Graduate School Pain

Okay, time for a rant. I’ll try to keep this short since I have an Immunology test tomorrow that I have to finish studying for. In May I will be graduating, with honors, and receiving my B.S. in Biology. In preparation for my next step after graduation, I have been researching multiple universities that offer graduate degrees in ecology and related fields. As anyone who has been through this process before knows, one of the first steps is contacting potential advisors. Well, today I received a response from a professor at ****** University in New Orleans, basically telling me that, due to budget constraints, unless I am a minority, there will not be a place for me at that university. They weren’t interested in my resume, transcripts, letters of recommendation, or experience. Just the color of my skin. In theory, any minority with a 3.0gpa would be given priority over my 3.87gpa based solely on their race. Am I the only one who thinks this is racist? I know that some white people have been responsible for a lot of racist shit throughout history. But how does hurting other people who happen to be white help fix this? I don’t want preferential treatment, just an equal chance. Otherwise, I would try and ‘cash-in’ on the ¼ of my DNA that is Cherokee. Am I right to be upset here? Am I missing something?

Excuses, Excuses.

So, why the hell have I been off the radar for over four months? Truth be told, I have been more than a bit depressed about a change of plans I was forced to make. Preparing for my journey involved no small amount of training to condition myself for the upcoming trek. During the course of this training I suffered what I classified at the time as a small leg injury. I figured I would heal up in no time. I was wrong. The wound became infected badly enough that I had to seek medical help. The immediate result of this was that very nearly all of the money I had set aside to cover my expenses along the way went bye-bye. This alone wouldn’t have stopped me. It was very probable that I could find temporary gigs here and there for pocket cash. However, in addition to the financial distress, my physician told me that, were I to proceed as planned; I was virtually assuring myself blood poisoning.

Well, boo-hoo and so on. How often does life go as planned anyway? I’d like to think I made the best of my summer, despite the setbacks. I only made it to one of my planned music festivals, Grassroots, but that was quite the experience itself. I even got to speak to someone claiming to be God (whether or not drugs were involved in this claim, well, I will leave that up to the personal opinion of the reader). I was able to spend time with family and friends, including attending my family reunion for the first time in a few years. My grandparent’s porch and garage each received some new paint, and several of their gardens I have taken responsibility for over the years have been expanded. I even started on hand-excavating a small pond at the edge of a shade and rock garden I have been working on. I even had an all too brief summer romance that may or may not become an ongoing relationship. Details may follow.

Returning to the matter at hand, why come back to this if the trip I had originally planned to write about has been scrapped for the foreseeable future? Well, why not? My rather nomadic nature has resulted in past adventures I can reflect upon at my leisure, and I am quite sure my wanderings are nowhere near their end. Above all else, I enjoy this medium of expression. So, let’s see where this goes, shall we?

First Leg of the Journey

I decided to take a break from studying to put this up (yay for procrastination excuses). I have found a better way to map my upcoming route after discovering Google has a bicycling option. My new route is a bit longer than I previously thought (596 miles instead of 570), but it is still completely do-able. An added benefit to this new and improved set of directions is that a quick perusal of the satellite view shows that I will be going through a heavily forested region, so plenty of places to camp.  

My family back home in NY has been nice enough to pack up some of my gear I didn't think to bring with me when I came back down here at the start of the semester, and they will be shipping it out to me tomorrow. So I will be doing this trip with all sorts of amenities.

              As my departure date approaches I am finding it difficult to quantify my feelings concerning my solo adventure. I suppose the best way I could describe them would be a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Tredpiditement maybe? Or how about excitementidation?  Eh, reader’s preference. Which do you prefer?

              In other news; I have come across a decent poster for the first festival on my list, The Orange Blossom Jamboree. Looks good, doesn't it?

Camping Update

Due to a report of inclement weather, Lulu and I have postponed the camping trip until next weekend. When I asked her if she had waterproofed her tent yet she didn't know what I was talking about. I suppose I should have thought to mention that earlier, so, my fault. I'm the one who supposedly knows what they are doing. So, we now have a week to get her equipment in order. Anyway, this has given me extra time to work on a few school projects, and it feels good to be making progress on my to-do list. I am also working on a more detailed map of the first leg of my journey. I should have it ready to post by tomorrow.

Looming Deadlines

I just realized that I leave in exactly four weeks from today. Wow. Time has been moving much faster than I have been aware.  Between now and then I have three unit tests, two final projects, a hands-on practical for my first aid class, and four final exams. There is also the question of what to do with my stuff that won't be going in the trailer. I am still waiting to hear back on an internship I applied for that would take the place of my next semester at MUW. If I get it, I may as well swallow the cost and ship everything home; otherwise I will just find a place to store it down here until I get back. I won't know for sure until April 17^th if I got it or not. With everything to do I feel just the tiniest bit unprepared. The expected consequences of procrastination I guess.

Well, some good news; my tent, cot, and bicycle trailer all showed up, and all on the same day. The trailer is actually built a lot better than I was expecting, given the price. I assembled it, checked all the seams and welds, and inflated the tires to make sure there were no leaks. By the way, can someone give the rationale for using pictures in instruction manuals that are so ridiculously blurry and otherwise low quality that I could damn near make out the Loch Ness monster?  Also set up the cot and did the same welds/seams check. So far everything looks good, but I won't be sure till after this weekend’s field test, assuming Lulu doesn't cancel. It’s close enough to finals week that no scheduled “fun” activities are set in stone.

There are still things I have to get done for my trip. I will be ordering a bicycle powered USB generator so I can keep my phone charged along the way. I've also been playing around with the route I will be following from Columbus, MS to the first festival on my list (The Orange Blossom Jamboree) in Brooksville, FL. I should have a map to post within the next day or so, although coursework is experiencing a rise on my priority list as deadlines loom ever closer. 

Rough Overview of My Planned Stops

 While I have yet to choose my exact route from location to location, I do know of at least these six music festivals that I am planning on attending. They are, in chronological order:

1.     Orange Blossom Jamboree

2.     Briar Patch Music Festival

3.     Full Moon Field Festival

4.     Firefly Music Festival

5.     Meltdown Music Fest 3

6.     Grassroots Festival of Music and Dance

I am not going to have much time to spare for the first jump. From my college campus in Columbus Mississippi, to the Orange Blossom Jamboree in Brooksville, Florida it is approximately 570 miles. My current plan is to leave here on the 9^th of May, right after my last final exam. The jamboree starts on the 16^th at noon. I will have to average about 81 miles per day to get there in time, which isn’t too bad, really.  If I travel for five hours in the cool early mornings, and another five after the heat of the day starts to bleed away, I will only have to keep an average of 8.1 miles an hour, which is not at all difficult on a bike. Heck, I might even get there a little ahead of schedule, although that may be a bit overly optimistic.

Some Preparations

      Last night I gave my bike a bit of a tune up. Degreased the chain and gears and then re-lubricated everything, put a new brake pad on, and did some fine tuning on the derailleur. My Evolutionary Biology professor, Dr. Paul Mack, invited me on a bird-watching trip today at Plymouth Bluff Nature Center, which is about seven miles from my dorm at Mississippi University for Women. It was a perfect opportunity to make sure my adjustments were all in order. Of course, the four and a half hour bird-watching hike was worth the trip by itself. I was able to see some Southern wildlife I hadn’t seen yet. Saw quite a number of birds (of course), but also a skink, a fat, lazy nutria, and the biggest mud slider turtle I have ever seen. I still have yet to see a gator, but I am going to be in the South a while yet.

I recently ordered a few supplies for my upcoming expedition. While I have a small backpacking tent, I decided to upgrade to a larger 8’x9’ Boulder Creek tent because I figured it would be a good idea to have a place big enough I could stash my bike in it. I also ordered a steel frame bicycling cargo trailer, capable of holding and hauling 88lbs of gear. Another item I ordered, something so luxurious that I am almost ashamed of myself for buying it, is an 85”x40” Teton Sports Outfitter XXL Cot. No sleeping on the cold hard ground for this guy!

If I planned correctly, I should have the majority of the aforementioned supplies arrive by this weekend. Since this coincides with an overnight camping trip that I am planning with a friend, it will be a fortuitous opportunity to field test it all. Hopefully, this will leave me enough time to both return any defective items/components and receive replacements.

As for my friend, Lulu, I get to take her on her first ever camping trip. She is an international student from China, and according to her, camping in their versions of state parks require special permits that can take months to acquire. I've never had the opportunity to introduce someone to this experience before. Perhaps I will be able to dazzle her with my wizardly woodsmen skills, or maybe I will try too hard to be impressive and set the tent on fire. Hope I don't scare her away from the outdoors!

Night at Foster Pond

           Planning for my upcoming trek has made me nostalgic for adventures past. An annual tradition of mine for some years now has been to get away from civilization for a week or so and immerse myself in the primitive. Granted, Finger Lakes National Forest is more of a cultivated wilderness than a pristine one, but it suffices to satiate my escapist tendencies.

No matter how many times I go, the silence is always a readjustment. I get so frustrated with the inane conversations surrounding me that it is a relief to remove myself from any and all arguments and controversies. No more religion, politics, sports and, best of all, not a single verbalized “LOL”. No computers, phones, radios, air conditioners or televisions with the assorted innocuous hums filling in the background of my auditory perceptions. The manmade fades away leaving only nature’s symphony to fill the void.

            While I enjoy the traditional array of camping activities, from exploring the woods and becoming acquainted with its various native denizens to the wood-smoke aroma of a late night campfire, none of these experiences are unique to me. What makes this particular forest memorable to me is Foster Pond. I’ve always been a water person and this backwoods pool has been a sanctuary to me for a long time.

            The pond’s deep amber water absorbed the sun’s rays with a voracious appetite, releasing them at night in the form of a warm, steamy mist, nearly Tolkienesque in its’ display. I remember floating on my back in the mist shrouded water watching the bats sweep the air for their parasitic prey as they performed their nightly aerial ballet, close enough to feel the wind from their wings as the bullfrogs sang their throaty serenades from the far bank. Swimming through this ethereal happenstance, water so close in heat to my own that I can hardly sense it, it was if I were flying through some otherworldly dimension.

            This is as close as I have ever come to paradise. Spending my nights immersed in those waters all night long, treading water for as long as I could, occasionally resting on the soft grassy bank, watching the heavens as I recharged. On occasion I would see paired flashes of phosphorescent green as the moon reflected from the eyes of one of my nocturnal neighbors or another. I would watch them, my eyes barely above the surface, as they went on about their business, oblivious to my presence. A red fox, just passing through, a handsome skunk, white stripes nearly glowing from Luna’s light, stopped for a drink. His pungently odiferous broadcast warned me of his approach, but I could not take offense to the aroma, as his claim to these acres was made long before mine.

            My favorite caller, who visited almost nightly, was a large round raccoon. I am sure he grew to his rather massive size by scavenging the leftovers from past campers. Not that he was any worse for it, as his sleek gray fur and alert, inquisitive eyes attested. Our first meeting was at dusk. I was relaxing on shore, legs in the water after watching the sunset but before the bats began their foraging in earnest. He emerged from the brush line with hardly a whisper of disturbed branches, carrying his dinner with him. I was maybe forty feet away at the time, watching him as he approached. I’m sure he was aware of my presence beforehand but he still made a rather dramatic spectacle of himself as he first “noticed” me. He looked at me, dropped his meal and drew himself up on two feet as tall as he could, almost three feet. Leaning towards me slightly, arms dangling, I could see him snuffling the air and wriggling his whiskers, letting me know he was aware of me. After a few moments of these theatrics he apparently came to the conclusion that I posed no threat and proceeded to recover his morsel and continue on to the pond. The way the bank meandered had me sitting almost directly across from this fellow, although he couldn’t have been more than twenty feet away at the time. It was interesting to watch this seemingly fearless creature wash his food, a root of some kind, by passing it back and forth between his nimble black furred paws, from such a close distance.

            Although it is never the same experience twice, I am always, at some level, planning my return to Foster Pond. It is one of the few places I can feel free to release my hold on this “modern” world and embrace a place more primitive and, to me, at least while I am there, more real.

Welcome Wanderers!

So what's this all going to be about? To tell the truth, I am not quite sure of that myself yet. It started with a plan. I recently began developing a rather ambitious idea concerning how I was going to get from college in Columbus, Mississippi to my home in Penn Yan, New York. Sure, I could take a bus or train, maybe go by air, but then I started to consider what I would be missing by taking the easy way. For reasons I may or may not go into at a later time, I have been pursuing all manner of new experiences, new adventures these past few years. I have been SCUBA diving off the coast of Nevis in the Caribbean, I've built log cabins for a hunting guide in Alaska, remodeled a house in Florida, explored Seattle, Nashville, New Orleans and New York City, and been on numerous camping and hiking trips in a variety of locations. This year I have been considering a cross country bicycle trip, Mississippi to New York, seeing and experiencing everything I can along the way. This here shall be a chronicle of what I experience along the way, possibly interspersed with random stories of past adventures. Also expect a few random quasi-philosophical meanderings written with the intention of convincing the reader I am more intelligent than I really am. Enjoy!