How to Have a Perfect Spring Break on the Teton Pass

Plan:

• Recharge and get work done in Ian’s cabin at the base of Teton Pass.
  
• Make a fire, read some books, plan some lessons, start a new knitting project.
  
• Escape once or twice to the slopes on my board, but mostly just relax.

Reality:

• Tour of Jackson, Wilson and Victor.
• Meet about 50 new, cool people.
  
• Dance for hours to Fishbone at the Notty Pine in ID.
  
• Get surprised by a visit from best friend, Megan who brings me skiis to use.
  
• Ski for the first time (in many years) and fall in love with this new source of adrenaline (sorry snowboard, maybe later).
  
• Sauna.
  
• Cook amazing dinner.
  
• Dance more.
  
• Get hour and a half massage.
  
• Go to yoga class.
  
• And now it is St. Patrick’s Day, so who knows.

All because of my best friends.

Return to the Familiar?

Bus from the Nujiang (Salween) river to Kunming. Fly to Guanzhou. Fly to LA. Sleep in hotel 3 hours. Fly to Seattle. Fly to Spokane. Drive to Missoula. Sleep 10 hours (ahhh). Drive to Wilson. Rest 5 days and then begin again.

The days of travel back to the states weren’t really days so much as one long stretch of hours devoted solely to waiting, rushing, hauling, loading, explaining, sleeping, eating and driving. Distinction between day and night blurred since sleep found us when it could squeeze in a few hours of our time. Yet it all seemed to pass smoothly without any major glitches, adding to the long list of moments of complete bewilderment of how everything always works out.

Waiting for me at the LA airport were two of my favorite Aunts. Riding to the hotel in Aunt Jo’s shiny red truck, I felt like royalty. Passing my students and fellow teachers struggling to load bags and boats onto the hotel shuttle, I dined on homemade banana bars. At the hotel we shared stories, attempting to catch up from the many years since our last visit. I came to found they would embark on a new adventure, a cruise around the tip of South America in a few days. I happily carry on the Hollingsworth lust for exploration and travel, my aunts being highly practiced in this art form.

The frenzy of movement and returning students to their smiling parents ended when I sat back down in my mobile home, my Forrester. During the next seven hours en route to Wyoming I slowly felt a sense of familiarity. Hearing English speakers at the airport, seeing fast food restaurants in LA, even using a clean bathroom all still felt awkward to me. Is this where I’m from? I’m not sure. I realize that China’s reality grew on me and became my own after my seven weeks. Thus, sights are set on a return to this altered normalcy. For now however, I will belt my music, soak in the snowy mountain landscape and plot my next adventure.

Xidong, Matrimonial Dress and Family

Exit China, enter Tibet.

No welcoming sign marked this border, in fact, a border doesn’t exist at all. Yet something here is different. Faces toughened by harsh sunlight and heavy workloads, Rosy cheeks over tanned skin. Time taken to connect to the earth, to come together in celebration, to give thanks for one’s blessings.


Here alongside the Mekong our group stayed in a small guest house in a town where no internet cafes could be found, no bakeries, no China Mobile shops. A simple convenience store in our guest house was the closest our group came to enjoying treats from the outside world. A sprite, a Snickers bar, a bottle of water. Due to an exciting stretch of river and the relaxing atmosphere of our new home, the group decided to stay here for over a week. It wasn’t until near the end of this time that I began to feel a connection to the amazing family whose home we shared.

I began by entering the kitchen to speak with Zachary, our translator. The great grandmother would usher me in to take a seat and immediately offer me Yak Butter Tea (a warm, salty, slightly thick beverage that while you continue to drink, you’re never really sure if you like it or not) and an assortment of surprisingly flavorless cookies and cakes. The students likened these enticing goodies to eating twigs made to look like rice crispy treats. They, along with the tea, began to grow on me.

One afternoon I asked if I could help cook dinner. I arrived as great grandma was heading to feed the pigs. Ladleing a soupy mixture of our leftovers into two buckets, she began to carry them on her back. I, of course, insisted that I do this work, amazed that she is still able to lift such heavy loads. This naturally relieved her and gave her some enjoyment at my initial struggle with the mechanism.

Returning to the kitchen I helped grandma and a young daughter of hers begin to prepare dinner. Over the deep wok, heated by a small wooden fire enclosed in the concrete structure, we heated oil and began dropping in ingredients and seasonings filling my nasal passages with pure, tasty bliss. The jalapeno peppers more so a fiery, sneeze-inducing bliss. I learned how to stir the fried rice, flatten the peppers and fry the meat. Yet, what I enjoyed the most was spending this time with these women. They laughed at my ignorance and I smiled, knowing that it made them happy I was choosing to spend my time with them. I returned the following day, our last, to help prepare other meals and pass the time in this warm little kitchen where aromas swirled and foreign languages filled the air.

Our group requested the presence of the family members of the household (grandparents, moms, dads, nephews, nieces, aunts, uncles, kinds, etc) for a photo of everyone on our last evening at the guesthouse. The family interpreted this invitation as a call for celebration. The women quickly grabbed Kristi and I, the only two females in our group, and guided us to their rooms. Here all the women of the family began to layer us in traditional Tibetan wear. Silk shirts with sleeves reaching the floor, heavy dresses and layer upon layer of cloth wraps. To garnish, thick necklaces laden with local orange coral beads and large silver pendants hung from our necks while similar ornaments were wrapped around our waists. Lastly, a headdress with tassels, balls and string were placed on our heads. We were instantly 40 pounds heavier and more colorful than a box of lucky charms. Along with a few other transformed male group members, we joined everyone in the family’s worship room. The students and other teachers were shocked, not aware of the reason for our delay. A photo shoot ensued until we all settled into seats, chatting and sipping on our homemade barley wine (or rather the teachers were sipping on the wine).

As is tradition, our young host got up to sing a beautiful Tibetan song. Upon completion it soon became apparent that we were to all individually to get up in from the group to sing, as per tradition. While some of the students had to be dragged to the front and forced out a verse of twinkle-twinkle little star, others rattled off verses of music ranging from country to rap to bluegrass. I chose “Down to the River to Pray”, a short and beautiful tune by Allison Krausse, one of my favorites.

The rest of the night was spent sharing photos and videos of our travels and our exploits on the river. After a hearty breakfast of rice porrage, hard-boiled eggs, steamed rolls and noodle bowls, we sadly bit our farewells to this family with which we all felt a strong connection. When the great grandmother began to cry at our departure, holding our hand and motioning for us to return, we knew we would not forget our time here.

Photos by Adam Elliot

These are some photos from the Yangtze taken by our Trip Leader with Last Descents River Tours, Adam Elliot. His photos are breathtaking and capture the moment in a light unseen by most others

Group shot!

Yubon - The Roadless Tibetan Village

The clanging of cowbells echoes across the high mountain walls surrounding our small guesthouse. While their song fills these parts from sunrise to sunset, this hour marks the symphony’s grand finale. Yaks, horses, donkeys and other large farm mammals saunter down from the hills where they grazed away the day’s hours. Each bell chimes a slightly different pitch, making the overall sound quite harmonious rather than painfully obnoxious. The sun has dropped behind the snowy peak in the foreground, looming over this small mountain village. The crisp air creeps out of the shadows where it took refuge during the sun’s daily reign and I must immediately don more layers to my poorly adapted form. Two horses veer off the path to drink from the stream, both moving on as if a silent consensus took place as to whether they were satiated. A fat pig ambles by, nipples hanging low, with five little piglets scrambling to keep up at her feet. No fences line the fields here, holding the animals inside. They seem to instinctively know where to go for food and where to return for rest at the end of the day. Perhaps they learned it from their ancestors, being passed on for centuries.

Our arrival yesterday afternoon culminated a journey that brought new highs with each bend of the trail. Once I found a steady pace, my legs carried me up the steep, dusty path, through forests and over rocks and ice. As we rounded the apex of the mountain standing between the small, road less village Yubeng and the town Xidong, evidence of the land’s sacredness emerged. Strings of prayer flags linked branches overhead and alongside the path. Flapping loudly with the wind, or silently waving in the breeze their colors danced as massive snowy peaks emerged in the distance. The small village emerged nestled in the valley floor below as we descended slightly on the backside of the mountain.

The following 2 days were the closest WCKA gets to having a vacation. No one brought school materials and no workouts were scheduled for the next full day. Students were able to sleep in, rest, read and explore the village and surrounding mountains to thier heart's content.

A large group of us hiked further up to the base of the glaciers, seemingly in reach of the summit. We passed trees covered in trinkets offered to the spirits by travelers, webs of prayer flags shading the path, and a creek bed covered in cairns built to direct one's soul toward heaven as it leaves the earth. It was as if the closer we got to the peaks, the stronger the connection to the earth was felt. An unexplainable sensation.

We reached the melting glaciers where members of the group refilled thier bottles and we basked in the sunlight. Melting ice chunks broke free and tumbled to the ground with echoing explosions. Ivan and I helped Kristi hang several strings of prayer flags, each for a dear friend. We then sat in this intricate web of colors, imagining all the billions prayers flying over the mountains and land into every part of this massive country and beyond. Its amazing how simple pieces of cloth on a string can evoke such a vast feeling of peace in one's mind and body. Far different from the flags hanging on the porches of dilapidated college homes. Yet now even those flags will remind me of their true meaning.
We discussed deep philosophical matters and simple moments of joy. Everything with an undertone of gratitude.
Once the sun set and another Chinese meal had satiated our bellies I joined some of the students in capturing the full moon's light upon the snowy peak. We experimented further with the use of our headlamps to create messages in the photos. Another teacher, LJ, was able to produce this photo for the school's blog. Pretty impressive.
We rested well that night and prepared for our hike out the next morning.











This experience will surely be one of my most memorable from our entire stay in China.

Today I am frustrated and overwhelmed and tired and slightly cranky and confused and just wanting to run away. But you'll have that.

We over the half-way point in the semester and I am entering into material that I am not as well-versed in. Therefore, it takes me longer to prep for each class so that not only do I understand the topic, but that I can also convey this topic to my students. On top of this, we are trying to complete 3 more weeks of class before we leave China, making for several day and a half of classes. Less prep time for Susan. Some days I must opt out of kayaking to complete this, and others my day is just made up of a continual sequence of reading, writing, talking, eating, sitting on bus (reading more), kayaking, planning, eating...and so on. At the end of these days I brush my teeth and a huge smile covers my face as I know all I have left to do is crawl under my comforter and rest. The toy at the bottom of the cereal box.

These days are also exciting because I know it can only get easier. I write down my ideas to make this process easier next time around, I promise myself I will work on this and prepare a better and more interesting class for the next time around. Because I know I am good at this, I just need a bit of time to work out the kinks.

Here I am, on the other side of the world.

I am back in the city of Lijiang after a 10 day trip down the Great Bend of the Yangtze, a stretch of river with its days numbered. In fact, we might have been the last group of people to enjoy the river for its massive waves, crashing holes and erupting whirpools, rather than its hyropower potential.

But let's rewind...

After traveling for nearly 48 hours we arrived in this small city, Lijiang. Made up of both an old and new town, this city appears to be a pretty popular vacation spot. Stages were being built in preparation for the coming New Years festivities, a holiday that falls on the new moon and begins celebrations that seem to go on for the entire month. We are back in Lijiang now, after our trip down the river, and the streets are full of performers, tourists and festivities even though the new years has already passed. The small streets of old town weave in circles and loops causing for much confusion and thus more shopping, an interesting trick. Shops tend to repeat themselves, but restraunts with live entertainment booming from within and aromatic tea shops make walking the same streets not so dissapointing.

From here we begin to stage for our multi-day exploration of the Great Bend with Last Desents, a rafting company founded by Travis Winn, an American who has made Chinese River Conservation and Access his life-long passion. Determined to demonstrate the beauty and value of the waterways to the people of China, Travis and his guides do whatever it takes to get the right people out on the river. Although the days are numbered for many stretches of amazing whitewater here due to the government's ambitious hydropower goals (over 1200 new dams will be built in the next 10 years), many sections of river have yet to even be explored. I am truly inspired by thier work here, I find myself wishing I could stay and be a part of it all.

Before putting on the river, as the rafts prepared for the week, our group stopped to hike down inthe the Tiger Leaping Gorge, another valley soon to be filled. The scenery was epic only to be matched by the raging rapid down below.

Here on the banks of the river we began our first week of classes. Where is class today? On the tallest sand dune overlooking the last rapid? Nestled amongst the boulders where shade can be found? So hard to decide. For Biology and our Humans in the Biosphere chapter, we looked into the environmental impacts of the hydropower, interviewing the experts who traveled with us down river and reading various articles. At certain moments we found ourselves sitting on a beach that will soon be hundreds of meters under water once the dams are completed, a hard concept to grasp unless you can see it.



The food was great, the sleep even better and the sand, well it was everywhere. I am still brushing off notebooks, emptying out my pack. After morning classes we set out to run another stretch of river with some of the most powerful currents I've ever seen. One afternoon found us parked at the Kim Jong Ill wave, where I got at least 4 feet of air while bouncing down the face of the wave. Nothing could have made that smile leave my face.

Our last day we dropped off our gear and kayaks (too much equipment to carry out further downsteam) and proceded down the river in rafts to our official take-out. The walk to the small village, Baushan, was steep, but beautiful. We climed nearly 1000 ft past terraced slopes and diverged waterways. It was easy to see why these people settled here, with water flowing from the steep peaks even in the dry season. The village mostly composed of stone houses, narrow and steep walkways was built right into the mountainside. They are lucky in that the reservoir will not reach town limits. Instead they will only flood the majority of thier arable land. Not sure which is worse. Classes resumed here while slowly the group became sick one by one. Now, several days later back in Lijiang, most everyone has had a night dealing with the typical foreign travel bug. Hopefully we're getting it out of the way now and the rest of the trip will go smoothly.
As much as I would love to go on forever about every overpowering moment of wonder, excitement and discovery, this new job keeps me incredibly busy. Entering grades, contacting parents and class prep are only a few on my list right now. If you are interested in more info (and a pic of me teaching) check out the student's blog site: World Class Kayak Academy Spring 09. I also didn't take nearly as many photos as I do typically as there was a professional photographer riding along with us and who will be sharing his photos with the group. I'll be sure to post some of his best shots (hopefully lots of good whitewater ones) and mention his name.

My love to all!

Less than 12 hours I board a plane for the Yunnan Province of China. So much to do and tons of energy to do it with. Incredible. Hope to update soon!

Denver--Boulder--Rock Springs--Salt Lake City

Re-load kayaks on car.
Wash dirty clothes.
Lunch with Grandma.
Store bike in basement.
Double check every room for forgotten items.
Pick lint off sweater with Grandma.
Pack a lunch.
Back on the road.

Such is the journey.

New Years Eve in Colorado with fellow world traveler, Sarah (we experienced ancient Incan cities like Machu Picchu, floating islands on Lake Titicaca and altitude sickness on Cotopaxi together several years ago), was a blast...climbing in the Flatirons outside Boulder, potluck with unknown friends and Yonder/Widespread show downtown. No plans sometimes works out so smoothly.

Another road-trip bonus visit included a stop in Rock Springs, Wyoming, "real wyoming" as a Jackson Hole resident and friend described it to me. Good friends, Rachel and Jim, have plopped in this unsuspecting town for a while and appear to be finding the joy and love in a town not accustomed to such soulful people. Rachel's warm smile is highly contagious, no doubt a handy tool when working in the ER. And Jim never fails to leave me with a sense of inspiration through tales of his many endeavors to help heal the world. A tasty bite to eat and some dog love for Nikki, thier 12 year old Akida, and its back in the toy box headed for salt lake.

Arrival in Salt Lake and within 3 hours meant seeing a long-lost Mike Frank...4 years I think, new friend Weedy, love of my life Ian and, naturally, my girl Megan--SLC resident. Soon this small house became an international staging site as Weedy and Ian prepared to fly to Costa Rica for a 3 week kayaking festival. In less than a week, I will also enjoy a similar frenzy as I make finally preparations for my kayaking journey to China.

Megan is just living vicariously through our stories and photos for now, but she too will be on permanent vacation soon as she will at last graduate from her Graphic Designs program and U of Utah in May. We both sense our lives are resting on the cusp of something grand and I can't wait to see what the future will bring for us.

Now, 3 days into the Salt Lake portion of this particular cross-country foray, I am back on the computer, nose in books, enjoying every moment spent with my best friend, Megan. Hopefully there will be some powder face shots in our near future as well.