Dave Ford Does Earth

Posted by Dave Ford

OUR HOOD AND A TRIP TO TARGET …..

I live in Brooklyn, New York. But, depending on who you ask, the specific neighborhood is either Park Slope, South Slope, Greenwood Heights, or Sunset Park. I am not sure that anyone is 100% sure as 1/4 of our building lies in each of those areas. The main commercial strip is 5th Avenue. Its full of shops: Pizza shops, grocery stores, discount stores, laundry mats, hardware stores, etc.etc.etc.(pictured: Not sure who this is, but he lives in Brooklyn)

It is also full of people. There are about 2.5 million people living in Brooklyn alone–according to the 2000 US census 38% of these people were born abroad.

The US Census was not wrong. I feel like I am still touring the world. Indians. Puerto Ricans. Turks. Mexicans. Greeks. Thai. Central Americans. Polish. Chinese. Russian. Africans. Dominicans. Irish. Italians. Jews. On our block there is a Synagogue, Islamic school, and a church. It is not a wonder why the United Nations is headquartered in NYC. (pictured: The United Nations Building in Manhattan)

The Puerto Ricans run the small grocery store up the block. I found out quickly that the polish grocery store is entirely too expensive. $4.49 for a small box of Honey Bunches of Oats simply will not fly. We have a discount store in the hood as well–NON STOP DISCOUNTS. Which is run by a suave middle eastern man. At 40 bucks, I thought that the semi-crappy desk chair I bought from him was a steal. Then, the other day at Target, I found a chair 10 times better for $20 bucks. I became full of enraged fury, sort of like one of the characters in Mortal Kombat before they rip the head off of there defeated opponent. But I managed to control my emotions and maintain my good natured humor. It is a new sensation for me to be price sensitive. I am still getting used to it.

After I contained my rage, I slowly moseyed over to the blender/juicer department at target. You see, I have decided that I am going to be healthy. This is as opposed to the last 10 years of my life where I have been anything but healthy. Unfortunately, the blender aisle was blocked by a young couple. The man looked to be about 30 while the woman was who-knows-how-old because she was in a full Burka. My deductive reasoning led me to believe that they were either Saudi Arabian, Pakistani, or Afgani. The couple was not exactly arguing, but they were not in agreement about the type of blender they were ready to purchase. I patiently waited and then bought both a juicer and a blender. Who knew that you could not juice bananas or blend carrots? What happens if I wanted a carrot smoothie.

THE NUGE

I think it is about time that I introduce my roommate. His name is Pat Nugent. Since I met him in college he has been know simply as “the Nuge”. The Nuge wears many hats: Bicycle Tour Guide, English Professor, my personal grammar coach, tri-athlete, poet, and professional chicken and pasta maker. For the last two weeks while I have been in New York the two of us have spent close to every waking minute together. I do not have a job as of yet and “the Nuge” spends much of his time at home studying vocabulary–for the GRE’s– and grading English papers. So far the toughest vocabulary words that he has encountered are perspicacity, piquancy, hidebound, chary, and abreact. If you know any of these words congratulations, you are a dork.

As always, we appreciate your comments!

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Posted by Dave Ford

HATE ON THE SUBWAY

This morning I sat on the subway across from a white man–probably around my age–who had the letters H-A-T-E tattooed across the knuckles of his left hand from pointer to pinky. I thought about asking him what it was exactly that he hated so much but his scowl gave me the impression that the conversation would have ended with the word hate tattooed on my forehead. In hindsight, I should have asked him anyway. What the hell? I really do wonder what he hates: The government? The rain? The Olson twins? hipsters? Reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond? The only things that I hate with a passion are lima beans and Celine Dion’s music. Something tells me that this dude also hates Celine Dion. Maybe we could have found common ground and became friends.

A TIME WARP ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BRIDGE

In the afternoon I picked up my bike at the shop in the East Village and rode to our place in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. Along the way, I had to traverse the East River, which divides Manhattan from Brooklyn and Queens. I decided to take the Williamsburg Bridge into Brooklyn and was thrust into a sprawling Hasidic Jewish neighborhood. By and large, the only people visible in this neighborhood were of the Hasidic community. Their distinct, traditional black dress and curly sideburns are unmistakable. While wondering what it must be like to be a Hasidic Jew in NYC I got terribly lost. I did not know that Hasidicville borders scarytown and run-for-your-life land. The 5 miles turned quickly into 10 but I did manage to escape the afternoon unscathed. I did some research and found that a massive wave of Hasidic Jews immigrated from Eastern Europe to the USA in the 1880’s. Their style of dress is reminiscent of what the Jewish population in Eastern Europe wore 130 years ago.

Sidenote: My bike helmet is too small and I look like a huge dork.

MIDNIGHT NUTRITION IN BUSHWICK

Last night I went out in Bushwick, a 40 minute bike ride north of where I live. Bushwick is industrial, dirty, and remote. Many of the buildings are covered in graffiti. But despite its desolate appearance, this neighborhood is teeming with life. If you turned Bushwick upside down and shook it real hard at least 20,000 hipsters would fall out. There is also more dog shit on the ground then in Paris and Buenos Aires combined. But, make no mistake, a positive vibe runs through the community.

My friend Jesse and I went to a party–my first party in New York.  From the outside the building looked like a factory. We walked down concrete hallways and saw that there was at least 60 people in the large loft. There was a DJ booth and a stage. At the time of our arrival there was some sort of performance art happening. Three women–one in her 20s, one in her 30s, and one who looked like she was 60–were on stage doing some sort of spoken word/singing/dance combination. Among other things that did not make sense, the phrases “Are you OK?”, “Am I OK?”, and “I am OK” were projected on the screen behind the women. The women would sing and chant in unison whatever was projected. If I said their act was extremely weird and borderline unsettling would that be judgmental?

Next,  the party host played a slide show of his art. It consisted of garbage that he picked up off of the street in the neighborhood and had covered with multicolored layered wax. His premise was that he took something ugly and made it beautiful.

At right around midnight “the chef” took the stage. For the next 10 minutes she gave a presentation to the group about “the new food nutrition pyramid.” Apparently, the old food pyramid was created by the government to appease the fast food giants. I realized quickly that I need to eat a hell of lot more whole grains, natural oils, and vegetables. Shortly thereafter, it hit me that I was getting a presentation about nutrition at midnight on a Saturday night and that I needed to leave immediately.

We left the party and promptly went to a local bar. A stinky dance party ensued shortly thereafter.

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Posted by Dave Ford

After a year and a half of wandering through North and South America–with a brief stint in Africa–I have finally come to the point where a rest is necessary. For both personal and financial reasons–if you have not heard the dollar is not doing so hot–I have decided to take a break from the rolling vacation. Chapter 1 has taken among many other places through Bariloche, Argentina; Florianapolis, Brazil; San Pedro de Atacama, Chile; Antarctica; Arequipa, Peru; Rurrenabaque, Bolivia; Taganga, Colombia; Havana, Cuba; Quito, Ecuador; The Galapagos Islands; Arusha,Tanzania; Fernie, Canada; Nashville, Tennessee; New Orleans, Louisiana; Rozwell, New Mexico; Monument Valley, Utah; Grand Canyon, Arizona (2); and Los Angeles, California (3). I climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, repelled down a 200 yard cliff in the Amazon Jungle, ate guinea pig, went swimming with pink dolphins, and enjoyed gentle cocktails with hundreds of people from around the world. Through this journey my mind, body, and spirit have developed significantly. I say this because last night, I kicked ass on Jeopardy; I also ran 4 miles the other day without passing out, and have kind-of-sort-of figured out how to live in the moment.

Now, for the first time in a long time, I have my own room. Weird. 4 walls, a door, and a dresser are all mine. My new home is in Brooklyn. My backpack now resides under my bed.

I am living with an old, interesting friend. More to come on “the Nuge”.

In January, I decided to scrap my initial 5-month-overland-Africa-trip. Since then, I have been thinking long and hard about what direction I am going to take this whole thing–this whole thing being my life. After traveling in Tanzania for almost a month, I realized that the Cairo-to-Capetown trip I had originally planned would have taken me deep in the heart of nothingness; No infrastructure, roads barely passable, people suffering from terrible disease. Although I am sure it would have been rewarding, I am not yet ready to endure such an undertaking for such a long time. I plan to do it one day, just not now. Africa’s not going anywhere and for the time being, neither am I.

The Website:

While trekking on Mt. Kilimanjaro I spent much of my time thinking about what this site should look like. I have decided to make some changes. Mainly, I want to make it easier to go back and reference past posts. Unfortunately for travel bloggers like myself, blogs read backwards. Much of my feedback from new readers indicates that it is very hard to make sense of the content as it is all out of order.

Professional Goals:

I made a commitment to myself in South America that I would go into business for myself. This site has been the crux of that business commitment thus far. The blogging world is still relatively new. The reality is that everyone out there is still trying to figure out how to monetize their content.

With this in mind I have decided a few things professionally:

1. I am looking into alternative ways to share my travel experiences. Namely, I am seriously considering planning trips to some of the places I have visited–namely Bolivia, Peru, and throughout Africa. Most of these would be exotic in nature. I would also look at taking small groups of friends, acquaintances, and interested readers. Along the way I have forged friendships with some tremendous travel and wildlife guides. I am currently in talks with some of these fascinating people about planning some adventures over the course of the next few years. I will keep you posted on my progress.

2. There is no doubt about it, I am going to keep writing. Yesterday I moved to New York City. Today I got lost in Manhattan. While stumbling around I encountered a new story around every corner. I quickly realized that I am still traveling. I love not knowing where I am. I don’t know what streets I am on right now and I only sort of know how to get back home to Brooklyn. This feeling of living in a new city is what I will be writing about over the next few months.

3. I am still going to explore the video/podcasting ideas I have been working on. Currently my editor Francis is putting together two videos from my recent Africa trip. The Safari and my Kilimanjaro trek should be produced by the end of the May.

Sidenote: I am buying a bike. Religious people, say some prayers for me. My biking skills need immense improvement. Non religious people, please do not laugh at me when I come tumbling off my sweet new 10 speed.

Travel Goals:

Make no mistake about it. I am still going to be traveling. I have an addiction. Luckily there are no 12 step programs to cure this condition. I am currently working on a few trips in the upcoming future namely to Europe and potentially back to Africa. However, my true fascination of the moment is South East Asia.

Let me know your thoughts by commenting. If you are new to the site sign up for a subscription!

Thanks for reading this last year and a half… I am looking forward to my time here in New York City. For years I have had dreams of living in New York City.

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Posted by Dave Ford

11:40pm

It is freezing. The wind is howling. We are waiting on some of our group to get up out of bed. Somehow Marv and I are awake, changed, and ready to go in ten minutes. Most of our group is here. What could possibly be taking Isaac so long? We are currently at 4600 meters high. By sunrise we need to get close Uhuru Peak. The highest point in Africa is 5825 meters high. That is a long way up.

Marv and I are layered up like a pair of 4 year olds going outside to play in the snow. 3 pairs of socks. Long johns. 2 pairs of pants. 2 sets of gloves. T-shirt. Undershirt. Fleece. Ski Jacket. Hat. Face-mask. It could get as cold as 20 below tonight. I hope we are prepared.

Most importantly, we need to be ready mentally. Minds can play tricks at this altitude. Sub zero wind chill does not help either.

12:30 am

The ascent begins. Finally everyone is ready.

1:30 am

We have only been walking for an hour. But, it feels like longer. Our 12 man group is walking together. Only, we are going too slowly for our liking. Marvin and I are both freezing. I ask our guide Obote if we can walk faster. To our delight he splits the group in half. Marv, Myself, and Eva end up in the fastest group. Daniel is now our guide. Fortunately for us, Daniel likes to sing.

2:40 am

We are walking much faster then before. It is freezing. I cannot feel my fingers or toes. Daniel has been singing the entire way. Marvin and I decide to join in. Eva does not as she is listening to her iPod. We sing some local songs and a little Bob Marley. “No Women No Cry”, helps us take our mind off of what we are doing. All I can see is Eva’s feet. Whenever I look up there is nothing but the headlamps of the groups in front of us, and the stars. An upside down Big Dipper is off to the right—and the Southern Cross is in the distance to our far left.

4:40 am

We are now on the zig zag/switchback portion of the climb. The scree–loose dirt and rocks– that we are walking on now is a pain in the ass to navigate. We slide back a bit with every advance.

5:20 am

We reach the end of the switchbacks and now start our last ascent–straight up. Marvin gets furious at “the way I am walking”. Clearly he has been staring at my feet for too many freezing hours. Later he says that the altitude was getting to him. Something must have been going on as I might be the most graceful walker since Fred Astaire.

5:40 am

We reach the toughest stretch of the mountain. We are almost there. Marvin, Eva, and I begin to scream at the mountain. Marvin stabs hard with his poles to inflict as much pain as possible into the 5825 meter tall monster. “F you mountain”, he screams. “Double F you Mountain”, replys Eva. Except they did not say F.

We reach Stella Point. It is very dark but we begin to see the clouds in the distance turn a bright orange. The sun is coming up. Daniel is still singing. His presence helps make the entire experience bearable. Hopefully with the sun will come warmth. We have another 45 minutes to go to get to Uhuru Peak and the summit. People around us begin to crumble. It appears that we are surrounded by altitude zombies. Not everyone here has had 8 days to acclimatize like we have.

6:00 am-6:45am

We hike the last section of the trail as the sun rises above the clouds. I feel euphoric. The three of us are all out of breath. To the left we are joined by mountainous glaciers, to the right we can see the volcanic crater. For the first time I get first hand evidence that this is an actual volcano. More zombies stumble toward us and behind us, coming to or from the summit. In comparison, our little crew seems to be doing very well. Nonetheless, we have to stop to breath deeply every three or four minutes to get oxygen in our system. Damn this altitude! In the distance behind the glaciers the clouds stretch to the horizon. Our group of 4 is high above them.

Th

6:45am

The sun is above the horizon. In accordance, we reach Uhuru peak. A wooden sign informs us that we are on top of Africa. It also relays the fact that we are on the tallest freestanding volcano in the world. I give Marvin and Daniel huge man hugs. Eva gets a lady hug. We are only allowed to stay for 15 minutes at the top. At this altitude, after that much exertion, that is just fine with us. Amidst the commotion and the picture taking I try to stop for a minute to take it all in. I feel loopy. But, I want to remember this moment. I have to make myself stop and take it all in. We did it! We made it to the top. Euphoria sets in.

Notes:

Marv gets most of the photo credits here as my camera broke. Good work Marvin.

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Posted by Dave Ford

 I just turned  the big 3-0 while hiking the largest mountain in Africa. On top of that, my birthday has been the best day of the 8 day trek. Today we banged out the Barranco wall, a sprawling plateau smack dab on the side of Kilimanjaro rumored to be the hardest obstacle in our way. The kissing rock– the one place where you could easily fall and lose your life–was executed with ease by everyone in our group. Obote, our head guide, made sure to remind us all that the porters hike the Barranco wall with heavy objects balanced on their heads.

After a bought with altitude sickness last night (we slept at 4200 meters), I have made a complete recovery today. I would like to take this opportunity to thank the makers of Diamox, the altitude sickness wonder drug for enabling me to get rid of the worst headache I have endured this millennium. Physically, I find myself in better shape for this trek then any of the others I have completed. I have yet to become sore and surprisingly have no blisters to speak of.  My legs seem to be up to the challenge. I also think I am losing weight.

The summit is  rapidly approaching. Kilimanjaro grows bigger with every step we take.  We are walking  at a meticulously slow pace. Left Foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. At it’s best, we slip into the zone while performing a walking meditation of sorts. At it’s worst, frustration sets in with the old lady stroll that we are forced to adhere to, and the hike becomes boring.

 The first casualty happened this morning. Dave from London, hiking in our adjacent group fell ill from altitude sickness. From the first day he had a pounding headache. Eventually, his fingernails turned blue and he began to  vomit violently.  When it looked as if the sickness had set in for sure, his guides made the call that he should be escorted down the mountain. Dave was young, fit, and seemingly in shape. Altitude sickness can hit anyone at anytime. We later found out that if he would have stayed up on the mountain any longer than he did, he might have died.

 We will reach the summit the day after tomorrow. Our group will go to bed after dinner and be nuged out of slumber–for those that can sleep– around 11 PM. From there, we will have tea and will set off on the final ascent through the wee hours of the night, hopefully reaching the  summit by sunrise. There is a short window in the morning where visibility is clear before the clouds take over the sky.

On a personal note, as I have been hiking I have been thinking quite a bit about my upcoming move to New York City. I find myself daydreaming about the possibilities that the city may create for me and feel a real motivation to work– a motivation I have not had for a long, long time.

But, before I get ahead of myself, there is a certain mountain that needs to be dominated.

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