Heceta Head Lighthouse flashes from the rocky wave-washed coast near Florence, Oregon
National Geographic | January 1969
greentogreyagain asked: Your dad is Peter Jenkins?
Yes he is, and a wonderful dad at that.
— DH Lawrence (via lovelessramblings)
I want to be a foul mouthed
warm hearted old man.
to always feel love-sick
when I see jagged mountains and straining
oak trees reaching for each other
over a rocky creek.
The tunnel they make is a childhood story,
an invitation to get my
shoes soaking wet.
I want to collect old maps
where the center of the continent
says ‘unknown’ or ‘unexplored’
or the shape of its peninsulas are
bulbous and wrong,
I want to find these places
and tell stories like a
wardrobe gateway and
smoke cigarrettes and
laugh like sand paper.
My parents in 1979. My inspiration.
Dan Eldon and his work.
His short life and work and vision and ideas are incredible.
Peter Beard is such inspiration.
Montaña Mágica Lodge
Deep in southern Chile lies the Montaña Mágica Lodge (Magic Mountain Lodge). An extraordinary hotel hidden in the center of a 300,000 acre private nature reserve. The small, 13 room hotel is built in the shape of a volcano that spews water instead of lava. The exterior is covered in rainforest moss and vines and its entrance is only accessible via a suspended, swinging rope bridge. The outdoor hot tubs are carved from the trunks of giant trees. The lodge is located in Los Rios which is within the stunning Huilo-Huilo Unesco biosphere reserve, 242 square miles of lush nature, filled with wildlife.
O.o My new goal in life: go to here
On the list
— From Nick Miller’s novel Isn’t It Pretty To Think So? (via calebostgaard)
If you need conversation material at parties, I suggest planning a seven thousand mile bike ride. It gives you the ability to talk to anybody. It’s a story that spreads on its own. People will just walk right up to you and ask, “Is it true? Holy shit.”
I just turned 30, and I’ve decided to use this year to radically shape the rest of my life. I am about to leave my job and ride a bicycle for seventeen months, from Oregon to Patagonia. The need to do it (and it really felt like a need) hit me about three years ago when I read a quote from famed naturalist John Muir.
“I am losing precious days. I am degenerating into a machine for making money. I am learning nothing in this trivial world of men. I must break away and get out into the mountains to learn the news.”