Being a Bixby

Growing up a Bixby never really meant much to me. At a younger age I felt like an outsider being adopted into the  Bixby family by my father. Yes I say father despite the lack of a biological connection because as I've aged I've also educated myself. I can honestly say that NO other man could have done for me what he has. It's not just what he has done for me but who he has been for my family and my mother. She could not have found a better man to stand beside her. It takes one look around at a Bixby reunion to know that I'm the odd one of the bunch. I've lived my life to different beat. Despite all of our differences though I rarely feel like an outsider.
Perhaps I say this now because I see the similarities between my father and I. I also now realize the similarities he and Grandaden share. I see it is a trait or lesson learned or passed down from one to the other, so subtly it could almost be called osmosis. A lesson about trust, respect,  compassion, empathy, humility, and love. About being a family despite differences and disputes.
While I was in high school and after more then 50 years of marriage  Gramma woke Grandaden one night to tell him that she loved him, their family and their life together and then passed in his arms as he waited. She was an amazing women and I wish only that we could have had much more time with her. She taught me the most important key to happiness;  One day she pulled me aside while we were making her super special chocolate chip walnut cookies. Even back then it was noticeable that I was different from the rest of the Bixbys. She told me she didn't care what I did with my life as long as I did the best I could at everything I would do. Grandaden never remarried. Instead when Carl Bixby passed during the winter I spent in Chile he had survived Edith Kenyon by living for more than decade after her passing.
Of all the great lessons Gramma and Grandaden taught me, the greatest was the enormous power that a strong family has to flourish, grow, and support eachother.

Being A Bixby

She rode with the Guachos,
And inspired a passion for persistant perfection.
He dreamed of sailing seas,
And taught dedication to daily duties.
Together their garden bloomed with love,
And cultivated a tree stronder then any storm,
Heartier then any festive feast
That they themselves prepared,
And more bountiful then the falls dire harvest.
For generations that follow
I know I'll swallow
And savor like a fine wine
The love and acceptance of a family divine.
Together afain her, his whole.
Find the tide that takes you back to her ride.
It's meant the world that we yet to unfold.

Thank you Gramma and Grandaden. I'm trying.

adam

The Aids Shack and more

My time in Chile and Argentina was one of the most amazing experiences in my life to date. I could write pages and pages about it. In fact I already have in my traveling journal. Reading back over things my writing journal seems to say things much clearer. 

To Chile, the greatest adventure I've had so far.

Aids Shack

Just a run down red shack

No ice box but a shower and a stove. 

Two simple rooms full of history,

Friendships new and old.

Sideboards pealing, tin roof flapping

On a foundation held aloft by stone and stump.

Tucked in back. Hidden from view

Amongst  Poplars and Willows

That serve as a perch for my nest with a leafy window

To a fantastic dream that resides here

In this dilapidated run down shack on a lake.

Coming home to the Aids shack after a successful mission.

                                                                                                                    

I'm as confused about what I am doing

As to the words, the language coming from 

Your sweet soft lips. That I enjoyed by

the lake this cool afternoon as we

Spoke with our eyes and I tried to 

Roll my Rrrr's and still resorted to a reference.

                                                                                                                      

Second to last night and the rain rolls in.

Blanketing my beach with millions of moist kisses.

My hammock rocks and sways as the rain fly beats,

To the symphonies baritone wind section.

Waves crashing harder and harder. And I wait.

It's early and not quite time to rise up emerging from this chrysalis.

It's warm and cozy. 

And I don't feel ready to fly away so soon.

                                                                                                                        

Because She's Too Good For Words

I really enjoy writing. Sometimes I have a really hard time articulating clearly what I want with my speech but but I can sit down with a pen and my little yellow pad and say exactly what I want. Nobody can take it away from me. I have a hard time writing when I'm happy and things are going well in my life. A year and a half ago I started going through a very trying time in my life and was filling up a notebook every few months and that wasn't including the letters and journaling I was doing also. Some stuff I wrote I think is pretty good and then there was plenty of pretty bad or more appropriately pointless stuff. I have written very little in the last year comparatively.
It took until just recently for some very important things to turn around for me but just over a year ago I met the most amazing person I've ever known. Someone who makes me laugh during the entire adventure, someone who has stood by me through the hardest time I've had, someone that I never thought I'd find in my wandering life. Despite the hardships of late she has always been there for me making me feel stronger and more confident then ever with all her many ways. With this great love that I've been shown I've gotten to know happiness again and humbleness.
I may try for the rest of my life but my words will never be able to describe the wonderful feeling of emotion that this beautiful, beautiful women has given me.





In the distance sipping sweet sake
She sits savoring slippery sushi.
Well.   She sat at one time,
And Yes.   I guess she will sit again someday.

But now I dwell on the dimming Green light
Off in the distance, in the haze
As she flickers and fades as if an
Oil lamp low on fuel in a storm that hasn't fully formed.

Like Labor Day on the lake. Lying awake rambling,
Her cunning curves carving while my loose legs listed.
Or, like loose linen flowing, golden silk blowing, snapping memories
Of royalty, miles of meandering gardens, and topping it off with shiraz.

A 1,000,000 miles I'd go just to feel her smiles.
Holding a hand. Helping through a horrendous highlight.
Embracing my life, my heart with the warmth of a wool wrap
On a winters eve rolled up with her. Waiting out the storm.

Sarcasm Font

The first three stanzas were done over a year ago and yet I always felt like something was not quite right about it. It was as if something was missing or just not completed. Last night I realized why.

Tiger Lilies and Black-Eyed Susans
Simple opposites of a common ground
Faithful service that a common man's
attempt at a clean pilgrimage will abound.

Unkempt and at times in a sense of disarray
A sprout, a bud, a bloom of natures true color
May lead to a chat, a foray, maybe even a soiree.
Perhaps. Even enough to phone for a date with'er.

A long distance road trip back home.
Stopping along the way to tease the soul.
And temp the heart, to inspire poem.
She maybe one to help climb out this hole.

Or will I be teased and loose my voice?
And have my words humbly hidden from me.
Playing for a while.  Enough to put us both at ease.
When we wake will it have been a dream?.

Playing Though:

Playing Though

Two nights prior I resisted.

The following night though . . .

                                             I took what I wanted.

I gambled on your bid.

You all chic,

Your hair up, handbag held to shield the rain. As. . .

You prance provocatively

White polk-a-dots on brown

Ruffles, lapping teasingly at your silhouette.

Foreshadowing?

You court my gaze to grasp (with later my kiss

Lingering in your garden) and.

I’ll admit.

I passed calf and thigh to hills and mountains high.

With apprehension. We drive on winding our way.

Down a path we both now will satisfy.

As the first DJ begins to spin a mix

Of melodies embracing, soft wet lips,

Locked like the grasp of my arm around your waist.

Brief interruptions.

Red roadsides, confessions, revelations.

Suggesting . . .

The early morning jockey rides a stream

Of smooth piano chords. Playing your body as an instrument.

Cautious curiosity turns lust that been lost

To an intoxicating reality.

Forested torso rubs electric fuzz

Over your own graceful landscape.

Your bosom blossoming with your backs gentle arch.

Hands; Hair; Hips; His/Hers entwined.

The smell of passion, the taste of salt.

As waves crash to shore, as I, we

Hold each other tightly through this tidal surge.

Others fog windows.

We blanketed this mountain with our wanton haze.

It’s getting early. Or is it late?

Breakfast before bed?

Lets still savor a nibble every once in a while.

I watch them change brown to green and the rain

Is still falling on the leaves.

Someone crying for what has been

And what cannot/will not be.

Playing with words helps to ponder the moment:

Living the Life I Love

Really.

When you least expect it.

Life throws you a loop.

From one stimulation,

Like a Big Boy with the brobrahs.

To Vangoh’s and Degas’.

Light my Fire

Talk some shit.

Live the life you love.

Long live MJ.

Flying with Ravens

Fall leaves falling from

Bluebird skies.

Enjoying Indian summers

With drunken elders.

Embracing friends borne from

Common ground and falling water.

Hark the raven,

Here we become men.

Kayaking And Risk Assessment

A few weeks back someone asked on one of the kayaking message boards, what is your relationship with risk and why do you paddle? I thought it was a great question as well as topic of discussion. I always enjoy kayaking but I never really considered why I do it, risk versus reward. I would love it if people wanted to join in and comment a little bit about why they paddle.

Or do you walk?

Do you drop in?

Here is my response to the question:

I’m a very young 32-year-old class V-V+ kayaker who grew up and learned to paddle in New England and has since moved to the Asheville, NC/Green River area. I started my paddling career in a canoe with my mother doing class II-III overnighters with my father, brother, and our family friends. Once puberty hit I quickly moved on by myself into a kayak. Learning to kayak in southern New England I started off in a playboat going to rodeos driving to the LaChine’s, the Ottawa, and the Black. As I progressed and worked every river in the area I knew the natural progression for me was to find steeper rivers or rivers with more water. Traveling south to rivers like the Gauley, Chattooga, and Green I realized I was hooked not only on kayaking but how far and how many places I could take myself  kayaking as well. I have since made the Asheville area my home and frequent the Green River Narrows when I’m not scouting and making my way down some of the other amazing gorges this world has for me explore. In my paddling career I have been the guide, the teacher, the teammate, and still always the student.

I kayak for peace of mind. That entails multiple elements for me. I kayak for pure enjoyment and interaction with nature. I’m not a kid anymore and I can’t spend my days running around in the woods, playing in the creeks, and climbing over any attainable horizon. Kayaking has taken me to some of the most mesmerizing places the kind of places that you can never fully describe to others. I also kayak for exorcise. I enjoy a physical workout and trying to use my body to it’s fullest potential. Although I can enjoy a beer after the river I’m not the one to hang out at the take out or put in for very long. I like to go to the river and get my workout in then head home or to work. A lot of times paddling is getting squeezed into the schedule amongst many other things. I have been kayaking for almost 15 years and have gotten about 150-175 days a year over the last 10 years, partly due to living in the southeast for most of that time. This time has given me a pretty solid progression into the physical aspects, the knowledge of the sport, and the dangers it poses. This peace of mind is formed from a combination of the mental stimulation I get piecing together a rapid through the knowledge that I’ve gained, the physical exercise of having to make the moves on the river as well as the expedition as a whole, and my quite time with nature to just enjoy the world we were given and not the one we made.

I am a paddler and can find enjoyment in most any kind of situation. Teaching beginners who are eager and excited to learn can be just as much fun as surfing a big wave on the Ottawa or running a waterfall deep in some remote gorge halfway across the world from where you call home. They all share risk and fun as aspects but they are experienced in different ways. Teaching someone to kayak I feel risk in that despite me most likely being fine I am responsible for who I am teaching and thus I feel a responsibility for controlling the situation as much as possible and making sure not only that the student is physically and mentally fine but that they are having fun as well. I find full enjoyment in sharing my knowledge with anyone who wants to learn. Watching when the roll finally comes to a kid and seeing it in their eyes is priceless. On the other hand being on a class V/V+ creek has its different forms of risk and fun. Here I access risk more on a personal level. If I’m on a creek of this caliber then I’m there with a crew that I trust and know to be capable of making knowledgeable personal decisions on whether to paddle or walk. I am basing my own personal risk on whether I see my line or not. If I can see a line then I will assess what dangers I will have to deal with while trying to stay on my line. Then I ask myself, am I physically capable of making my line? Perhaps before questioning my physical ability I have to determine if I’m mentally ready to run the rapid.  There are always mitigating circumstances such as time, weather, health, group moral, and energy levels that will always effect the final decision to accept the risk and drop in or to walk around.

As I’ve aged I’ve learned that every aspect comes with it’s own form of risk. Walking across the street at the wrong time, finding that icy step on the stoop one day, being in the wrong store when it gets robbed are all risks that could have very severe and dyer consequences. Driving a car is the single most deadly thing almost all Americans will do at some point in their lives yet largely we take that for granted. I see kayaking as a controlled environment despite the chaotic nature of what is going on.  I consider my decisions to be based on years of experience with rivers of all kinds and how kayaks and people have reacted in situations similar. Watching someone else drop into that newly come across class V makes me feel the risk different then if I was the one to drop in and probe the line. Despite my relatively controlled view of the rapid I still acknowledge that things don’t always go the way one intends.

I acknowledge and respect the risk and dangers of the river but when It comes to running a rapid more often then not if I see a line and feel I can make that line I am going to go for it. I could compare it to skiing trees, one knows there are trees all around them yet the best skiers say they never look at the trees they look to the openings between them piecing together the puzzle of that glade. I find a draw in the challenge of running hard rapids and enjoy the feeling of being able to test myself and my theories. When I drop into a hard or dangerous rapid I am prepared to do battle if need be but it is always with a consciousness of everything that’s going on around me at that moment.

 I don’t need the risk to enjoy myself but find that I have to deal with a lot of risk on the rivers that are more mentally and physically demanding to me. As I’ve aged and experienced more on the river I have probably become more conservative. I have learned to listen to my body about when I really am capable of doing something. I’ve learned what the rivers can do when things do not go as planned. Most importantly I’ve realized that the river is not going anywhere and I can always come back. I’ve lost friends to the river as well as paddled over many a spot where others have lost their lives. I like to think that accidents always happen and no matter how much we prepare for them we still can’t stop all of them. In the whitewater situations I’ve put myself into I’m far more comfortable in some hidden class V+ gorge then trying to get home in rush hour traffic.

Risk is individual. I consider the risk I take on the rivers to be a very controlled risk. I’ve certainly been in the situation where it didn’t go the way I had planned, asked myself if that was going to be my last breath. I’ve made it through so far. Accidents do happen but looking at my own experiences and using my knowledge of myself and the rivers I’m on and I like to think that that is what it will take, an accident. Until then I will continue to pursue the many rivers of the world until I’m physically unable to.

Sometimes its just not worth it.

Ashevegas:

For the last few years I have been living in the Asheville, North Carolina area. For the first time in my life I have found a place that despite my travels, always feels like home. I'll be honest when i'm away I never want to come home. Asheville gives me a small city which I crave but with so much to do in the ways of hiking, kayaking, mountain biking, and camping just outside the city. As well it has given me one of the  closest groups of friends that i've ever had as well it has opened up so many amazing opportunities to me.
These two were inspire  by the wonderful little city I call home;


Ashevegas


Downtown is boring in the morning.
Nothing but delivery trucks double-parked.
Waiting on wait staff to be let in.
Weekday, no bustling breakfast cafes,
But a dozen coffee shops.
Mingling their aromas from around the equater.
Waiting for the streets to perk up.
With the aura ofAurora Borealis
That is this city’s persona.



                                                                                      



Little kids in unitards and winter hats.
Slightly uptight pretentious men,
And women in their over starched suits
With pleated pants and shiny shoes.
Local hipsters in tattered jeans.
Nothing but personal flair everywhere.
Johnny dressed all prim and promper.
In his fresh pressed uniform and too rigid trooper hat.
Watching over the hospitality.
In their single colored (appearing to look) clean
Established outfits.
Who are waiting on
All of us.

Around the Tree and Back Again:

Around the tree and back again was inspired by a mix tape that I had made for a women who was very special to me at the time. We had just gone through a very turbulent summer neither of us able to admit to the other what we really wanted or felt. As the summer came to a close I was preparing to leave the country for a couple months and felt like I needed to say more to her. I made her a playlist and found myself listening to it quite often while on my travels. While away in the process of writing her a 32 page letter I still felt like I wasn't saying what I really wanted to. This is the culminated inspiration of Lucy and her playlist .

Around the Tree and Back Again

Here I am.

Take it or leave it. Because this is me.

As I must be myself. You must be yourself.

Because as it rains all night

The filth will be washed away.

She (you) may be weird and I may be wrong.

Your mind and intelligence have infected me.

Like the rain you look like.

And I would for you, do what I must do.

To try not to scare you.

As I’m just lookin’ for a love

That may end up just another women in red that got away.

Maybe she just needs to go where she belongs.

Somewhere to be free and find a lover.

As I try to build a house fit for a lady.

Where I can empty my past.

And we can listen to the rain applaud our silent love.

Before I can’t take it anymore and abandon society.

To find the silence of only coyotes howling,

Whoo yip whooo.

And she wanders to bloom out with the other wildflowers.

Yet as I struggle.

There’s something about her,

That keeps me going on in this wild world.

Of  ups and downs, Dancing under lavender moons.

Walkin’ after midnight, searching for the nightlife.

Before I ask her to lay with me.

Because I’m afraid of a never ending lonely hunt.

As patience isn’t my strong suit.

And I want to know. I can’t take it any longer.

I’ll play you the flute.

As we set each other free and float by Venus.

I’ll take a picture of that sexy lady blowing my mind.

Who’s become my beloved behind a green light.

But what I really need to know is:

When you’ll let me in?

If not. Just let me out.

Because when the music begins, I just want you.

And a dance. And then I’ll chant:

I’m not perfect and this is how it’s going to be.

Not fade away!

This is real. I’m warning you baby. Give me one last dance.

We’re better than the real thing.

For those of you who are curious this is the playlist:

• Here I am (live); Lyle Lovett
• Be Yourself; Audioslave
• And It Rained All Night; Thom Yorke
• Is She Weird; The Pixies
• I Might Be Wrong; Radiohead
• You Look Like Rain; Morphine
• I Would For You; Jane's Addiction
• Lookin' For A Love; Neil Young
• The Woman That Got Away; J.J. Cale
• Wildflowers; Tom Petty
• If I Were A Carpenter; Johnny Cash & June Carter Cash
• Empty; Ray LaMontagne
• Society; Eddie Vedder
• Coyotes; Don Edwards
• Wildflowers; Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, & Linda Ronstadt
• Something In The Way She Moves; James Taylor
• Wild World; Cat Stevens
• Kiko And The Lavender Moon; Los Lobos
• Walkin' After Midnight; Patsy Cline
• Would You Lay With Me; Johnny Cash
• The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter; Thievery Corporation w/David Byrne
• I Can't Wait For Your Love; Lyrics Born
• So Flute; St. Germain
• Sex-O-Matic Venus Freak; Macy Gray
• Let Me In, Let Me Out (remix); Lyrics Born
• Chant (bonus track); Xavier Rudd
• Not Fade Away; The Rolling Stones
• Even Better Than The Real Thing; U2

A couple from last summer that had me asking questions:

Waiting up

Why do I get all cleaned up?

Just to spend all night waiting up.

Not knowing if I’ll get to show up.

So what’s my hang up?

I just want to keep up.

And not let up.

I’ve got a long way to not give up.

Re-reading History

As I contemplate the history of what I’ve written,

It’s become perfectly clear.

I should really be queer.

But again I’ve found another,

And she has me smitten.

Scrabble Translation:

Scrabble Translation

Up late playing with words.

Randomly laying them down. Here and there,

This way and that. And maybe.

They can and will be something amazing.

Or something lost to a piece of clutter.

Tossed in the corner of the room.

And I still beat Candace.

Welcome to my world:

Welcome to my wonderful world of wonderings while wandering with water. I grew up in the woods of New England struggling to fit in with a constantly changing and growing society. As I grew older my frustrations continued to grow. With a government that seems to not care about the society that pays their salaries, corporate America doing anything for a buck from dropping insurance to those that need it most to genetically modifying our food and drug to an almost unrecognizable state, to a world that is destroying and defacing the environment that has helped to supply us with life I needed to find a constructive way to vent my frustrations as well to explore and share the wonders of this world with others. I have used climbing and kayaking to travel the world, experiencing other cultures and ways of life. Realizing that what is right for one may not be right for someone else. As I have always been an artistic person and have seen that art;  spoken, visually, and musically can have a profound affect on the person that opens themselves up to it.  I have plenty of questions and have found that writing helps me put my thoughts into perspective and allows me a way to share them.
Welcome again and feel free to comment or criticize.

All content is original content unless specified otherwise. I have a huge respect for the artists that have influenced and inspired me over the years and hope i can share that with you.