Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?


Ashland's Rogue River Valley as seen from above on a typical wintry day. I took a hike up the White Rabbit Trail with my friend's mom and her partner despite the rain and mist and sad but inevitable stiffness in my ankles resulting from the end of hiking 20-25 miles every day with a 45 pound pack on.

The Madrone trees and their unique peeling bark and patterned underparts were on full display as we hiked through the chill.

What's another town stop without another delicous gumbo? It sounds more like a tired running joke now I guess, but what with the amazing ingredients available at the Ashland food co-op, we couldn't resist. Plus this time I got to teach my host how to make it. There was a dinner part with the gumbo as the featured dish and I think it was regarded as a hit. Can't help but say: it usually is!

My last night in Oregon was spent in the family's new yurt built this summer up on 60 acres of mountainous land not far from the Pacific Crest Trail. (Could this be a future location of trail magic?!?) When Yak and I had passed through before we helped carry the wood stove up these stairs. Well this time it was fully installed and ready to burn. We brought some grub out and had a good old time in this roundest of structures. First night in a YURT! This one was bought from an Alaskan company that guarantees it can withstand the heavy snowload that it's likely to encounter up in the Oregon hills. Once the stove got warmed up I was pleasantly impressed by how well insulated the thing was.


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