The trip deviated from the plan, but was still a success, thanks to me keeping my expectations open. It’s hard not to enjoy oneself in the natural world.

Originally, I’d planned to park somewhere in the Redwoods and hike up to a “primitive campsite” with my pack. The first deviation came when I discovered that I’d be charged $15 p/ night just to park – the same as what was charged to camp in a normal camp site. On top of that, there was self-registration available for normal camping, but not for the primitive camp (it was off-season, so the visitor’s center was closed). So, I decided to camp at the normal site.

I’d also agreed to give Wade, my friend at the University of Oregon, a ride back to Seattle and, since we’d be driving up the coast, his roommate, Jordon, a ride to Astoria, which meant I’d have to be back in Eugene on Thursday.

Saturday Left home in the morning. I took i-5 down to Eugene, arriving early in the evening. After meeting up with Wade and some of his friends at the University of Oregon, we went to explore Hendricks Park. Dinner at the Laughing Planet Cafe and dessert at Sweet Life. I spent the night on a spare bed in the dorms.

Sunday Left Eugene early in the morning. I took OR-126 out to the coast, where I got on 101 and headed south. I entertained myself throughout the drive by stopping at lots of parks and scenic pull-offs. (I don’t know why Bellingham is so renowned for biker gangs – southern Oregon certainly has more.) I ended up reaching the California border as the sun was going down and decided to spend the night in a hotel in Crescent City, CA.

Monday Left Crescent City in the morning and drove about 20 miles south to Prairie Creek State Park. After discovering that I’d be spending my time in the Redwoods in a normal campsite, I decided to check out the site at the beach to see if I liked it better. The drive there started out simple enough – another 5 minutes on 101. Then I reached the turn-off to the site and discovered a rather large puddle in my way – deep enough that the water level was about halfway up my tires. Shortly after that, the pavement ended and the road turned into a dirt trail completely covered with pot-holes. It wasn’t very fun to try to navigate, but I made it through. After finally reaching the beach, the road deteriorated even more (I didn’t think it was possible). On top of the pot-holes doubling in size, there was a huge cliff to my right, which worried the Geologist inside of me. A few more minutes on that road and I reached the campsite, but decided that with the road, the cliff, and the wind, I preferred the camp site at the visitor’s center. So I turned right around, navigated the horrible road, drove through the puddle, and went back to the first site. After paying and setting up camp, I wandered around the smaller trails near the camp for a little bit before the sun started going down. After that, I ate dinner with the Elk (who are so “dangerous” that they’ll come right into your campsite to graze without paying you any mind), read a little in my book, and went to bed with the Sun. Not a bad Equinox.

Tuesday Woke up with the sun. After having breakfast with the Quail, I threw some snacks and toilet paper in my camelbak and headed off for a day of exploration. I walked all around the park, exploring misty Forest. At one point I was stalked by what looked to be a Mountain Lion, but I never saw any bears – perhaps they were still hibernating. I returned to the camp as the sun was going down, and had dinner. It was extremely painful to walk around camp that night, but I didn’t end up with any blisters. Went to bed with the Sun.

Wednesday Woke up with the sun. Since I had to be back in Eugene on Thursday, I decided I’d make half of the journey today. After wandering around the shorter trails that I’d explored Monday, I packed up the camp and got back on 101. I reached the site that I intended to stay at in the afternoon (a little south of Reedsport, OR). It didn’t seem worth it to me to set up my tent for just one night, so I decided that I’d sleep in the car that night. After paying the camp site fee, I ventured off to explore the sand dunes. Since I had no map of the area, all the dunes looked rather similar, and the wind was beginning to erase my tracks, I decided to cut that adventure short, but not without having a little fun. After arriving back at the camp, I snacked a bit and read my book. At one point, some lady came driving up to the site (I assume she must have been the camp host, a concept which I was only introduced to when I arrived at Prairie Creek). She rolled down her window and asked if I needed help. I said no. (I only ever realize this after the fact, but, for some reason, people always ask me if I need help when they’re confused. I don’t know why they can’t just say what they mean – they’re obviously the ones that need help. I always take the question literally and reply no.) After that she asked if I knew that I was in a campsite – that seemed rather insulting, but, since this was my first contact with civilization in a few days, I assumed that in her eyes I might somehow seem strange and just needed to adjust back to their ways. After a little more dancing around the subject, I realized what she wanted to know if I had paid or not. Why she couldn’t just have asked that in the first place, I don’t know. I pointed to the receipt that was pinned to the post at the entrance to the site, literally right in front of her. She drove off, and I went back to reading. As the sun went down, I got into my car and went to sleep, but woke up often and wasn’t very comfortable – sleeping in the car apparently isn’t for me.

Thursday Woke up with the sun and drove back to Eugene. Wade had a final at 3pm, so we decided to leave Friday morning. We wandered around campus a bit, only to come back to the dorm and find that I’d gotten a $20 ticket for parking in a permitted lot without a permit. I paid that, then drove over to his friend’s house to avoid getting another ticket. After a couple hours hanging out there, two of the people wanted to go to a show in Portland, but I was blocking them in. So I went out to move my car, and discovered that I’d locked the keys in the ignition – something I’ve never done before. (I think my car was getting back at me for sleeping in it.) The locksmith was quick and only cost $35, so it wasn’t too bad. We hung out in the dorms that night, but I was still on Forest time, so I had to go to bed soon after the sun went down. Spent the night on a couch at one of Wade’s friend’s house.

Friday Woke up a bit after the sun. I drove back to the dorms to get Wade and Jordon up. After they packed, we drove out to the coast and got back on 101 – this time going North to Astoria, OR. We made good time, stopping only at the Tillamook Cheese Factory because Jordon said it was a law that if you drove through Tillamook, you had to stop (and I wanted ice cream). A few miles south of Astoria, we pulled off at a turn around and jumped the barrier. Jordon led us through the bush, out to a cliff he knew about with a view. We arrived in Astoria just as the sun went down. Jordon’s parents took us out to dinner, and then we hung out at a friend’s house.

Saturday We explored Astoria a bit more, then Wade and I got back on the road again. We headed north on 101 for a while, headed East to Olympia, then got back on i-5 and went home, arriving at about 7pm.

Photos here.

Photos and video from the trip are in the gallery. Few of them turned out decently – it was the first time using my new camera.

I just took my first shower all week.

For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly.

• Don Juan Matus

I’m packed and ready to take off.

To be a little more specific, I’ll be around the southern part of Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, a part of the forest that’s been described to me as “Tolkienesque”.

An even more radical set of questions arises from the visions of some Western and Northern ayahuasqueros, particularly those steeped in evolutionary and ecological biology. Why do so many plants carry psychoactive tryptamines and other chemicals that are capable of producing profound consciousness-transforming perceptions in human beings, opening them up to the deepest mysteries of life and death? On one level this confirms the basic unity of all life on Earth, the oneness of the molecular genetic code. But the usual Darwinian assumption is that nothing evolves by chance -- natural selection works to favor those structures and capabilities that are adaptive in some way. So how is it adaptive for plants to produce alkaloids that seemingly serve no other particular function, and yet provide profound healing or insight in the human?

• Ralph Metzner, Sacred Vine of Spirits: Ayahuasca pg. 259

National Communication Systems list of “Hacking Sites”

(When it comes to hacking sites on the web, it really depends on your perspective as to who's a good guy and who's not. Just because someone has exploits on their site, it doesn't mean they're evil, but they're probably not saints either. Anyway, some hats are blacker than others; these are mostly various shades of gray and will hopefully give you a feel for what's going on in the hacking underground. Some may contain offensive content. Proceed at your own risk!) * 2600 * Antioffline * attrition.org * Cult of the Dead Cow (cDc) * CyberArmy * Damage Inc. * DEF CON * Deleacroix AOD * Ghettohackers * Hacker Emergency Response Team (HERT) * Hack in the Box * Hackology * Hack Shock * Happy Hack * Higher Learning * Hackers Without Attitude (HWA) * Insecure.Org * Lady Sharrows Playground * Megasecurity.org * Mixter Security (Team Void) * Nomad Mobile Research Centre * Rain.Forest.Puppy * Sudden Discharge * TESO * w00w00 Security Development

Change how you see and you change how you feel. Change how you feel and you change your experience of the world.

One of the most exciting aspects of Hawkeen Training is NightWalking, a technique used to bring about heightened states of consciousness through vision.

Research into the technique began with trying to understand what it was that caused athletes to experience “flow” or “peak experience”, the ability to “see the whole court.”

John Brodie, who was quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers some 25 years ago, has talked enthusiastically and knowledgeably about flow, perhaps encouraged by his friend, Michael Murphy, founder of Esalen Institute. He once recalled how in the midst of a game his level of play would suddenly jump to a higher plane. Though huge lineman crashed in on him, he was in perfect control as he calmly stepped back, set up, and threw. Brodie described how the football appeared to travel on a "wire of will" that connected him to his receiver, usually the peerless Gene Washington. He claimed that he had seen defensive backs cut in front of Washington to intercept the ball, but it had hopped over their fingertips and into the pass catcher's hands. It seemed inevitable that the play be completed.

It was soon discovered that the same technique was used in swordsmanship.

In The Book of Five Rings, Miyamoto Musashi, the legendary swordsman of 16th century Japan, implies that he fought his greatest duels with his eyes crossed, and goes into considerable detail about developing and using this strange ability. He writes somewhat mysteriously about a state he entered while so engaged. He also refers to the two types of sight which he calls Ken and Kan. Ken registers the movements of surface phenomena; it's the observation of superficial appearance. Kan is the examination of the essence of things, seeing through or into. For Musashi, Ken is seeing with the eyes, Kan is seeing with the mind, a difference paralleling that between style and substance. He gives instructions for developing Kan sight: "It is important to observe both sides without moving the eyes. It is no good trying to learn this kind of thing in great haste. Always be watchful in this manner and under no circumstances alter your point of concentration."

Moreover, it is utilized by Tibetan Lung-gom-pas (spiritual walkers).

The walker must neither speak, nor look from side to side. He must keep his eyes fixed on a single distant object and never allow his attention to be attracted by anything else. When the trance has been reached, though normal consciousness is for the greater part suppressed, it remains sufficiently alive to keep the man aware of the obstacles in his way, and mindful of his direction and goal. Any clear night is deemed good for the training of beginners, but strong starlight is especially favorable. One is often advised to keep the eyes fixed on a particular star. This appears connected with hypnotic effects, and we have been told that among novices who train themselves in that way, some stop walking when "their" star sinks below the skyline or rises above their head. Others, on the contrary, do not notice its disappearance because by the time that the star has passed out of sight, they have formed a subjective image of it which remains fixed before them. Some initiates in the secret lore also assert that, as a result of long years of practice, after he has travelled over a certain distance, the feet of the lung-gom-pa no longer touch the ground, and that he glides on the air with an extreme celerity.

Not to be outdone, it is also utilized by Apache stalkers (they called it Owl Vision).

NightWalking is based upon these basic aspects of vision:

- Cones have a one-to-one correlation with nerve fibers while many rods may connect a single nerve fiber. - Cones are sensitive to color while rods primarily register the intensity of light. - Rods are much more sensitive to light than cones. - Rods are much more sensitive to the detection of movement than cones. - The cones and rods are parts of separate neurological systems and are processed separately. In fact, there is much speculation on just where information from these two systems intersects in the brain.

The idea is, you have two separate vision systems: central (cones) and peripheral (rods). By focusing your eyes on a fixed point in front of you and not moving them, you can, in effect, shut down your central vision system. Though it may seem that by doing this you’re actually hindering your senses, it’s proposed that by “seeing with your mind”, you are able to see more, yet with fewer distractions. Doing this while walking, one is able to see and manuever around all obstacles – without even thinking about it. In the dark, your cones are rarely used at all. Thus, walking at night extends the separation between rods and cones. NightWalking.

Not only were we learning to travel freely in the dark; it was becoming apparent that this capability connected us more directly to a nonconscious part of our brains that seems devoted to our safety and general security. Far from being a storehouse of fear, we found the nonconscious--or at least the aspect of it that is accessed through the state of peripheral awareness--to be a trustworthy protector that not only leads us around rocks, away from cliffs and back to the truck, but perhaps also serves as a guide to some natural state, to some most basic part of ourselves. In the peripheral state we felt comfortable, alert, relaxed, open, happy and very alive. Feelings of fear, anger, worry, doubt, and lust seem antithetical to the state, as if the neural wiring, whatever it is, for these such strong emotions, is bypassed. Benign accurately describes the feeling of NightWalking.

By switching to peripheral vision, all other senses switch to peripheral as well, bringing about a state of peripheral awareness. As described by Tony Hiss:

We can experience any place because we've all received, as part of the structure of our attention, a mechanism that drinks in whatever it can from our surroundings. This underlying awareness--we call it simultaneous perception--seems to operate continuously, at least during waking hours, even when our concentration seems altogether engrossed in something else entirely. While normal waking consciousness works to simplify perception, allowing us to act quickly and flexibly by helping us remain seemingly oblivious to almost everything except the task in front of us, simultaneous perception is more like an extra, or a sixth, sense: it broadens and diffuses the beam of attention evenhandedly across all the senses so we can take in whatever is around us--which means sensations of touch and balance, for instance, in addition to all sights, sounds, and smells. Anytime we make conscious use of simultaneous perception, we can add on to our thinking. "One sees both close up and for miles, with the focus equal everywhere," as art critic Robert Hughes has said of landscape drawings by nineteenth-century German Romantic painters. With the help of this extra sense, the familiar hard-and-fast boundary between ourselves and our surroundings seems softened, expanding our sense of the space occupied by "here" and the time taken up by "now," and uncovering normally ignored patterns of relationships that make us part of larger groups and events. It's simultaneous perception that allows any of us a direct sense of continuing membership in our communities, and our regions, and the fellowship of all living creatures . . . .

“The whole secret to mastering peripheral awareness is keeping one’s visual attention independent from focused vision.”

NightWalking successfully brings one from water to air, bringing about a “pronounced calm”.

Walking while relying on peripheral vision requires that the conscious mind trust the nonconscious, and this inter-mind trust might be the essence of relaxation itself.

Perhaps unbeknownst to us, this is a state we all enter at some point. I often find myself “zoning out” in order to concentrate. Though my vision is no longer focused, I feel my sense elevated in this non-ordinary state of reality.