of "church", I'd like to let people know that I'm talking about Unitarian Universalists (UU) here. I'm not going to start getting all godly on folks. I haven't written too much about my personal beliefs here, and that's mainly because I don't quite know what I believe myself, and I'm personally terrified of eternity and death. So we're not going down that rabbit hole today. Just to wrap up: being a UU is all about being in a congregation together and exploring your beliefs rather than adhering to a strict dogma. You can read more on it here.

Finally, I'll wrap up this post with my first experience of a vespers service. (Sticking with the religion theme above.) I have only heard of vespers before, and never attended one, and I am so glad I went to this service. An intro: Vespers is basically an evening service that is lead by chanting, singing, and silence. It's a much more spiritual and inward looking service rather than the outgoing and exciting Sunday services. Basically I loved it.

I think vespers services are the more spiritual and ritualistic side of the UU tradition that I have been seeking. I don't think my church in Vancouver did evening services, but if they did I was missing out. As I was chanting along and singing along during the vocal parts, I felt as though I became a part of something greater than myself, and that everyone around me was participating in something that brought us together to acknowledge something greater.

When we came to the first bout of silence, it pounded on my eardrums. No outside noise, no huge crowds, only peace in the warmly lit sanctuary. The leader preached that with every chant to let it sink in and affect you more and more. I'm not sure what it was about the togetherness, but for some reason the practice set off some sort of brain chemistry and really made me feel something that I haven't felt before.

Panorama of National Airport

The one that sticks in my head the most is this chant:

Bountiful am I
Blissful am I
Beautiful am I

And I just have to think that I'm feeling that in my life right now, and it really puts me at ease.

Botanical Bikes and Baseball

I've been in a strange lull between feeling like a productive prodigy some days, and a stereotypical listless modern millennial on the others. So in typical fashion, instead of taking initiative after a fairly good work day, I'm going to write a fairly traditional update of a blog post highlighting what I've been up to.

Over the past couple of weeks (actually month and a half really), I've been up to some really cool stuff. Washington DC has so much to offer, see, and enjoy, and I've been relishing in the wonderful (sometimes excessive) warmth that the once marshy capitol has to offer.

Recently I went to go see the corpse flower in bloom at the United States Botanical Gardens. It didn't stink quite as bad as it had the day before, but it was still quite a site to see.

As the largest unbranched inflorescence in the plant kingdom, this plant grew to it's max to be 7 feet 4 inches. It was quite a site to see. Also, the spadix (the center of the plant) maintains around the human body temperature (98.6°) during bloom to help it spread it's stench to attract pollinators.

Another interesting part of the whole process was the botanical gardens had their botanist artists in residence drawing and sketching the plant for their records and documentation.

Another highlight of the past month was my first real live baseball game. I attended two games where the Pittsburgh Pirates faced off against the Washington Nationals (Nats for short). The first game, which the Nats won, was delayed for 40 minutes due to rain. The afternoon downpour reminded me of the daily storms we get in Ohio after a long, hot day. Afterwards though, there was a beautiful sight over Nationals Park:

I loved both games. I didn't quite realize how fun it could be to be at a game in person, and to enjoy the cheering, drink and eat ballpark food, and hear the noises up close and personal as bats hit the ball, and runners cleared the bases.


Finally, I took one of my longest (and best) bike rides on the entirety of the Capital Crescent Trail the past weekend. I set out later in the day on a Saturday, and took the Metro up to Silver Spring, Maryland where the trail begins. The temporary trail runs through a small neighborhood and ends up on a crushed gravel path for the first 4 miles from Silver  Spring to Bethesda. At one point the trail crosses an old railroad trestle across Rock Creek and gives you a great view of the creek and valley below:

As you enter Bethesda the trail enters what is known as "The Tunnel" (even though there are a couple of tunnels along the length of the trail. On maps I saw this part of the trail cutting through the literal center and downtown of Bethesda and I always wondered to myself how it did that. Well literally the downtown is built on an elevated platform to make the Metro station and bus bays work, and underneath all of that infrastructure is the bike path.

Once through Bethesda, the trail follows an old railroad bed down in a crescent shape (hence the name) to the Georgetown Waterfront Park. About halfway down the trail meets the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, and it's towpath, which people still hike on. (The towpath, mostly intact and usable, actually serves as a major trail leading into and across the Appalachian Mountains for serious trekkers.)

The canal also serves as a historic park with different historical sites to visit along the way, including the Abner Cloud House. Many people launch kayaking trips from here, and also use it as a good fishing spot. The entire canal (and bike trail) serve as a wonderful natural retreat from the stuffy and stately DC.

A look down the towpath. You can see the Capital Crescent Trail to the right, and the C&O Canal to the left.

Finally, when riding into Georgetown you come across views of the Key Bridge (named after Francis Scott Key), the Potomac, and the Rosslyn skyline (an unincorporated area just across from the District in Northern Virginia).

Key Bridge with the Washington Monument in the Background

Rosslyn Skyline

After all is said and done, I am finding so much to do and see in this area. Looking back on it, I am so glad I live in the District rather than in one of the suburbs in other states. I didn't realize how much I liked the dense urban grid, with it's good public transportation resources. (I mean Metro catches on fire, but it's still more frequent and useful than smelly old buses I would take in Vancouver.) I know I should try to evaluate a place based on it's own characteristics and not how it compares to other places. But I can't help compare it to Portland (or Vancouver).

The denser city and planning involved with it just makes so much more sense and is hella' more accessible. I haven't experienced this level of freedom and enjoyment out of a place since I lived in Barcelona, and that was only for six weeks. Does it get a little cramped? Yes. Does it get a little annoying not having solitude sometimes? Yes. But it's worth the trade off to be active, healthy, and to satisfy my sense of discovery every day. While I don't like to relegate myself to absolutes, it looks like it's going to be city living for me for at least a couple of years.

Capital Bikeshare and Exercise in the District

I have become addicted to bike riding. I'd forgotten how fun it can be to ride two wheels through a forest.

Actually, I only had that experience once, in an average sized park in Eastern Columbus. Needless to say, it was a glorified circle through the woods and the park. While I enjoyed it greatly, I did not have a vehicle to tote my bike to and from the park, and riding there and back would have been too long, and too dangerous of a trip. I did end up riding my bike around my hometown while I was in Ohio, before moving to college and dying on the hills.

I never knew what happened to that bike. It was a hybrid road/mountain bike, suitable for the dirt trails and concrete paths that crisscrossed the Warren Wilson campus. The bike survived the first two or so years of college, including being buried in three feet of snow during a torrential snow storm, and being left multiple places by a collegiate Nick who was too preoccupied with running around on adventures and making new friends. Come my junior year the bike just seemed to vanish from the summer hold. I think I spotted it around campus a couple of times, but it was now a part of the communal bikes of the college, to live on forever as spare parts or a refurb from the bike shop.

Georgetown Waterfront Park

Ever since then, I had not touched a bike or even thought about riding a bike. I developed a poisonous mindset about people who rode bikes and exercised. All the people I saw riding around in their spandex tights and neon logo shirts really got on my nerves. Why? Because I felt as though they were actively saying they were better than me and everyone else. They had the money to have fancy bikes, nice athletic clothes, and in my mind it seemed like most bike riders looked down as they passed other people walking or driving their cars, especially if said people were fat. The riders sporty glasses always seemed like they were angrily looking at me, and it seemed as though their minds were mentally telling me "Why aren't you doing this you lazy piece of shit?" This attitude stuck with me for all people doing any kind of physical fitness in public. Of course, these thoughts are nowhere close to being true. They were informed by the many childhood memories of being bullied and criticized. And of the relentless media message that I was never good enough.

A couple of weeks ago I had a paradigm shift. I went for an annual physical checkup, and my doctor diagnosed me as pre-diabetic based on my blood tests. My triglycerides were slightly elevated. Here I was, in a new city, walking more, eating healthier, and being overall happier. Since I had really cut back on the sweets and the unhealthy foods since Ohio, there was only one solid way to move forward: Exercise.

Because of my incorrect thoughts on people who exercise, I really, really, did not want to do exercise in the traditional "join a sweaty nasty smelling gym and be judged" method. After I researched up and down online, I could not find a sensible guide for how to start exercising. The top results consisted of fit people complaining about fat people taking up their machines, how to make sure you look the best to get the guy/girl when exercising, and how to not be judged when going to a gym. I couldn't find one article or any information about the regular logistics on what to buy, wear, or how to begin to go to the gym.

On top of the internet articles and my own perceptions, I think gyms are boring. There's nothing to do, nothing to see, and you're in a room with other people you don't really interact with. It seems like a terrible place to be, and that there are so many other places and exciting things people can be doing with their time. Even though my work has a very nice, very well air conditioned gym with lots of different equipment, these concerns have still prevented me from going. But then I discovered Capital Bikeshare.

Sunset on the Potomac

When you are in Washington DC it's hard not to see Capital Bikeshare (CB) bikes and stations. They are everywhere. People ride them everywhere. The stations seem to be on every street corner. And this is exactly why I decided to take the plunge and commit myself to a yearly membership. For the first month or so of me living here, I have seen all kinds of people using CB: Men and women in business suits doing small errand runs around the city; everyday hikers and residents using it to get from Point A to Point B; tourists using the bikes to ride up and down the National Mall and see the sights. Almost everyone I have seen using CB is not the stereotypical biker I have been use to for the past five years. The system really seems to be for anyone and everyone. This kind of exposure led me to join in. Because if I can see guys in suits riding alongside tourists in their vacation shorts, then this was a crowd I could feel comfortable riding with.

I have been using CB for about two weeks now, and I absolutely love it. I try to ride very day as much as I can. The system is ridiculously easy to use. Simply stick the key in the slot to unlock the bike, or use your credit card and get a code, and go. That's all there is to it. You don't have to worry about fixing the bike, maintaining it and all the equipment on it or anything. If there's ever a problem, you simply push the wrench on the stand when you put it back, and it gets fixed. I know this sounds like an infomercial, but that is pretty much the entirety this entire paragraph.

On top of being extremely convenient, CB also has done wonders for my health. I know it's cliche, but exercise does really make you sleep better and feel better. But before you start to turn away because you think I'm going to start spouting speeches like a fitness nut, please don't. I don't ride miles a day, and I still die on hills. I mostly ride downhill and on flat ground because it's all I can do. And I'm not going to push myself to do those in the foreseeable future. Goals are nice, but actually doing good things for your body is nicer, and there's no need to intimidate your mind into not doing anything with over ambitious goals or results. Right now I'm enjoying the wind in my hair, the adrenaline of going downhill at fast speeds, and seeing new places in the city without having to ride a hot and humid Metro to get there.

Finally, bikes are such a natural match to my desire to explore. On a bike I'm not static. I'm never in one place, watching a screen, or spinning a wheel. The wind carries the scents of the city, and my balance coordination and navigation skills lead me to places unknown. I've seen a sunset on the Potomac, the bustling of the National Harbor, the historic buildings of Anacostia, the woods along the Capital Crescent Trail, and the shores and islands of Arlington. All of it by bike, all of it fairly inaccessible by transit and walking alone.

Just today I was riding a bike down Pennsylvania Avenue towards the Southwest Waterfront after a heavy heat-breaking rain, and I thought to myself with the Capitol in view: "There's something nice about this. Something about it just... fits."

View from the Frederick Douglas House in Anacostia

A Weekend in Lancaster, Pennsylvania (Guest Appearance by Frederick, Maryland)

Last weekend I traveled to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I took the MARC commuter rail from Union Station to Frederick Maryland to meetup with my best friend to tote me to Lancaster.

Frederick is a small Maryland city about 40 miles outside of the city. Frederick is a wonderful town with a beautiful walkway and path on either side of the creek. The path leads up to the downtown area and there are fountains that shoot water around the creek and in path-side fountains.

After arriving in town I had some time to kill, so I went to one of the three local records shops. After lounging around for a bit, I headed over for some coffee, and finally met up with Ona. We had a lovely dinner at a local restaurant and then headed for Lancaster.


Ona booked us an Airbnb in Lancaster, and we pulled in around 10 or so. Thankfully, the door was a keyless entry, which was pretty neat. Just type in a code and ta-da! We were were in! The house was a beautiful old mid-rise rowhouse, with narrow stairwells leading up to our second floor landing room. The buildings in Lancaster were all so historic and magnificent. All having their own stories tucked into their recesses and alcoves.

On the day of the wedding we headed out for an early start. We got coffee and a wonderful breakfast at Commonwealth on Queen in the heart of downtown.

One thing I was not suspecting Lancaster of having was the amount of diversity; one could see the range of people simply walking around town. For a town that I had only thought of as Amish country and a small hamlet, the city held much more than I was expecting. I saw an "ethnic hairstyles" salon, and a Latin@ shop/grocery on our walk to breakfast. Later that night we would get pizza at a place that offered a "Spanish" menu as well. I had to start looking up the demographic numbers for Lancaster, and I was taken aback by the percentages. A little over half of Lancaster city proper is white.

The wedding came, and I found myself wondering if I had dressed well enough for the occasion. I hadn't been to a wedding since I was a child basically, so I was curious if I had the right clothes. Thankfully I fit right in, and the ceremony and celebration was fairly informal (the first portion had taken place outside of Portland a week earlier with a much bigger crowd).

Marriage brings with it the "traditional" idea of "settling down". I've been out of college for tw- three years now, and the idea of taking a position somewhere permanently and setting up shop for...ever really terrifies the hell out of me. Ever since I left college I've been on "assignments" that were only slated to last a specified amount of time. I'm on an assignment now, slated to go until November. Sure, it's not ideal for the future, but more than simply gaining experience, I really do not like the idea of picking a point on the map and calling it a day for the rest of your life. I don't want to call Columbus Ohio home for the rest of my life. I don't want to call Vancouver or Portland my home for the rest of my life. There are too many places to see to simply settle down. Consistency is for the birds.

It tears at me. Resisting what's been bred into you through your Midwestern upbringing is tough.

Thinking about this brings up memories on conversations I've had before. There's always mention of "when I get a permanent position". I know that it makes me terrible for job applications (henceforth why I don't share this blog directly with potential employers), but I feel much more comfortable seeing positions that have defined timelines rather than an opaque mystical "you will work for us forever." Especially if I want to see a new place. What if I don't like it there? Can I ever learn to like a mid-sized city again? How about rural areas? I seem so happy to be in Washington D.C., our nation's capitol, with it's tons of stuff to do, see, and experience. But I don't know if I want to stay here forever either.

It's easy to get wrapped up in these thoughts, especially when there is such a close horizon date. But I have to just slow down and remind myself: I'm here until November. That's three months more than the usual intern. Think of all the time I'll have to enjoy the city and discover myself a little more. With that I just go to sleep and dream of where the Metro will take me tomorrow (if it is even working), and enjoy what I have right now.

A Hike on the Mall

Yesterday I took an adventure onto the National Mall. That large strip of open space (sort of) that is filled with museums, and takes up the entirety south of Downtown DC.

I titled this section as a "hike" on the mall because if any of you have ever been foolish enough to think you would be able to dart around and pop your head in the museums, I'm sure you were proven wrong with the first attempt you took at wayfinding your way to your destination. The sign posts and directions make it look easy. But layer on a half a mile walk with blistering hot sun and little shade, and by the time you walk to your destination, it feels much more like a hike.

Needless to say, the National Mall is a wonderful place. There is such a concentration of history, art, and monuments to fill a lifetime of simple wandering, let alone one day if you have that. Actually, my advice for the Mall if you have a limited amount of time during a day (say a couple of hours): Pick one museum you want to explore, and explore only that museum/place. If it is a longer amount of time half a day or over 5 hours, make it a dense museum (American History/Air & Space/Natural). If it is shorter (2-5 hour layover) make it an art gallery. And for the love of goodness use this wonderful bus called the DC Circulator. It drives up and down the Mall with 10-20 minute frequencies, and hits all of the high points, and only costs a dollar. And it's air conditioned, which you will want for visiting DC in the coming months. (Much better than hoofing it with whatever you are lugging around.) Keep in mind too: Certain Smithsonian museums have lockers that you can use for free to stow larger bags (and smaller ones!) so you don't have a heavy companion with you around the museum the whole time. Use them.

Anyways. Enough of Nick's tips. Back to the Mall hike.

After work I shored up and decided to walk to the Washington Monument and the Constitutional Gardens. I strolled over to the White House and partook in some great people watching for a bit. Then I commenced the hike down the ellipse and onto the grounds of the Monument. Rolling up, I came upon a realization: The things in DC are much, much bigger in real life than they look in pictures.

Those specks at the bottom of the monument, right under the flags, are people.

I really had no aim for the afternoon, so I decided to head westward towards the Lincoln Monument and the associated gardens and landscape features there. It ended up that the Constitutional Gardens were under construction (like so many things on the Mall are right now) and off limits. So I walked to the World War II memorial. There were giant fountains, and tall marble pillars with each state and territory etched on them with a giant steel wreath commemorating the people from each state who lost their lives in the war.

There were also lots of people here, especially school aged kids, running around, taking selfies in front of their state memorial, and blatantly not really getting the point of the area. I have a lot of feelings about this, especially since memorial day was the day before. There were flower wreaths and handmade memorials in place from the ceremonies the day before, and it seemed like the memorial was more of a hangout space rather than a space of... memorial and reverence. Later on I walked passed (did not look up close) at the Vietnam memorial, and there the guides were saying to their school children to be quiet, do not disturb people, and respect the space. But here there was no control. It's weird how time works isn't it?

The area with the fountains and the star memorial was way too loud for me to hang around for very long, so I headed off towards the Lincoln memorial and the reflecting pool.

The closer I got to the Lincoln Memorial, the more and more people there were on the steps. It was like tour groups galore. I also saw the many tour buses carrying said people, all lined up in their select spots, and I thought to myself: Ohh. This is a gathering spot for tourists to return to their buses...

Once I hung around the Lincoln Memorial for a bit, saw the Washington Monument in the reflecting pool, I decided it was time to call it a day and head home. Except I didn't really want to walk back to a metro stop, so I searched for the closest Circulator stop. There is one at the Lincoln Monument, but it's not where Google Maps says it is. Beware, it's on the Southwest corner of the building (exact opposite of the above shot), and it's kind of hidden away, so give yourself plenty of time before you go to catch the bus back.

While I was waiting, I saw people on the back of the Lincoln Monument sitting and looking out over the Potomac. Oh yeah! The river! And when I looked back to see what they were looking at, I caught a glimpse of the sun setting behind Rosslyn, and I thought to myself: What a wonderful view:

Soapstone Trail & Pierce Mill

I made a wonderful discovery the other day: My apartment sits right beside a trail access into Rock Creek Park here in DC. Rock Creek Park is a large urban forested park that runs North to South in DC's Northwest Quadrant. I live right beside a lesser known access trail: The Soapstone Valley Trail. A 30 minute walk takes you down wooded trail, out of the dense metro area, and into the quiet valley, beside the gurgling unnamed stream that flows into Rock Creek.

The further you go, the stronger the stream gets. Eventually you need to rock-hop across the stream a couple of times. You will be trekking down the path, and it will simply end in the stream with no apparent access up or out of the area. That's your cue to start looking around for the access on the other side, then connect the dots across the rocks to get there. Sure, it's not adventurous as holding a line and shimmying across a water outflow coming down a volcano, but it's better than the squares of green you get in the heart of the city.

Once you work your way through the valley, you are awkwardly spit out on the road. There are no marked crossings, but the other paths are a short walk away. The next step is the much busier Western Ridge Trail, which leads you down the... Western Ridge of Rock Creek. It's only another half a mile until you hit Pierce Mill, the last historical mill on Rock Creek.

The mill itself.

There is an entire park complete with picnic tables, grills, and historical signs around the mill itself. Keep in mind, this is all run by the National Park Service, so it's bound to have the good stuff for the public.

A decorative dam. I guess to make it look pretty?

From Pierce Mill you can continue on the trail towards the National Zoo. This portion of the trail does follow the main road (Beach Road) through the park, so it is not nearly as interesting or peaceful as the Soapstone Trail, but it is paved, and provides separate access from the traffic, which in DC is a godsend. There is a a portion where the trail crosses Rock Creek, and flips so that you are no longer with traffic. I got a snapshot of the creek from Bluff Bridge:

I ended my journey in Woodley Park where I took the bus back up Connecticut to my apartment. One thing I didn't quite comprehend in my travels is that I was winding down into a valley, and that there was going to be a climb back up to the main drag (Connecticut Ave.) Coming back to Woodley Park, I got some great shots of the two massive bridges that tower over the creek and connect NW to the core:

Calvert Street Bridge

Connecticut Avenue Bridge

The walk up the hill to the Metro stop & neighborhood was extremely steep, and as an ironic addition to the mix, there was an "exercise" parkour course halfway up the hill. Not really appealing after walking 3 miles on a muggy day (although there were people running their way through!)

One thing that I missed the most about the East Coast is it's forests and their smells. Especially the Southeastern Appalachian forests. I know that DC is right on the border of the North & South, and is not in the mountains, but the forests are definitely the same. On a muggy day the trees emanate a freshness unlike any other place I have been. The birds calling and the twigs snapping with the local rodents. The closeness of the canopy, and the earthy smell coming from each step you take. It's something I lived with everyday for four years of my life at Warren Wilson, and it's something that I am glad to have back on demand right outside my doorstep.

Metro or No Metro?

I've been in Washington DC for about a week now. My new job is awesome, the city is crazy and stately, and I've been walking and taking transit everywhere. I can't help but love my life right now.

But it's times like these that make me feel weary. I"m enjoying it, yes, but I shouldn't be enjoying it this much should I? It's almost like things are too good. It's the uncanny valley of emotion.

Now I know I shouldn't be doubting my experiences, but my guttural feeling is that something in the background is going on, and I'm not quite privy to it. But I feel as though that's a healthy attitude to have wherever you go, and with whatever you do. To be self critical and reflective is to ensure you stay on track.

Being in such a large metro (with basic high-rises, and no skyscrapers) may be giving me this feeling. I mean, the tallest building in town is the Washington Monument after all. DC doesn't necessarily "feel" like a large metro. All buildings are capped, and you can see much of the sky. It's not like you are holed in by the megalithic glass structures of New York City or Chicago. Yet the population of the metro area is over 6 million people. Where do they fit all of the workers who come into the city? I know D.C.'s footprint is larger than other urban centers, but when you have skyscrapers in New York that hold thousands of people, how can 12 story buildings compare? Especially when lots of DC itself is single family homes and neighborhoods.

Then I have to remember, the statistical area (and service via regional transit) stretches all the way 70 miles into Martinsburg West Virginia. I can literally take an outbound transit train into the same state that touches my homestate of Ohio. That's how large this area is. (And it extends far into Northern Virginia as well.)

This metro region is strange, and it's amazing how far it stretches. But for now, I'm staying in the District, eager to discover all the places there are to see around the city.

An evening on 17th

Metro Center Station, with it's iconic architecture of overlapping tunnels.

A Washingtonian Still

Well here I am. I have officially transitioned from West Coast to East Coast. Three hours ahead, and 2800 miles apart. It's amazing to think of all the places I've seen.

And now I am in the nation's capitol. My first impressions are stately. Buildings do not exceed 130 feet, making for one of the lowest skylines in America. Clearly dominated by the monuments and the parks. Greenery is everywhere, pedestrians are everywhere, and life is everywhere. The city pulsates with the ebs and flows of morning and evening rush. Vehicles, security, trains and all.

I work on the 7th floor of a lavish office building. All the amenities are modern, clean, and crisp. My apartment is older, but still functional and a great place to live. The neighborhood is green, friendly, and ridiculously urban and gentrified. I don't know quite how to feel about that, possibly more on that later.

I am so amazingly privileged. I have a family that loves and supports me, friends who do the same, and a killer sense of adventure to lead me to new places. Once again in my life I feel as if though I'm awake, and I am really enjoying the past, present, and moment. I feel like me again, and I am so grateful for that.

Lafayette and the White House

This blog will archive my six months in the nations capitol. My goal is to experience all I can while I live here, and to make in roads to future places and areas where I may want to work. I'm putting the fact that I am only here until November out of my mind for now. I feel at capacity again, and that my life is once again on track for greatness and experience.