introducing the dispatch
Thoughts from public land in the West.
At 9:30pm on New Years eve we rolled to the top of Teton pass in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I was crammed into the front seat of a Subaru beneath my good friend and currently heavy ski partner, Jack. Sprung free from the car we shoved frozen fingers in gloves, toes in boots, and danced to stay warm in the 10 degree night. They were all new locals, having lived in Jackson for under two weeks. They were working insane hours, keeping the town afloat during the new-years weekend rush. Still, they made time to go for a ski with me under the brilliant light of a full moon. We struck out into the cold night and onto the Teton stair-stepper, a 1,600 foot bootpack to the top of Mount Glory.
Climbing the frozen staircase my mind began to drift with each step. The turning of a new year had painted the evening with nostalgia, which isn’t usually my style. I relented, and somehow on this frozen night I got it in my head that I would ditch social media. 2017 was the year that revealed just where our data was going. It revealed that the tech companies orchestrating our lives do not exist simply so we can share memes amongst ourselves. They intend to make money, and they do—by selling our metadata. After some ten-odd years “Don’t be evil” was removed from Google’s code of conduct in May. I wanted to share my work, experiences, and thoughts among friends without signing a license agreement. So now, one year later, here this is. Spoiler alert: I didn’t quite social media. Further, the irony is not lost on me that I am currently sharing more than before; this is an experiment after all.
In 2017 I graduated from college (part 1). This lead to some introspection, and the realization that I would sooner or later forget lots of stuff I had done. This sucks, and is probably more indicative of my overall mental state, then some junk philosophy on time. In any case, I bought a camera, and now I take photos. Strictly for historical record keeping and data collection, I assure you. Don’t get any ideas.
I now have some time to invest in creative outputs. If you are ever so lucky as to find yourself in a job that you enjoy, in a place that you like, you might find that time begins to move very quickly. I had yet to do anything productive with my newly freed up weekends. With the exception of a failed woodworking project and lots of time outdoors, I didn’t have much to show. This site isn’t the best idea for a hobby, but maybe it will be worth it. Perhaps character building. Any creative person knows the terror of building a thing and hoping it can stand on its own feet. This site is that thing—at least it was during it’s inception on a hill in Wyoming. This is a new exposure, far from the jagged peaks and weathered rock walls. One thing you won’t find here is a self-congratulatory travel diary. This blog will be out of key and occasionally in-time, and thats okay.
Back on Wyoming’s west coast I wiggled my toes in my boots and took another step, guided by faint wisps of the party jams playlist. The music emanated from Nick’s bluetooth speaker somewhere above me in the dark. I noticed a headlamp moving quickly towards us, tracing out the familiar turns of a skier in the darkness. As the figure moved closer I spotted a huge grin and gloved hand sporting an uncorked bottle of champagne. He came to a stop in front of us and held out the half-empty vessel. A new years toast. We cheered and took pulls one at a time, exchanging hi-fives. Not a bad way to welcome in the new year.