Poregon

So about a week ago, I was able to go out to Portland, Oregon and visit Alex and his family. The visit was wonderful; Alex has a really incredible family, and they could not have been more generous and hospitable. Besides spending time with his fam, we were also able to explore some different parts of Oregon.

There's a lot to love about Oregon; the rugged beauty, progressive ideals, the beaver as the state animal... I could go on. I do however, have two favorite things about Oregon. I love how Oregonians pronounce the word "peninsula", and I love their obsession with Lewis and Clark. On the east coast, we learn that Lewis and Clark were explorers; that they hung out with Daniel Boone and Paul Bunyan and wore raccoons as hats, and then we move on.

In Oregon, they continue to celebrate their founding fathers by naming every park, school and bridge after L&C. Every year, thousands of Oregonians put on their finest deerskin leggings and set their wagon pace to grueling so that they can come out and celebrate Lewis and Clark Day.

You can't make this stuff up

But I digress. Alex and I spent a wonderful day hiking and climbing in mountains north of Portland. We saw gorgeous waterfalls, and had a picnic next to a river fueled by glacial run off. The paths were rocky and thin, at times having no more that a two foot wide path of slippery rocks that dropped sharply off to a cliff of death. For me, this modest hike was beautiful and difficult. It really made me think about how dangerous and unpredictable life was for the early explores.

Me as an outdoors woman! Before you know it,
I'll be eating beef jerky and spam!

I'm always amazed when I think of people who leaped into the truly unknown. People packed up their entire lives, left everything they'd ever known because there was this whisper of a better life somewhere else. In my romanticized version of the past, people just like me felt an unquenchable urge for some thing different, something new. Something better. They wanted to see how far they could push themselves, and to they hoped be rewarded for their ambition and strength.

As a new college graduate, I've found myself wondering what adventure means to a twenty-something in the twenty first century. I can't exactly picture myself hiking across the U.S., living in stick huts and forging for maze. Besides, since Lewis and Clack, most of our country has been systematically charted and recorded, and then planned and developed. I'm not entirely lamenting the loss of the great unknown- I do not do portapottys, and deerskin makes my thighs looks big- yet I am looking for a way to push my self. As I stare directly into the prospect of starting a job that I could have for the next 30 years, I start to get anxious. The current economy is acting, for me, as an excuse to take unpaid internships that last a few months, rather than commit myself indefinitely to a job. I'm scared of getting stuck, of never exploring, and worst of all, of never pushing myself to what I am capable of.

Maybe the new adventure isn't about moving yourself physically. Perhaps we've evolved from pushing our physical limits, to now finding what we're capable of mentally and spiritually. Maybe now that we've explored this world, it's time to figure out how to create peace, and make this world a better place. It's time to figure out what truly makes you happy, and then to pursue it, with no alternative. Cheesy, I know, but I also think it's true.

Maybe. Or maybe it's time for me to put on my raccoon hat and hit the ground running.