And I've just begun, Under a purple sun

I heard this song a few years ago in a recycling commercial on TV. And almost every time, I would have to fight back tears. Because just a snippet of words hit so close to home. 

The song is Changes by Langhorne Slim & The Law. And it nails in words and tone the first 10 years of my life back in the USA, of what it has been like to enter my late 40s and early 50s.

I'm in a much better place now than those first 10 years. Getting ready for Baja, and doing that trip, was a turning point, one that I had been working towards since 2009, when I got my motorcycle license. Learning piano, practicing guitar, studying Spanish, getting a part-time job and, of course, my husband and dog - it's what's kept me from the Dark Side. 

Now: I've mostly accepted my work situation. I know that I did all that I could once I realized what was happening. And I'm not sure there's much I could have done to head the situation off with more planning and action earlier. And I've accepted that I'm more cynical now, that I've been WAY too trusting and loyal to many people I shouldn't have over the years - but I'm also still capable of being kind on a day-to-day basis, that kindness is not a weakness, and it's still usually better to just walk away than to say all that I'm thinking. 

I'm not saying it's all fine now. But for now, it's better. I just wish I'd been better prepared for this time of life. 

57.

Motorcycle Tour of Northern California & Southwestern Oregon: 11 days, 10 nights, 2095 mile

Motorcycle Tour of Northern California & Southwestern Oregon: 11 days, 10 nights, 2095 miles, September 2019. Includes

• My first stay in a yurt
• Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument
• McArthur Burney Falls State Park
• Salmon River Road between Somes Bar and Cecilville, California
• Shasta-Trinity National Forest
• California state road 36
• Empire Mine State Historic Park and Grass Valley
• Downieville, California
• Janesville, California (they misspelled it!)
• Modoc National Forest
• Bear Camp Coastal Route in Josephine County, Oregon 
• Seeing the Southwestern part of the Oregon Coast
• historic campground stoves
• & my first water crossing!

More about my travels

10 years as a motorcycle rider

10 years ago, in June 2009, I took the Motorcycle Safety Foundation Basic Rider Course in Louisville, Kentucky, a course delivered by the Derby Motorcycle School. In fact, I signed up for the course months before I had even arrived back in the USA, when I was still living in Germany, because I knew these classes fill up quickly.

I got my license just a few days later after finishing the course, in July 2009.

And I'm still a motorcycle rider.

It's 10 years later and I've ridden more than 43,000 miles on my own motorcycle - almost 70,000 kilometers - almost all of it for fun on vacations and the weekends (rather than commuting). I did it on two motorcycles, actually: my first bike was a 1979 Honda Nighthawk, which I bought in November 2009 and road for two years, and now, my 2008 Kawasaki KLR 650, which I got in October 2011.

Via my motorcycles, I've been:

• all the way up through British Columbia, up to the Yukon via the Cassiar Highway and back down the Alaska Highway
   
• to Jasper, Banff and Kootenay National Parks
   
• Yellowstone, Western Montana and Wyoming
   
• all over Nevada, including Great Basin National Park and, of course, Rachel Nevada
   
• Arches, Canyonlands, and Capitol Reef National Parks, and Goblin Valley State Park in Utah
   
• Lava Beds National Monument, Lassen National Monument, Emmets Pass, Devil's Postpile, and lots more of Northern California and everything in between that and where we live in the Portland Metro area.
   
• All Over Idaho - which might not sound like much, but it's one of my favorite trips!
   
• Olympic National Park, Gifford Pinchot National Forest / Southern Washington State - really, and all over Washington state
   
• Steens Mountain, Eastern Oregon, including the Alvord Desert - all over Oregon - like up to Mt. Hebo via Siuslaw National Forest Service Road 14.
   
• And regularly all over Washington, Yamhill, Tillamook, Clatsop, Columbia, Clackamas and Wasco in Oregon, and Skamania and Klickitat counties in Washington state.

My only regret about my motorcycle riding is that I didn't take the MSF Basic Rider Course YEARS SOONER. I looked into it when I lived in Austin, Texas back in the late 1990s, before I moved to Germany, because I thought buying a small motorcycle and using it to get to and from work at the University of Texas would be a much better way of commuting. But I kept talking myself out of it.

Whether someone commutes by motorcycle, does simple cruises on a weekend, goes on epic long-distance trips for weeks or rides off-road, I totally get why people love riding a motorcycle. It's hard to say why I love riding a motorcycle without using clichés. It's so incredibly empowering to ride a motorcycle - it makes me feel stronger and more confident and more capable of handling life. I love how connected I feel to my surroundings on a bike and I love the focus I have on the road and the landscape and the surroundings when I'm riding. I feel so incredibly present when I'm riding, and I do not think about my professional work or cleaning my house or all my many obligations and responsibilities. My mind is completely free of all stress and worries. I'm just riding - turning this corner, taking this curve, stopping at this light, going over this hill. I love the long trips and I love just riding across town and back. I love the challenges: I love doing something I find hard to do, and doing it over and over and getting more and more comfortable doing it - and it may take a few hours or it may take months. I love that the more I practice, the more I ride, the better I get at riding. I love that I'm always improving. I wish everything that needs improving in my life was just a matter of practice.

I love after parking my bike and taking off my helmet and looking up and seeing a group of people staring at me, in surprise or disbelief or awe. I admit that I'd also love it if they frowned or otherwise looked disapprovingly. it shouldn't matter what people are seeing when they see me, but it does, and I like my image as a motorcycle rider - I'm not even going to pretend that doesn't matter. It does.

And I really love meeting people - people are happy to walk up and start talking to my husband and me when we stop on our motorcycles.

Stravaig, which is pronounced straw vague, is an Irish and Scottish word meaning to wander about aimlessly. One goes stravaiging about the roads. Stravaig is probably from an even older and obsolete word extravage, meaning to digress or ramble. I am all about stravaig, both on my motorcycle and in conversations: I love exploring and traveling and I really love exploring and traveling by motorcycle. It is fascinating and challenging and soul-reviving as anything you can experience.  

I don't see how I ever could have weathered the disappointments I've experienced since moving back to the USA, especially professionally, if I wasn't a motorcycle rider. When I get on the bike, I'm not thinking of all the hours I've spent preparing consulting proposals and job applications, hours that, by and large, have been for naught. When I'm on the bike, I'm not second-guessing the choices I've made. It's therapy, it's a mental reboot, it's an oasis, it's a shot of serenity.

Like I said, it's hard to talk about without sounding clichéd.

If you are a woman, I really encourage you to think about becoming a motorcycle rider. I swear it's cheaper than therapy. 

• My advice for getting started as a motorcycle rider
   
• Getting started on a dual sport: my journey (Changing from a cruiser to a dual sport)

To take the MSF Basic Rider Course, you do not have to have even touched a motorcycle, and the classes are available all over the USA (sadly, not in Oregon - they have some other group that does courses - if that's your only option, by all means, do it). All you need for the MSF courses are high-topped shoes (this can be tennis shoes - I used hiking boots), pants (no shorts), long sleeves and any kind of gloves that allow you to operate the controls. If you don't have a helmet, they will provide such. If you study up and take your written motorcycle test and get your permit before this class, you will get your license immediately upon finishing the class and presenting your paperwork to the DMV in most states (otherwise, you have to wait 30 days). Half of my class were women, and at 43, I was not the oldest woman in the class!

There's no obligation to get your license after you take a basic riding course. It's worth the price just to have the experience of trying, I promise. If you don't fall in love with it - if you do it and think, oh, no, not for me, hey, that's okay too! Congrats for trying.

If you do fall in love with it, as I did - see you out on the road.

10 years of motorcycle riding. Here's to at least 25 more!

Lone Rider by Elspeth Beard: pioneering motorcycle traveler

I just finished Lone Rider by Elspeth Beard. She's one of the first women to ride a motorcycle all around the world, doing so back in 1982 - 1984 and, when she finished this incredible two-year journey, she found that NO ONE CARED. No, really, no one cared: not her family, not neighbors, not friends, not motorcycle magazines, not travel magazines, not anyone. No book deal, no glowing article in the newspaper upon her return, not even an invitation by the local library back home in England to come down and do a presentation. She didn't write her book until 30 years later - it came out in 2017. I'm so glad she did write it. I really enjoyed reading it. But I remain overwhelmed at how underwhelmed everyone was back in the day about her amazing achievement. I also greatly identify with that experience of an incredible achievement or life-changing event being met with blank stares and a shrug from the people you wanted most to care about it (other than yourself).

In short, Elspeth Beard should be as famous as Ted Simon and her book should be as famous as Long Way 'Round.

Beard made this trip at a time when very few women were traveling long distances by motorcycle, even within their own countries. The out-and-out hostility she gets from daring to travel this way in the 1980s, even here in the USA, is jaw-dropping - and something I have never experienced now as a motorcycle traveler or solo traveler sans bike (and I'm so glad). The amount of sexual harassment and attempted sexual assaults she experiences in every country, including the USA, Australia, and all over India, is something that few world travelers, whether motorcyclists or humanitarians, will talk about, even though it remains a reality to this day - and it's something I have experienced as well. When I've asked travelers about it, most will say "it's not that bad" or "I know how to avoid it." I'm not sure why the denial. Fear of being defined as a victim rather than a traveler? Fear of being seen as weak? As a world traveler myself, including a humanitarian worker, I can tell you: sexual harassment is real, often happens when you least expect it and happens with disturbing regularity. I bring it up with travelers because I like tips on what to look out for and advice on how to handle certain situations, and I hope I have some helpful advice to share as well. It was refreshing to see a traveler be so open about it - and never letting it stop her from doggedly pushing on.

I admit to almost giving up on the book in the first 80 pages because I couldn't believe how she treated her ride in the USA: just something to get through as quickly as possible. The USA is an amazing country to tour by motorcycle, and was in the 1980s - it's not something new - but you would never know it by reading Beard's book. In those early pages, she also talked more about her failed relationship than anything good she might have been experiencing as a motorcycle rider, and I thought, if the entire book is this way, I'm not going to be able to get through it. The first 80 pages just weren't at all a book about an adventure motorcycle rider. But after she gets to Australia and works to get enough money to continue her travels, the book improves drastically - at least for me.

I do wish she'd talked more about how she chose her routes, how she chose where to stay, etc. - the only thing she says on this regard is that she has a Lonely Planet guide for one of the countries she's in. (FYI even in this day and age of the Internet, I'm a huge fan of those guidebooks and have frequently used them myself). She also rarely talks about how she secured her bike for the night - this is a big concern for most motorcycle travelers, and it would have been nice to have heard her advice on the subject.

The book is more about the challenges Beard faces (accidents, breakdowns, bureaucracy, extortion attempts) than the sights she sees, and there are times when I was thinking, Why are you doing this? What about any of this is enjoyable? Are you ever happy? I don't travel for endless, overwhelming challenges, though it is rather awesome to do something you've never done before or face a challenge you never expected - as long as you successfully meet the challenge. I travel to see amazing places and meet interesting people and be somewhere different than what I know every day, and I like reading travel books to get ideas of places to see when I travel. Her book is rather light in terms of describing awe-inspiring moments (an exception is her account of trekking through the Himalayas) or places you might want to visit if you are in the same places she was. But, still, I really enjoyed reading how she problem-solved, I deeply admire her persistence, and I am inspired by her determination. I don't want to spoil anything in the book - part of the enjoyment is reading about the challenges that come up and how she addressed them, over and over and over. But I will say that the challenges are intense, beyond the capabilities of most motorcycle riders I've ever known - and beyond what I could deal with. I really cannot gush enough about how Beard handles a myriad of dire circumstances. She doesn't seem to think it's any big deal that she keeps overcoming these challenges, nor that she built her own panniers or that she constantly repaired her own bike on the fly - I read those accounts and thought, geesh, you are Wonder Woman on a motorcycle and you don't know it. I'm not sure her book will inspire many people to take up motorcycle travel - the constant difficulties she experienced make it sound like a fight to survive every day, and it's not like that for all travelers now - at least it doesn't have to be. But she's not exaggerating: in the 1980s, this is what she experienced, and her abilities to overcome those challenges are nothing short of amazing.

Also, I am not a fan of bare bones budget travel, and I could never sleep and eat in the conditions Beard did for weeks and weeks at a time. I love camping, including rough camping - but I don't want to do it because I can't afford a safe place and I'll be in a place where there's a very likely chance local people will walk up in the night and mess with my bike, or me. I love budget hotels, even when I have money for something more fancy, but not if they are crawling with roaches or pockmarked with peepholes. I don't want to be on the verge of starvation while traveling because I can't afford a decent meal. So, again, as you read her book, know that this is how she traveled, but you don't have to travel this way in order to see the world - even by motorcycle, though you are going to need more money that she had if you don't want to regularly experience the conditions she did.

I have no mechanical abilities and can only just-barely-assist in changing a tire - I could never do it myself. I can't fix wiring or an oil leak or build my own panniers. Beard did all this - and more. That's why Elspeth Beard was able to ride across India - and it's why I can't and won't. And that's okay!  I fancy myself a motorcycle adventure rider - but nothing on the level of Elspeth Beard. I've ridden more than 40,000 miles / more than 63,000 km, the vast majority of it done touring, but just in the USA and Canada (I'm planning on seeing Baja, California, Mexico next year). I've never done the kind of riding Beard has done in severely under-developed countries, nor could I, and I know that and am okay with it. And I bring this up for anyone who wants to be an adventure motorcycle rider and is just getting started, because you might read the book and think, oh, no, I can't do that, therefore, I'm not going to travel around by motorcycle. Times have changed and you don't have to ride in the conditions Beard did to see some amazing, even remote places and experience the thrill of adventure motorcycle riding. I could never manage to ride across India - but I did ride up the Cassiar Highway to the Yukon, I've ridden gravel and dirt roads to remote ghost towns few have heard of, I've camped rough in beautiful, remote places throughout North America. I think I could manage some Eastern European countries on my own bike - I loved my long trip there on the back of my husband's bike back in 2008. Just know as you read Beard's book that this is extreme motorcycle touring, and if you haven't ridden since you were 16 like Beard, and know you could never do many of these roads, that's okay - you still have options for amazing, exotic, challenging adventure motorcycle travel.

Despite my complaint about it while reading the first 80 pages, I ended up really liking that she shared so much about her intimate relationships - I've found most people are not emotionless drones, even motorcycle travelers, though it's very difficult to get world travelers, with or without motorcycles, to open up about this at times. I found it refreshing to hear a traveler talk about love on the road - and the aftermath. It's something to consider if you are going to invest in a lot of time away from home.

And note: I will never have legs long enough to be able to take a photo on my bike so I can look as cool as Elspeth Beard.

One thing I've wondered: is Dave Calderwood, who was then editor of Bike magazine, still alive and still an asshole, or dead, or alive and profoundly apologetic for being an asshole? When Beard was looking for sponsorship and advice for her trip, she wrote his magazine, among others, and he wrote a mocking letter with the sole intent of humiliating her. You can read the letter here.

I hope Elspeth Beard finally gets the recognition and admiration she deserves. And I'm so grateful she shared her adventure at last. I would very much like to be as tenacious as she is.

So, if Elspeth Beard isn't the first woman to go around the world on her own motorcycle, who is? It's probably Anne France Dautheville, French journalist and writer. In 1973 at the age of 28, she rode around the world on a Kawasaki 125. Both of her books, in French only, are out of print (I will totally buy into a crowdfunding effort to translate them into English and publish them!).

One more thing: Beard visited Gunung Leuser National Park in Indonesia during her travels and mentioned an NGO working in this area addressing the huge problem of Indonesians abducting baby orangutans and then wanting to get rid of them when they grow older and are so much harder to care for. Her account of this visit is a good example of transire benefaciendo: "to travel along while doing good" - she didn't attempt to work at the NGO as a volunteer (which would have been illegal), but she did elevate its work through her book, even many years later. And that's how I know about it - and now you do too.

2018 Nevada motorcycle trip

 

In the last two weeks of July, we went on our annual two-week motorcycle trip. This time, we toured Nevada, as well as parts of Oregon and a wee bit of California. We spent 13 days, going over 2657 miles / 4276 kilometers. We stayed at the historic hotel in French Glen, Oregon, rode around Steens Mountain, rode most of US Highway 50 in Nevada (the "loneliest road in the USA"), visited Eureka, Ely, Rachel and Tonopah, Nevada, stayed two nights in Great Basin National Park, stayed a night in Cathedral Gorge State Park and took the Extraterrestrial Highway.

You can read the travelogue or go straight to the photos.

As always, my goal isn't so much hey, look what I did! as it is here's advice if you want to do something similar.

Al-Khansa - feisty poet, female, Islamic, or otherwise

For more information, see the Wikipedia entry for Al-Khansa.

Maybe I should take it back...

I'm kind of regretting that blog about Will I ever not be a novice motorcycle rider?. I posted a link to it on a discussion group for women adventure riders. Some of the advice I got in replies was quite good. But a lot wasn't at all.

I got chastised for how I ride from people who have never seen me ride. I got advice that showed people hadn't actually read the blog (like regarding where I might find a dirt and gravel expert to mentor me for a day). I got a long essay about "covering your clutch" and"clutch feathering" and "dry clutch" - I don't know what ANY of that means...

I also got a couple of statements about how I needed to get another bike. That makes me crazy. I love my motorcycle. Stefan has done so much to it to make it fit for me to ride, and I'm just not willing to downgrade yet. It also was frustrating - I wondered if men got this same advice if they ever admitted to what I admitted to. Of course, male motorcycle riders NEVER admit to any weakness, so... ;-)

Motorcycle riding keeps me humble, that's for sure. I'm an expert in a lot of things, but I'll never be an expert at that.

One person said I was going to have to accept that I was going to drop my bike more than once. Goodness knows I dropped my Nighthawk more than once... always when I was trying to park. But I've done so well at keeping this KLR 650 looking so beautiful - I want it to always be beautiful...

What I've decided I need, instead of the advice I was offered:

• To start doing arm and hand exercises three times a week
• To make and follow a plan to lose 20 pounds (weight loss helped me SO much on my first bike - less between my thighs means better foot placement)
• To take Stefan at his word that he's not going to get mad when I drop the bike. Especially if I dent his fabulous panniers. 
• To do my best at the Team Oregon class I'm going to take next month - and maybe even schlep up to Vancouver, Washington and take the Motorcycle Safety Foundation bike bonding class as well
• To keep riding
• To not share so much online about my motorcycle riding abilities.

Will I ever not be a novice motorcycle rider?

I've been riding a motorcycle now for almost seven years. And I still say I'm a novice rider.

It must be wonderful to grow up riding dirt bikes. When I see motorcycle riders now that seem so utterly comfortable, so at-one with their motorcycles, and I get the chance to talk to them, it always turns out that they started riding dirt bikes as a teen - even a pre-teen.

My husband didn't ride dirt bikes. He didn't start riding a motorcycle regularly until he was 27, yet, by 30, he was riding his motorcycle with such incredible grace and confidence and, well, I would say perfection, like he had been doing it for oh-so-long. I'm not saying he could do the Dakar Rally, but nothing seems to intimidate him as a rider, not sharp turns on a hill, not turning around on a hill on a one-lane road, not gravel.

Me, on the other hand... I'm Ms. Barely-the-Speed-Limit off the interstate. All motorcyclists and drivers hate being behind me off the interstate. Let's face it: 99% of riders and drivers go at least 10 miles over the speed limit, even on winding, narrow roads. I go around curves as quickly as I feel comfortable, and that always turns out to be the speed limit. I'd be okay with that if it weren't for the long line of cars and motorcycles that often end up behind me, or that one car following too close, or seeing my husband in my mirror and knowing he'd so love to be going faster.

But I think if you see me riding, even if you are following me, you don't think I'm a novice rider - just an overly-cautious one. I think my form is pretty good, and I really do enjoy riding off of main road (the freeway, and anything with lots of traffic lights). I enjoy gravel that isn't too complicated - I was going up and down Dixie Mountain Road and Otto Miller Road with quite a lot of confidence in 2013 and 2014. I've had a bit of a set back in confidence since my wreck in Utah last year. But I'm getting more and more comfortable again. If I didn't still really enjoy riding a motorcycle, I'd quit - and I still really do so enjoy it, and I want to not only keep riding in the USA, but do more ambitious trips in Mexico and Chile in the coming years.

But if you see me when I park my motorcycle, or leave a parking place, you know I'm still a novice rider. And it's during those times when I think - maybe I'll never get this. And it's when a lot of people watch me and think, wow, she's a novice. She must have just gotten her license last month.

The areas that I just cannot master so far - or even just feel comfortable with:

• Sharp turns immediately after an uphill stop
• Stopping and starting on an incline
• Turning around on an incline
• Parking (if it involves any of the above, to park or to get out of my parking place)

I loathe driving in cities because they involve all of the aforementioned. The idea of driving in Portland, even Beaverton, and especially Oregon City, makes me start sweating profusely - even just sitting here on the couch, not about to ride anywhere.

How do I practice these things? How do you practice something that, if you get wrong, you drop your bike?

I really need a one-on-one class to work on these things with someone who really knows what they are doing and how to transfer those skills. I'd love a class on how to better ride on dirt and gravel as well - especially how to stop. Stefan has been really wonderful teaching me dirt and gravel riding techniques, but we both think another person, who is really comfortable teaching novices, would be so helpful. But I cannot find such a class.

I have emailed and called and left a message with a training center in Washington state that shall remain nameless that offers a range of dirt bike and ADV rider courses, but they never called or emailed me back. I finally got someone via IM chat, but he wasn't clear on what class he thought I should take - and even suggested one class that seemed more about learning to camp via motorcycle - which I am quite experienced at doing - than a class to teach me the skills I need.

I took the Advanced Rider Training class with Team Oregon, and it did help me with cornering, but I got the impression the class is really about learning to go AS FAST AS POSSIBLE, safely, around curves. I'm just not interested in going fast... though I'd like to go faster, and this course did help. I also got the impression that the instructors were frustrated with me - they didn't like that I just couldn't go as fast as the other riders. It wasn't a nurturing environment - just a "Here's how you do it. Now do it. Okay, you didn't do it right, so I'll tell you again." I'll be trying another Team Oregon course, Rider Skills Practice (RSP), in May, since it's all I can find. Unfortunately, Motorcycle Safety Foundation courses aren't offered in Oregon - I loved their basic rider's course back in Kentucky (so supportive, so clear, so fun!), and I would SO love to take its Ultimate Bike-Bonding RiderCourse (patterned after police training courses).

And I'd still love to find a one-on-one trainer to help me with those bulleted items, and with riding better on dirt and gravel. Anyone?

I am always aspiring to be a better motorcycle rider. Always. I sure would like some help in that quest.

Second work week in Ukraine done!

A reminder: this is a personal blog of personal reflections and opinions. It's not journalism. I'm making no effort whatsoever to be fair or balanced. My observations will not necessarily be someone else's - you may disagree with how I have observed and interpreted something. How I interpret what I see won't be how someone standing right next to me might see it. All I hope is that I come from a place of honesty and sincerity in my observations - but I make no claims here to being impartial or even kind here. This isn't about being "right" or "wrong" - it's all opinion and about what I'm experiencing, from my point of view. It's all perspective. My perspective. Only mine.

A tweet I sent this week:

Dear USA: this is what a civilized society looks like: 
"I will be out of the office 27 Jul - 25 Aug for my annual leave." #novacationnation

Every time I email someone in Europe and get this message, I'm reminded of how much my husband gave up to move to the USA with me. Most people in Ukraine - just like all of Europe - take four weeks or so off in July or August - so I have gotten this message a lot for the last two weeks.

It's kept you up at night, and you are dying to ask: how are my ankles? Each morning, they are fine - boney and skinny, as they should be. During the day, I prop them up whenever I remember to on a box under my desk - which is full of lovely commemorative medals that I guess are handed out to really high-profile visitors. Hoping that once my Ukrainian office mate realizes I'm using such as a foot stool, she will not freak out. My desk has the front closed off, so I can't use a chair to rest my feet on, and I've hunted all over for something else to prop my feet up, to no avail. Anyway, box-o-medals helps tremendously: by the end of the day, only my right ankle is a bit swollen, just on the sides. Once it cools off, I'm going to start walking home every day, and that should take care of the swelling once and for all.

One of the things I love to do when I'm on a trip with Stefan is to seek out local beer. We've always done that in Europe - and it's surreal that we can do it now in the USA, that so many cities do have a local beer. Seeking out local beer is a way to experience the local scene. So, of course, I've been sampling beers in Kyiv. Soooo good. Soooo cheap. No after taste, like so many USA micro brews. Well done, Ukraine!

I'm so afraid I'm going to jinx it by saying this… and it's only the end of week two… BUT I LOVE MY JOB. Oh my goodness, I love love love it. I love trying to find simple ways to say incredibly complex things about humanitarian response and anti-corruption reform and on and on. Every day has these moments that are incredibly intense, or fun, or scary, or awesome. I go into work every day exhilarated and terrified. I LOVE working with other people again, every day, and what's great is that most of these international folks are just like me: here to do a very specific job in just 2-3 months, and then we're OUT OF HERE. It makes us all hyper focused, and that's an awesome way to work. But, as I said earlier, there are times I feel like I'm playing international aid worker - surely this is just a dream?! I cannot tell you how much I needed this job emotionally, spiritually and, of course, professionally. But… I'm also counting the days until I leave. I know I could never do this full time every day for more than, say, eight weeks... I'd wear out. It's too intense for me in the long term. I'm old. I love roller coasters, but I couldn't ride one every day, or even every week. I'm going to enjoy the hell out of this - and then be oh so happy when it's over. I am so looking forward to just walking around my neighborhood back in Oregon, petting all the neighbor cats and dogs, and playing in my garden. When this job is over, I've got to figure out what I'm going to do with myself, professionally speaking, as I don't want to run off like this all the time (except for FUN rather than work)... But that's something I don't have to think about right now.

On Thursday, the big boss said,'"You'll have to teach me how Twitter works."
Yes, the head of all our organization's operations in Ukraine said that to me.
While eating peanuts off my desk.
Peanuts are powerful.

I joke with him freely. I don't care. They hired me, this is me, love it and embrace it or fire me. I'm 48. I don't play reindeer games anymore. And so far, he digs it. And my peanuts.

This week I was sitting in a meeting room, waiting for a presentation, different people start coming in... and in walks one of my colleagues from my time in Kabul, a guy from Nepal that I liked very much. I almost started crying. He recognized me, and we had a joyous reunion. He's here in Ukraine to help re: the internally-displaced people (IDP) situation (they aren't called "refugees", since they are displaced within their own country). He has so much work to do…

I've blogged elsewhere about what my work days are like, if you're interested.

On Tuesday, I walked around a block next to my office (the block we're actually on is long, goes down a long hill, and isn't interesting). Our building is right on the edge of a gorgeous neighborhood that's quite trendy with government officials. There's a flower shop around the corner that has kind of done this lattice border thingy around the trees out front that I've tried to do in my yard - they've done it with sticks, I've done it with bamboo. I also saw a downstairs pub in the next block, and talked my office mate into taking me. She didn't want to - she wanted to go to the fancy schmancy Italian restaurant down the street, but there was no time, and I said, "Hey, what about that place in the basement over there?" It was, of course, delightful, with a simple, delicious three courses for lunch (some kind of soup, some kind of chicken and potato stew, some kind of something - and Kvass to drink). It looked like any simple local pub restaurant in Germany or Belgium or wherever. It's my favorite meal here so far. And she kept apologizing for it!

As you may have read on this blog elsewhere, I have a driver that takes me to the office every day, something my host so generously arranged. It's a dude with a car, a friend of another dude with another car that my friend usually uses (my friend doesn't have her own car - not really needed here, if you stay in the city). This new driver, very young, speaks a little English, and was in the USA once, in Pennsylvania. I pay him less than $10 a day - that's the going rate. As I'm not paying rent (despite my pleas to do so), and it's so freakin' hot every day, and it's a 40 minute walk to work, $10 is totally worth it. I just wish his English was good enough to answer me all the times I say, "What's that?" I gave him a tip on Friday, telling him I wouldn't need him in the afternoon, as I would walk home - and then had to call him to drive to my friend's before she left for work to get my glasses, which I'd forgotten to bring. ARGH! I'm so not used to working outside of the house daily...

And then I didn't walk home on Friday. By 4 p.m., I realized it was going to have to work at least until 6, maybe later. We were all pushing hard to get a major document out to HQ back in NYC, before a big important visit next week. Finally, it was done. I sent it to everyone it needed to be sent to, and then I ran out of work. Barefoot. I RAN. It was 7 p.m., my car with my friends was waiting, and I didn't want anyone to be able to find me to ask me for one more table, one more graphic, one more paragraph change. So I kicked off my work shoes (I leave them at the office under my desk), I grabbed my Tevas and I RAN RAN RAN down the steps and across the compound and through the gate and into the waiting car. And I came back to the apartment were I'm staying, and we ate fresh bread and gorgeous cheese, and salmon, and drank champagne and Maker's Mark… oh, it's so hard here, how will I get through it….

My friend here with whom I'm living has a cat. The cat is big - even bigger than Gray Max, and all black. And psychotic. In a good way. Other people have reported he's bitten or scratched them. He hasn't done that to me but, then again, I wait for the cat to come to me, even if it takes days, before I pet him. He loves me only in the mornings, when my hosts are asleep. Then he's around my legs and talking to me. And my reply is always the same: "No, I will not feed you. That's someone else's job. It doesn't mean I don't I love you." My nights consist sometimes of just drinking beer and playing with the cat. My friend's husband took a wine box and made a house out of it, and the cat attacks it nightly, from the inside. I joke that I've actually been recruited for a cat cult, as our lives, at night, seem to revolve around watching the cat. I have gone out once after work, but at the end of the day, I'm so wiped out, I just want to go home. I save my socializing and exploring for the weekends.

The food here is just incredible - so many fresh veggies and fruits. I am so missing my gorgeous tomatoes I've been growing for months back in Oregon - but my consolation prize of fresh veggies and fresh fish is quite a reward. And Kvass, of course! Everyone eats fresh fruits and veggies when they bring their lunch. I usually bring my lunch - and I'm astounded that the Ukrainian staff here promptly cleans up after themselves in the communal kitchen.

It looks like the last 90 degree (32 degree Celsius) day was Thursday this week, according to the weather forecasts. I hate a big city when it's 90 degrees or more - especially when I have an office mate that hates air conditioning. I have never sweated through so many clothes, not even in my own unairconditioned house in Oregon in these horribly hot days of summer. Ukranians aversion to air blowing on them here is… weird.

Ukrainian women are the model of Western beauty. Wow. Some overdo it with the hair and makeup, but most are just naturally gorgeous, with smooth, clear skin and lovely hair and features - some with round faces, some with long faces, all with beautiful faces. It's so intimidating. Many do wear the crazy high shoes I've heard so much about - and seen in Portland, Oregon quite a lot - but flats are definitely popular here as well now. See-through skirts and see-through dresses remain the norm here - I was warned about that, and it's definitely true. What I love is that, at least in downtown, men don't give them even a second glance. I look more than they do. I will say… and I'm sorry if I offend… but so far, I haven't found the men here all that attractive. In Afghanistan, there were men who were so beautiful. In Serbia as well. But Ukraine… all the men have buzz cuts and look like they aren't even trying, in terms of dressing to look half way attractive. And those are my sweeping generalizations for today! Hope I've offended lots of folks!

Speaking of offending, I'm keeping notes for a post-deployment blog - things I can't post now, while I'm here, but can later, once I'm out of the country and out of this job. Does that whet your appetite? Are you intrigued?!?

Pictures soon - aiming for Sunday night to post some.

Interesting comparison by @BBCMonitoring of Ukraine & Russia media messaging, how dissent is handled (or ignored).

Russia's incursions since 1990 have never ended well for Russia - even when they "win", they lose.

How I got to Ukraine

Yes, I'm in Ukraine!

But how did I get here?

Saturday, in the wee hours, Stefan drove me and my three pieces of luggage (one bag to check, two bags to carry on - that's it) to PDX, something he rarely gets to do anymore (my flights to anywhere are usually on work days). Our goodbye was super short - PDX has reduced the drop off drive to just TWO lanes, and 5 a.m. is always a madhouse at departures even when all lanes are available. Had we known, we would have cheated and gone to arrivals. As it was, it was a very quick goodbye that didn't at all reflect that we were saying goodbye for TWO MONTHS.

In the security line, I got chosen for some kinda special rapid screening - I didn't have to take off my shoes, to unpack liquids or my computer... I asked, loudly, "Really, I don't have to unpack my computer?!" The woman looked kind of angry and said, "Just enjoy it!". I couldn't. I was too flummoxed. Checked a bag for the first time in more than 2 years. Hope I see it in Kiev tomorrow...

Near my departure gate, I found Rose's Restaurant and Bakery, across from Starbuck's. The line at Starbuck's was outrageous. I just needed some breakfast before the plane - I was eschewing coffee for the next few days in my effort to fight jet lag. And Rose's had BISCUITS AND GRAVY. I avoid pork, but can't say no to b & g. It wasn't really that great, but the psychological effect of having my favorite breakfast was amazing.

Once I boarded the plane, I slept about 2 hours - a decent sleep, in fact, because the seats next to me were empty. Once I couldn't sleep anymore, I listened to Thrilling Stories of the Railway, by Victor Whitechurch, narrated by Benedict Cumberbatch - it's just under 2 hours total. They are detective stories, and BC reads all the dialogue in different character voices - and he's SOOOOO damn good I forgot at times it was just one guy reading. I enjoyed them so much, I might listen to them again.

I got to JFK C terminal and it was like a freakin' developing country. I have not seen that amount of confusion, chaos, crowding and cultural diversity at an airport since the old terminal in Dubai, the one for the flights to Afghanistan, Iraq and China. I could not believe how horrible it was. There were just two bathrooms in all of C terminal, and the woman working in the one I was using had given up - she was just sitting on the counter, watching people line up for the stalls, and when one would clog up, she'd put an "out of order" sign. After working my way through the sea of anxious, angry people waiting for flights in tiny, crapped waiting areas, I finally found a seat over by some pilot's lounge and sat there for two hours trying to use the Boingo Internet system - which is CRAP - frequent dropped signals, SLOW Internet, and I had to use different browsers to get different sites to work.

I had gotten a notice at the checkin machine at PDX that I would have to get my seat for the Prague flight at JFK. About 90 minutes before my flight, I waded again through the sea of people to the gate where my flight would depart. And my experience was basically this:

1st Delta gate agent: "You don't have a seat assignment for this flight because there are none. You just get on when it's time to board."

Me: "Really? On an INTERNATIONAL Delta flight?"

Her: (smug) Yes.

2nd Delta gate agent that showed up 20 minutes later. "Of course there are seat assignments. I have no idea why you don't have one. Here is your seat assignment."

I tweeted madly about the experience, but Delta ignored me, just as they had done regarding this reservation stupidity.

I ended up with a good seat, in most ways: in the aisle of a two seat exit row. That means I had PLENTY of leg room. But the downsides: I couldn't put the seat back. I never put the seat back all the way, or even half way - I'm not that cruel to fellow passengers. But just a little would have helped with sleep on that oh-so-long flight. And I wasn't at the window, so I couldn't lean on anything - and that makes sleep really difficult, if not impossible.

I watched "Saving Mr. Banks", and ended up weeping through the last half so much I think I scared the guy next to me. I would love to have watched more movies, but I knew the most important thing was sleep. I had a couple of glasses of red wine, lots and lots of water, and then did my best to sleep. I slept off and on, quite fitfully, for 4 hours. It wasn't at all a restful sleep. When someone bumped my arm and I raised my eye thingy up, all the lights were on and breakfast was being served. And it was HORRIBLE. First really horrific meal I've had on a plane in years. Just SO bad - there were these sugar-coated croutons and a little bread thing with some kind of horrific cheese product baked into it. There was no coffee - the plane didn't have hot water for some reason. But, as I mentioned, I was abstaining from coffee. I just keep slamming down water as much as possible.

I arrived in Prague on a gorgeous Sunday. I so love this city, even the airport. It took my breath away from the plane window, remembering a long weekend with Stefan here ages ago. At Prague Airport, I saw staff on Segways & line skating through the terminal. The airport was clean, full of services and plenty of room for seating. Unlike JFK. It also was heavy on the luxury product ads and stores. I had forgotten how obsessed Eastern Europeans are with luxury brand names.

I hadn't had to go through security again at JFK, but I did at Prague. I set the alarm off, something I NEVER do - the security guard never did find out what it was that did so. Then we boarded the plane. I was so glad the horrible men in the row across from me weren't behind me - one kept putting his feet up on the seat in front of him, jostling the woman in that seat, and she'd turn around and let him have it, and he'd offer up some lame excuse as to why it was okay - all of this was in Czech or Russian or Ukrainian, I'm not sure which, but it was intense. And then the woman in front of our row asked us to turn off the air, because it was bothering her. As a row, we all refused - it was hot, and the air was blowing directly on us, not her. I found out later that this is very typical for Ukrainians - they don't like any air blowing on them. They will sit in sauna-like conditions rather than turn on a fan or air conditioner, both of which they think lead to widespread illness. Ugh.

Okay, I've just put two stereotypes about Eastern Europeans in this blog. Let the hate mail begin.

As I deplaned, after more than 20 hours on planes and in airports, all I could think was: I have to do all of this again on Oct. 3, in reverse, back to the USA, then turn around and fly BACK to Europe 48 hours later, all because Delta Airlines is being RIDICULOUS. I hope I've at least cost Delta some customers. And as I mentioned here, if I die because of deep vein thrombosis (DVT) as a result of the unnecessary flying Delta is forcing me to do, I hope Stefan becomes a multi-millionaire suing them.

And so, it was late afternoon local time when I arrived in Kyiv (or Kiev), Ukraine. It was SO HOT. The only breeze was me going through security. I was at least happy over security being easy, and my checked bag showing up. I had trouble finding my driver, and almost made a huge mistake and walked out of the airport to look for him - you can't get back in if you do that, and we might never have found each other. But he found me, because he saw the company logo on a paper I was holding in my hand. Hurrah! He was very nice. And I made it to my friend Ann's just fine.

And… I'll give you my impressions of Kiev in my next blog!

Ukraine Jayne

Hey, it rhymes!

Yes, I'm going to Kiev, Ukraine, for two months - all but two days in August and all of September. I'll return to the USA oh-so-briefly, then head back to Europe for an already-planned-and-booked vacation in Germany. So, I'll pretty much not be in the USA for three months.

I'll be posting about the professional part of my work here, as well as on all my various social media channels. Here's more about the job.

I'm so looking forward to getting to do this kind of work again! I'm excited, I'm nervous, I'm thrilled, I'm scared - not of the political situation in Ukraine but of meeting the expectations of this job! It's a terrific opportunity for me professionally, and I'm so lucky to have a husband who is thrilled for me to get this chance to do this work again and to visit a city we've both heard amazing things about.

It's going to be so different than some of the other work I've done in other countries: I'll get to go out to dinner at night if I want, there won't be armed guards at the groceries, I won't have to wear a head scarf... woot!

Of course, this job comes at a cost:

• I will miss Government Cheese in Nashville and all of the wonderful people going to that concert that I was SO looking forward to seeing. I haven't seen the Cheese since just a couple of years after I graduated from WKU, way back in the 1800s or something. Anyone want to buy my ticket?
• I won’t get to meet someone I've known online for a very long time but haven't met face-to-face, that I was SO looking forward to meeting (don't worry, it's not creepy)
• I don’t get to help out my Mom as I hoped to in August
• I don’t get to go drinking with my friend Carol back in my hometown in August and catch up on the 30 years since I left 
• I don't get to go to Austin, Texas - my spiritual home - in September (flights already booked)
• I will miss all of my tomato crop (I've had ONE so far)
• I'll miss September and October, two of the very prettiest months here in the Pacific Northwest. I'll be missing great weather, and lots of great motorcycle riding. 
• I'll miss my husband and not-my-cat terribly

That's the cost of doing this type of short-term work overseas - it never happens at a convenient time, and you can't anticipate it - it just happens, BOOM.

The worst part, though, is Delta Airlines: I already have a roundtrip ticket booked with them for Germany, for a vacation with Stefan. My Ukraine contract ends just three days before I was to arrive in Germany from the USA in October. You would think Delta would simply let me keep that ticket - already paid for - and then just not use the USA to Germany part, allowing me to simply buy a flight from Kiev to Frankfurt, and then using just the return ticket - again, it's all already paid for. And you would be WRONG. Unless I fly out from the USA to Germany, I would pay almost $5000 for the flight back from Germany to the USA! If I don't show up for the outbound flight, they will cancel my return ticket! So I have to fly all the way back to the USA from Ukraine, stay TWO days, and get right back on a plane for Europe. Can you believe it?!? There is no logic for this. None. None whatsoever.

Anyway...

That's my big news. And once this job is over, I will have, at last, pulled in a yearly income in 2014 above the poverty line, for the first time since moving back to the USA in 2009! Woot! Of course, 80% of the income has been European...

Travelogue for two-week motorcycle trip in Utah & Nevada

Two-Week Motorcycle Tour, Mostly in Utah, Nevada & Oregon
June 2014
2989 miles / 4810.329 kilometers

I've put the blog on the travel portion of my web site, with plenty of photos:

• Part One
• Part Two (the crash!)
• Part Three

In case you don't want to read the entire travelogue, but want some quick advice for your own motorcycle trip to the area, then here is a list of the very best of times, the absolute highest of highlights:

• The host at the Farewell Bend Oregon State Park (I LOVE volunteer camp hosts!)
• Cleveland-Lloyd Dinosaur Quarry
• Capitol Reef National Park (the most under-rated national park)
• Goblin Valley (so overlooked! so fabulous!)
• Camping in a cow pasture in the deserts of Nevada (yes, again)
• Sheldon National Wildlife Refuge