Like Work Only Better

Just another Thursday: A 6:00 a.m. mountain bike ride, a bit of time answering e-mails, pitching stories and editing photographs, taking 10 guys from Santa Monica out and showing them how to rock climb and rappel, teaching a 6:00 p.m. yoga practice and finishing the day with a dinner and margarita meeting for July's Big Bear PaddleFest.

Yesterday illustrates exactly why I live in a small, mountain town and why I moved here in the first place. Well, at least some concept of why I moved to Big Bear. Though not my first choice, Big Bear has grown on me. I always knew a mountain town was more in step with my energy and spirit. Living in the city mid-week and escaping to Mammoth, the Sierras or hiking LA's less urban trails wasn't a horrible existence but it always left depressed on Monday's and counting the hours until the next weekend. I enjoyed my time in LA, even consider myself a successful city-dweller, but I counldn't return.

Although, I have to admit the transition to small-town living was not easy. The first two years we were here, we didn't have a clue. No friends - only acquaintances. Spent much of our time remodeling the house and continuing to drive for outdoor escapes. Didn't really engage much outside of our city circle-of-friends. I would have to say it wasn't until we started to mountain bike that we began to meet people with similar interests. Until then I wasn't too sure there were truly outdoorsy people in Big Bear. As we started to spend more time mountain biking and less time remodeling, we tapped into a vibrant, outdoor community. And with this came a sense of place and belonging - that if something ever happened to us or we needed someone to check on our house while traveling, we'd get help or we'd know whom to call.

The most imporant thing about living in this small, mountain community is that it gave me the license to explore a lifestyle that had always resonated with me - what most might consider a risky or quirky way of earning a living. I had often dreamed of chucking the 9-to-5 corporate job and piece-mealing my earnings from multiple sources, but I didn't think I could do this while living in Los Angeles. In fact, it took me almost 3 years to discover I could do it here. The truth: I work harder than I ever have before. Maintain longer hours because, at the end of the day, I have no guarantee money will flutter into my bank account every other Friday. And even after 2 1/2 years of this existence, I find it at times scary. But I wouldn't change a thing and mitigate my fears with thoughts of not being able to meet friends for a long, mid-morning mountain bike ride or not being able to linger at my local coffee house.

American Worker - Ski Patrol!

Not to drag out our Russian adventure, but Matt found a link referencing the Competition. See http://www.risk.ru/users/6floor/3674. These were taken by two snowboarders from Petropavlovsk that were filming the Race. There are some excellent images of the more technical sections Matt and Scott had to negotiate. The translation under Matt's photo goes something like, "Matt Theis, American worker, ski patrol."

As they say, "No Risk, No Fun!"

Back Home

After picking up our luggage (all of our luggage this time) and filling up the car's tank ($4.05 a gallon - what the hell happened while we were gone?), we began the long drive to pick up McGyver and head home to Big Bear. Over the weekend we unpacked, did about 5 loads of laundry, sifted through our mail, caught up with friends and saw two of them off as they move on to Bend, Oregon. The jet lag took hold on Sunday evening as I lay staring at the ceiling for hours listening to Pink Floyd. Sleep came about 3:00 a.m. and was interrupted at 7:00 for a planned farewell-mountain-bike ride for other friends moving to Taos, New Mexico.

While it is a let down not to be skiing in Kamchatka, it is good to be home. We have made the promise to simplify our lives even further. In 2002, after returning from Lake Baikal in Central Siberia we left the big city, bought a house and moved to Big Bear Lake - a small mountain town in Southern California's San Bernardino Mountains. Though I am not sure what will be the result of our trip this time I do know we spent the weekend contemplating our trip, drinking a lot of tea, avoiding our cell phones, the news and television, and parked the car and rode our bikes everywhere.

Perhaps this will be the new direction of Airstream Nomad - a continuation of Kamchatka and our quest to enjoy every day and eeek out a living in a small town doing the same.