Most of my last year has looked like this. Crops and cliffs and yellow dashes. And when the sun gets low, looking for the hidden thicket where a vagabond can hide. #somewherenorthofmexicocity @phillipcrosby #oregontopatagonia
Hunter S. Thompson, writing in Big Sur in 1961. I day dream about these moments. #oregontopatagonia
My reverence for the dead is equalled by my morbid curiosity. We went looking for Evita's grave, entering a massive cemetery called Recoleta. It is a smashed together maze of ornate mausoleums, with 4691 coffin vaults in all. You can't help but get lost in the labyrinth of gothic death. I would say half of the mausoleums are abandoned or derelict and you can push the old doors open, hover at the fallen crucifix and long dead flowers, and peer into the lost and forgotten coffin rooms beneath each one. Dark tunnels leading to decomposing families. I am certain to enter is illegal. But my curiosity has more power than my propriety. #oregontopatagonia #recoleta #buenosaires
"I struggled in the beginning. I said I was going to write the truth, so help me God. And I thought I was. I found I couldn't. Nobody can write the absolute truth." - Henry Miller.
I am now in Buenos Aires, and I won't leave until the first of October. I am waiting for Spring to arrive so I can bike south from Mendoza into the cold mountains of Patagonia. So I left my bike in wine country and came over here to spend some weeks. If you haven't noticed I'm not religious about the biking, I'm religious about the learning. I want the trip to teach me more than my expectations and rules ever could have. So I go where it leads. Sometimes that's in the bed of a truck or a bus. Sometimes it's biking even in the dark to make it to the next blip of civilization. And this month: it's coming to this massive city to be swallowed by its bravado. It makes me want to write, itches my fingers and dreamy future. Henry Miller does that to me too.
#buenosaires #oregontopatagonia #argentina (at La Poes'ia)
Food in Argentina got me like..
Orchards as far as any road goes in any direction. Orchards and vineyards and gauchos on horseback. All pushed up against the Andes, with the plains extending a thousand miles the other way like an ocean. #argentina (at Bodegas Salentein)
I don't have much hair, but about once a month my unruly whispies start to make me look like a recently-fired adjunct professor. So in each country I seek out a local barber off the main roads. Today I found this old man. He told me he's been cutting hair for fifty-five years and he clicked the scissors quickly and much more than necessary, like an instrument, as if cutting hair was a form of salsa dancing. He never stopped talking, and wasn't concerned if I could understand him. I got one bit about him and his best friend living on horseback in the Andes in the glory days. #oregontopatagonia (at Plaza Tunuyan.)
Exactly one year ago today: I left on the biggest adventure of my life. Looking back at pictures I can't believe the miles gone by, all that I've collected. Like drops in a bucket, you cannot watch it fill, but look away and be busy with living and soon the bucket is overflowing.
#oregontopatagonia #oneyearlater (I miss you my travel companions)
This moment. I'm a little tipsy on wine as I write this so hang with me. The world's oldest man, bent over like a crane's neck, walked in to this restaurant just now. This place is generations old with dirt floors and incredible Chilean steaks and wine. The man hobbled in and was greeted by our waitress. She guided him with her hand gently on his back to his spot, where he sits everyday. She cared for him so tenderly, a slow paced care that I rarely see at home. And she sat with him as he ate, talking about God-knows-what, and made him very happy. His laugh was weak but full of belonging. She was happy too. #oregontopatagonia #chile (at La Ruca Restaurante)
The continental divide, the top of the Andes. One snow flake melts to the Atlantic. The other melts to the Pacific. Separated as they fell by only a foot and ending their lives a thousand miles apart. #oregontopatagonia #andes
I am going to buy this house. They used the local stone to build the house in descending terraces down the rocky cliff. They've got a jacuzzi and five gardens. The locals told me it's 1/5 the price of California. See ya. #oregontopatagonia #vi~nadelmar #chile (at Playa Re~naca; Vi~na Del Mar)
Ever wished you could've seen Malibu or Carmel fifty years ago? It's called Zapallar, Chile, and the seafood is incredible. #oregontopatagonia #zapallar #chile (at Playa Zapallar)
If you live too high in the fog of Valparaiso, and you can't see the ocean view... improvise. #oregontopatagonia #valparaiso #chile (at Reca~na)
Exploring Santiago with my dad. How good to be born of and around others who enjoy discovery. We both have total ease at finding almost anything and any place fascinating. And he is an excellent hit man when you need one. #oregontopatagonia #seeingtheworldwithMikeEhrmantraut #breakingbadinChil'e @peterjenkins_explores (at Santiago De Chile)
A 6.6 earthquake just hit us. We were driving down the coast in Valparaiso, exploring how gorgeous it is here in Chile, and our little car felt like the back wheel had popped off or was flat, it also felt like hitting ice, that moment where your stomach gasps like a ghost passed through you. I have always wondered what an earthquake felt like from a car. Thank you Chile, now I know. Don't worry, the news is saying no one was hurt.
They call this place the San Francisco of South America. It really is. #oregontopatagonia #valparaiso #chile (at Vi~na del Mar)
The truth is, I feel understood by stray dogs. They find me and nuzzle their scrappy heads against my hip until I crouch down. And once down; I sit there and they tell me I am one of them.
But they know I have human powers... So they tell me to buy meat and snacks in the human stores. And I always do. I don't know if I am being conned, or if I really am one of them in disguise. #oregontopatagonia (at Vi~na del Mar)
My dad and his lady Kelley are visiting me for two weeks. He's never been to South America and his passport had been expired since 1986. But he is a serious adventurer and is completely in his element. Kelley has lived in the Mississippi Delta her whole life and these mountains have her breathless.
It's the middle of winter so I'm parking my bike and waiting for spring (October) and driving around Argentina and Chile with these two, the parts I won't get to see on my bike. I'm going to spend the month of September in Buenos Aires, as a city slicker. I want to consume all this culture, gorge like Thanksgiving dinner on memories and then rest in my gluttony-coma when it's done, distilling the book I have to come. #timewithdad #oregontopatagonia @peterjenkins_explores (at Parque Aconcagua)
I've heard that our identity is the average of the five people we spend the most time with. It feels true and probably is. Some decisions or realizations we make when we're young and we can't quite trace out why, but they change our whole lives.
For me, one of these things was in 10th grade. I decided to be friends with people I looked up to, or felt made me better by being around them. This is an unusual choice for a teenage boy, because the only metric of social success at 15 is how sarcastic you can be. But I had been burned and didn't want that anymore. I wanted to be around good people who were smart and kind and made me feel that way too.
That subtle decision changed my life. I have for the past 16 years sought out people I respect, friends that inspire me and make beautiful things, write beautiful words, make people feel beautiful.
I have found that many people don't respect their friends. They laugh with and at them and they share experiences...but not their souls.
Choosing kindred souls as my community has made me who I am.
Almost everything I own was either given to me or made by a friend. Not so long ago we were starry-eyed kids with dreams of starting our own thing, doing our own thing. Now I'm 31 and my friends make the things I love. That is the adulthood I only dreamed about. It's here. And I carry it with me in South America.
#oregontopatagonia #friendship #thethingsicarry (at Posada El Encuentro)
My name is Jedidiah Jenkins, and I am on a bike trip from Florence, Oregon to Patagonia. I'll be gone from August 2013 - December 2014. Back in the 70's, my parents walked across America in search of themselves and the country they called home. My friend Phillip Crosby and I are doing the same, but all the way down to the bottom of the earth.