Thoughts from Truckee

We made great time, barely hitting any traffic. It felt a little foreboding to be honest, to miss so much of the crowds on a holiday weekend. One of the new rules is babies aren’t supposed to be in their car seat for more than 2 hours. So we stopped just outside Sacramento. The gas station was right off the freeway, and full of… colorful characters. I told my wife to lock the car while she nursed and I went to use the restroom, which the attendant had to buzz me in to use. Once we set off again, our baby girl definitely gave us the look of “really, you’re still keeping me in this thing?” We didn’t have to stop after that, arriving in Truckee, and the cabin, before sundown.

The cabin… it was surreal driving on 80 as we neared Truckee. I remembered various spots on the road, the lonely gas station, where Boreal was, the commercial train across the valley. I watched those things as we passed them by as a kid, riding in the back seat with my aunt and uncle. They were gracious enough to take me up to Tahoe often when I was growing up, both in the winter and in the summer. I made the familiar turn off the highway and headed up to their Tahoe Donner neighborhood. The turns came naturally, as if I could feel my way in return. We arrived. When I first saw it, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. This cabin was a place of adventure for me as a youth, a place in which I felt comfortable and cared for, but still somewhere foreign, where I learned about harsh winters and the snow, life at elevation, and so much more.

I gained a lot of independence here. My aunt taught me to swim in the pool at my house, but she would take me to the community Northwoods Pool, and I was “off on my own,” with no friends but free to explore. I learned archery here in the summers, and did rock climbing trips with the local kids. And in the winter I learned how to snowboard, that surreal sensation of floating down the mountain on fresh powder. In many ways, it was here that I grew up and became independent, separate from my parents.

I unlocked the front door and faced the familiar mud room - it was here that I first learned what a ‘mud room’ was. The familiar dining table was just beyond, where I had many coming of age conversations with my uncle. I turned to the left to find a completely redone kitchen and living room. The cabinets and counters were brand new, and the sunken floor of the living room was gone, leveled off to the sliding glass door and large windows. It felt familiar yet strange.

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Admiring the scenery at Donner Lake

People were very friendly, but I’m pretty sure most side-eyed us as I pushed the bassinet stroller along the trail. I guess no one takes little babies on hikes through the forest. 

But it was blissful. The excessive bumps and jiggles of the trail rocked our baby girl to sleep, and pushing the stroller gave me a better workout. I remember looking up and seeing the trail wind ahead, silhouetted by towering trees all around us… the snow dripped mountains resolute in the distance, with nothing but us and the sounds of the forest. 

We love nature. We belong in nature. Visiting Truckee has brought us to it again.

We’ve also been doing a digital detox while up at the cabin. We haven’t turned on the TV at all, and we’re staying off ‘the algorithmic internet,’ as Cal Newport calls it. For me, that means no Reddit, no ESPN, no social media. Resorting back to using our phones for only 5 things: calls, texts, photos, maps, and music.

I found this “cabin chill” playlist on Spotify and it’s been so relaxing and fitting. Soft slow sounds that seem to soak up the wooden walls and wooden beams high up on the ceiling. It helps fully transport us to this cabin retreat.

The cabin creaks and settles. It’s a different type of building, a different experience staying here. These little differences would be unnoticeable if we were plugged in.

I sat out on the deck with my baby girl near dusk while Mommy took a shower. It was incredibly peaceful to sit there with my daughter, listening to the sounds of the forest. She is fascinated by trees. I counted over 50 with her, just within our immediate field of view. We heard the birds and the squirrels, felt the wind gently pass through our glade. I felt the forest then, even the bears and the deer and the coyotes and cats, all the birds and owls and squirrels… you just know when you’re in a forest. It feels… enclosed and sheltered, but vast… immersive but connective. How wonderful we enjoy a world with forests.

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Downtown Truckee on a beautiful May day

Happy Chill Morning mix for Spotify to start the day. I got to spend time with baby girl while we let Mommy sleep some more. Just us on Great Grandma’s quilt with the woods outside. It’s amazing how much she’s learned in 15 weeks. She now plays, with toys, with you. I love playing with her. 

Diced tomatoes and spinach and cheese in scrambled eggs over toast for breakfast, along with our trusty French Press once again. I guess we’re those kind of people now, bringing our fresh coffee beans and grinder and French press. Simple hearty breakfast with fresh hot coffee, just the three of us isolated in our mountain cabin. I want for nothing more.

I heard my daughter’s first laugh today. I was walking up the stairs, bringing diaper cream to Mommy who was changing her, when she started. Hastening up the final steps, I hurried to the edge of the bed where she was being changed, just giggling away at the wind from the open window blowing on her bare bottom. It lasted all of 15 seconds, and I cried. We shared the joyous moment together, just the three of us. I didn’t have my phone to take a picture or video, and I didn’t need it. It was a private moment just for us.

We did our first walk with baby girl facing outward in the carrier. It was just behind the cabin, in the trailway between the open backyards. I’d say maybe 25 minutes, a half a mile. But she liked it, and that was the measure of success. In a way I felt more a Dad than ever, shielding her face from the sun (hats are still strictly off limits for miss high maintenance), walking carefully over the trail, one hand under her bottom, one across her chest. It was a walk in the woods with a new family, and in some mystical sense, I felt it was a rite of passage. A modern generation living a life of convenience, but walking amongst the trees with baby in tow, like so many thousands of generations before…

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Looking back at the ponds from Cold Stream Drive

She’s started to give us this look when we put her in the carseat, like “where now?” So much adventure for a new family of three over the past few days. Adventure for all of us, Mom and Dad trying to learn how to do all of it all over again with a baby now, and for baby girl herself, her first time for so many things… her first road trip, first bumpy rumbly hike, her first outward-facing walk in the woods, her first stay away from home… her first time at elevation, first time in a forest with the breeze ruffling her hair and sweet baby skin. First time in a foreign place for multiple days… “we’re still here?!” 

It’s been adaptation for all of us. Particularly baby girl, who we couldn’t have asked more from. But also for us, learning that she’s okay, that she can handle change and variation and less than ideal conditions. 

It’s also been listening to perfectly timed playlists, looking out the windows to the forest beyond, just soaking in the essence of the cabin. Up in the mountains, you don’t need TV or internet.  You need your connection to your tribe, which we’ve maintained these past few days, but there’s something about the reclusive lounging, the disappearing far away high up in the mountains, that’s suited us. It may be gone tomorrow, once we enter the hustle and bustle of the Bay Area. But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t something to learn up here, just the three of us, “hiding” away, learning and growing together as a family.

This was special. It’s been a reconnection to nature, to our roots of humanity, but also a journey. There’s only more learning ahead, based on all the learning that’s happened rapid-fire so far.

Truckee is beautiful. California is awesome—don’t let the media or Texans or anyone else tell you different. It’s amazing we have these mountains and lakes high up on the border, just here to enjoy and bask in their pristine glory. Keep Tahoe blue for sure. Visit nature. Explore. This is what makes us human, even with a baby in tow. Thank you Tahoe, thank you pacha mama, and thank you God, the universe, whatever we call this miracule we get to enjoy and explore.

First Time in Wisconsin

The locals tell me it’s gray all day every day this time of year. I’m sure that gets old, but it’s so different than California, I’ve enjoyed experiencing it. It’s flat here; you can see for miles in every direction as you drive down the highway. There’s a sense of community in the signs and billboards. Sure there are the typical chains, CVS and Walgreens and fast food, but there are also many more locally owned establishments dotting the road. People here personify the typical friendly American, full of smiles, quick for conversation, professing a pleasant demeanor.

I’m eager to learn and experience more; this is where my father-in-law’s family is from, meaning I’m now a part of this place too, in some small way.

They love their sports teams here, and there are big sports teams, unlike most other rural states: three professional teams and, of course, the University of Wisconsin. Even though my beloved 49ers just played an atrocious game at Lambeau Field, it was still an awesome experience at one of the premier sports venues in the world. There’s history and tradition, passion and pride, sportsmanship and camaraderie on full display for miles around.

We had the traditional “Friday Fish Fry” and it was delicious; deep fried perch and tenderloin with potatoes puffs. Of course, there are the cheese curds, something my wife introduced me too, thankfully, long ago. And there’s a rich history of brewing beer in the great state of Wisconsin—I’ll have to indulge in that next time.

Every state I’ve visited recently reinforces the diversity of the United States. Arizona, Maine, Tennessee, Hawaii, Nevada, and Florida… they are all very different and yet all very American in their own way. We Americans are lucky; we need to take care of each other.

Scenery changes. People are the same.

I long to travel. I feel it in my bones when I’ve been sedentary for too long. I yearn to be up in the air, to land in unfamiliar airports somewhere new. I love that first feeling of strangeness when encountering a new place.

Once you leave the airport and tourist infrastructure though, it quickly settles—because you realize everyone around you is the same as the people back home. Everyone goes about their daily lives, seeking health, wealth, and love, searching for purpose. We’re all the same in that regard, us humans.

My route to work and downtown Cape Town, March 2012

In a way it’s really the Earth that changes the most. People may wear different clothing and eat unique foods, but it’s the geography that shifts dramatically. I think back to how Table Mountain and the Twelve Apostles brush up to the sea at the bottom of Africa, or how the plains stretch on endlessly in northwestern Tanzania. I remember the white mountains of Svalbard, the ubiquitous ice of Antarctica. I shudder thinking of the dense hot jungle that is the Amazon, and daydream about the mesmerizing rice paddies in Southeast Asia. These are the unique features of our planet. The people are the same. 

Cape Town and Beijing are unalike. They have completely different histories and are almost on opposite ends of the Earth. (To be fair, South Africa seems to be on the opposite end from most places.) Cape Town is a bowl city smushed between the ocean and mountains. Its 400 years of smorgasbord history and culture dwarfs its population of 5 million. You feel a part of history walking the streets of the Mother City. Beijing is a gargantuan metropolis of 22 million souls, modern skyscrapers slowly smothering the ancient inner rings, the city shrouded in pollution. Even though South Africa has 11 national languages and China has 300+ minor ones, none of them overlap. Denizens of Cape Town are found speaking a number of those languages, and will often switch from one to another to communicate efficiently as needed. Beijing’s residents speak Putonghua, the “standard” Chinese, which serves as the lingua franca for most of the country.

Walking alongside the gargantuan Jinyuan Mall, where I used to work in Beijing in 2013

I was equally disoriented upon landing in both countries. But eventually I found my bearings, and both became home. I look back on my time in both cities fondly, and still maintain friendships with people in each. My friends are culturally distant and have divergent perspectives on geopolitics, economics, the best food, etc. But there’s one thing they don’t differ on: a life well lived. I have proof of this—two of my friends from each country have hung out together.

My roommate in Woodstock, the first suburb outside Cape Town, is South African. Let’s call him Dirk. We became great friends while living together, going on bike rides, playing chess, and talking about the world. I’ve learned a lot from him. When I moved to Beijing, one of the first people I met was a friend of a friend—we can call him Nico. We shared similar interests, namely working out, playing basketball, and partying. We also divulged in deep discussions on politics, economics, and history. These two friends could’t be any more similar, despite their environments. They both enjoyed sport, they were both social and both good, genuine guys. Of course, not everyone has the same personality. But despite cultural differences and different scenery, they wanted the same thing: a fun, happy life.

This was verified when they met, in Barcelona of all places. My wife and I were visiting Spain in 2019, and my Chinese friend had moved to Barcelona a few years before. He served as our foreign local, showing us all the hidden gems—bars, good paella spots, and uncrowded beaches. (Always the best way to travel.) On our last night in town, my South African friend surprised me—he called me and said he was in Barcelona, having driven some 800km that day to meet us before we left. I was flabbergasted! I didn’t expect to enjoy the company of both friends in such an unlikely place. We had dinner together and went out for drinks until the wee hours. They got along splendidly. And why wouldn’t they? They’re both great guys that want the same thing, the thing we all want. To live a beautiful life.

Sunset in Barcelona the night we all met up, August 2019

Well, my wife and I had a 7am train the next day and turned in “early,” by Spanish standards at least (Dirk and Nico stayed out). The next morning was rough: scrambling to throw our things into our bags, getting a ride to the train station, and finding the right seats on the right train were all more difficult when hungover and sleep deprived. We slept the whole five-hour train ride to Granada. Upon arrival, we wandered through the maze of narrow, winding streets in the old town to our AirBnB apartment, and promptly took another nap in the dizzying heat of Andalusia.

Upon waking, I had multiple messages from an unknown number. Dirk had been pickpocketed on La Rambla, losing his wallet and phone. I immediately sent him Nico’s number and connected the two of them. It was all I could really do while 700 kilometers away.

Several hours later, Nico shared a picture of the two of them having dinner. We texted a lot over the next several days, and it warmed my heart to hear how much Nico helped out Dirk. He paid for dinner and, speaking Catalan, was able to get Dirk’s old number on a new phone and access to money. Dirk couldn’t speak more highly of Nico, and it was clear they had built a relationship of their own, independent of me as the mutual friend.

This story illustrates how similar we all are. We may come from different cultures, speak other languages, or, on the surface, have distinct ways of life. But we all bleed, laugh, cry, and smile the same. I believe in the human race. I believe we are good, and that our similarities run much deeper than our differences. Our environments may differ, but we are the same. Maybe, just maybe, if we recognize this on a global scale, we’ll all see ourselves as one race, one species, living on one planet together.

Into the Woods

Today I head into the woods. More specifically, we return to my favorite place on the planet: Yosemite Valley.

I look forward to what we all need: an occasional disconnect, a mental refresh and a spiritual reset.

Here’s to communing with nature and seeking oneness with Mother Earth.

Airport Differences

Airports are a good barometer for cultural differences. Because everything is fairly standardized internationally within airports, you can isolate variables to an extent and gleam glimpses of how locals really behave: what they eat for breakfast, how rigid or chill their adherence to procedure is, etc. I noticed this while passing through the Rome, Barcelona, and San Francisco airports today.

It’s also somewhat of a microcosm for our planet: despite our smaller differences, we’re all one species living on this one rock together.

Arrivederci Italia

Today was the journey back to the mainland and back to Rome. We hauled our bags up the cliff from our perched villa to the “main street” on Ponza, then drove our Jeep Samurai-Santana back to the harbor. An hour ferry back to the Italian coast, then a quick zip to the beaches of Sperlonga.

The beach was incredible; shallow, sandy, and devoid of crowds. The hilltop town towering in the distance was as picturesque as the villages of Cinque Terre. It was one last magical day in the sun.

I often tell people Italy is my favorite country. This trip reinforced that even more. Rome, Ponza, Sperlonga—amazing places that each captured my heart in unique ways. Europe is a fascinating continent, and our time in Spain, just one week ago, seems like another lifetime.

People on this continent have been perfecting their way of living for centuries. I respect their culture and hope to continue to learn from them. We’ll be back some day, hopefully soon. But now it’s time to make our way back.

Blissful Existence

No alarm clock. Politics and the news machine fades away. Simply looking out at the view. Such isn’t suitable for a lifetime maybe, but for a few days? It’s important to take breaks. Ponza is bliss.

Ponza Arrival

Sometimes exotic places require a lot of effort to reach, and it’s better that way. You appreciate your surroundings when you have to sacrifice time and sleep to reach them.

Ponza is a minuscule island off the coast of Italy in the Tyrrhenian Sea used as a retreat/hiding place for Roman Emperors. I feel like royalty in our villa on the cliffside. Tiny and secluded, this rock is inhabited by friendly and quirky individuals. And can’t such be said about the Earth as a whole?

We’re exhausted, but ready to enjoy a place I had never heard of a few months ago. What an amazing planet and an incredible time to be alive.

Eternal Forever

Rome is hands down my favorite city in the world. The vibrant energy of the city center is unmatched: local Italians indulging in the wild beauty of life, with tourists clamoring to share in the culture. Roma is a living, breathing open air museum with thousands of years of history. Art is all around you. Italians are content with their place in the world. All is well in the Eternal City, where fresh water flows freely from fountains everywhere, one walks the same cobblestones as Caesar, and you can bask in the passion and glory of one of the world’s most renowned cultures. I am grateful to experience a few days of all the majesty.

Roman Style

I felt a rush while wandering the Eternal City this afternoon. Rome is basically a giant museum, and we’re staying right in the center of it all, near Campo de’ Fiori. Walking the cobblestones, staring up at ancient churches and dilapidated columns, one feels transported back in time. To walk the crowded, labyrinthine streets of Rome in sandals resembling caligae makes me feel like I can time travel. Roma, show me your style.

Friendly Barcelona

And then there’s the city, so much different than the countryside. I got to spend two days in Barcelona with my wife and our good friends, and it was a blast. The noise, the smells, the options are vivid and domineering. Yet the people of Barcelona are still incredibly friendly, willing to communicate however is easiest with language, and generally happy. The water of the Mediterranean from the sandy beaches is cool and comfortable. It’s a city worth visiting, and it was all the more memorable with the company I kept. Tomorrow, onto the Eternal City. Until next time Barca.

Travel Gives

Things are different when you travel. You’ll often be uncomfortable. There’s rarely a set eating schedule, and your sleep schedule is regularly disrupted. But I disagree with the recent New Yorker article, “The Case Against Travel.” Travel is not synonymous with vacation, and while the aforementioned change or inconvenience will likely be experienced in both, I think truly additive experiences only occur during travel.

I’ve met people across the world that I’m still friends with to this day. People I see every few years, maybe even only once a decade. Those relationships still teach me different ways to see the world and enrich my social life.

I treasure all my experiences with the incredible nature on this planet. I almost always hike abroad, and I hike at home often. Walking different parts of the Earth have connected me to the oneness and majesty of this planet, knowing we all share this diverse space (and need to learn to appreciate it together).

And I usually do see the typical “touristy sights,” but those are often not the experiences that linger and grow years later. It’s the new food experiences, the new relationships, the unique feelings I’ve encounter along my journey. Travel provides a window to another world, one in which you can enter if you chose. Or it can be something that enlarges your perspective. Travel can make us better human beings by being more empathetic to both culture and planet. Travel is largely responsible for who I am today. Travel gives.

European Countryside

There’s something special about the European countryside. Although completely different countries, I’ve experienced a similar peace here in Olivella as back in Umbria. The slowness, the sun dropping behind the rolling hills each evening, the quiet… it’s very different than New World California. You haven’t seen all of Europe until you spend time in the countryside, where people have lived simply yet fully for thousands of years. We have much to be proud of as a species, and one of them is the perfection of living right, in accordance with the beauty and bounty of nature.

For Love in Spain

Spain is a wonderful country full of friendly people. I am fortunate to attend a friend’s wedding here. Across the world you see how different people live, and I could get used to the Spanish lifestyle. The best part—we’re here to celebrate love, both theirs and our anniversary. To adventure, to love, to hope…

One Bag Prep

I can’t help but get excited while planning a trip. I’m a one bag travel advocate, and part of the fun is only bringing the minimum amount of clothes/things you need. Because you can go on a trip, or you can go on an adventure. Real travel is forgetting possessions and experiencing the most of what this beautiful planet has to offer.

Where the Heart Is

After traveling a lot you learn home isn’t just a place. Home is the people you love, the culture and the vibes that are familiar from years of experience. Home is the habits and routines you engage in, that provide fulfillment. Home is the sights and sounds, the smells and the sensations that bring peace. It’s always good to be home.

Trip End Reflections

All trips come to an end, and the day you journey home is always the least fun. I try to think about what I will remember years later.

On this trip, the food was excellent—fresh lobster every day, beautiful hikes along granite cliffs and deep forest, and spending quality time with the three most important people in my life.

And I learned a lot about a new place, and in a way I learned more about my country. The United States is a vast, diverse place. I’ll always look back fondly on my visit to Maine.

Time to fly home. Until next time, vacation land state.

Maine Peace

I’ve felt peace this week in Maine. It’s slow here. In the summer at least, the weather is incredible. We’ve done three hikes in two days, eaten lobster almost every meal, and driven around and through most of Mt Desert Island. I shudder just thinking of winter, but in June, Acadia and the surrounding area have fully lived up to the hype.

Acadia the Beautiful

Blues upon blues in the water, outlining towering pines on the islands dotting the sea. Granite slabs sloping down to shore, interspersed with tide pools. Sand beach, forested hiking trails, and amazing sunset views. Lupine and Iris and dandelion dot the hills. All describes Acadia National Park, a place of immense beauty. We are so fortunate as Americans to have the opportunity to enjoy these national parks. Maybe the magnificent nature in our country, and the feeling it brings us, can help keep us united.

Kayak Space

Apparently Maine is the most forested state in the Union, and we witnessed that from the water today. Kayaking around the islands off the coast near Stonington, we battled the waves and saltwater splashes while eagles and ospreys soared overhead. Every island, of which there were dozens, was packed with pine trees. It was eternally beautiful.

Here in small town America, surrounded by nature, I feel as though I’m across the country. And it feels good. This beautiful state exists in a beautiful country. Visiting here has reinvigorated my pride in ordinary, friendly, law abiding, tax paying Americans. We’re not the jaded political mudslinging we see in the news; we are a kind, hardworking people that can change the world.