Before heading to Seattle, Terry paid me a visit yesterday for some yummy sex followed by Tartine’s morning buns and a southern Indian brunch at Dosa’s then a hilarious movie called “Eating Out” and some more yummy sex.
He recently told me a story about when he was a child. He had gradually pilfered more and more cash from his elder brother’s cookie jar, full of his savings, until Terry started to feel really guilty about it. He went to his sister for his advice and said, “There is something I really need to talk with you about.” She replied, “Is this about you being gay?” He said, “No, I stole some of my brother’s money and want your advice about what to do.” “Sit him down and explain what happened… it will turn out fine.” Then Terry went to his brother and said, “There is something I really need to talk with you about.” His brother replied, “Is this about you being gay?” “No, it’s not! Remember your cookie jar with the money in it?” “Yeah.” “Well, I hope this doesn’t make you mad, but I’ve been taking some of it from time to time and now it’s all gone.”
I ran into Matthew, who I had dated for around six months last year, while on my way to my weekly lesekreis, German reading group, meeting. His hair was short and purple. We caught up on some of the news. Although he’s not currently with the guy he had been dating, he said they would probably get together again, as they dated on and off since he and I stopped seeing each other. He asked about my spine injury, although he hadn’t contacted me at all before to check with me about it. He also asked if he could hug me and I said yes, so we hugged. Luckily, my past obsessive feelings of attraction for him seem to be firmly in check. We wished each other well and parted.
Although postponed by a couple of days to accommodate attendance at the Romp Naked event in Seattle on July 22, the “Two Spirit Day Out of Time” gathering took place from July 23-26 on Mount Rainier. Sierra, who works as a ranger at the Sunrise Camp on Mount Rainier, issued the call and dealt with logistics, and Franz prepared healthy organic food and Julie Andrews “Sound of Music” inspired art for the gathering. The pictures below come from the cameras of many of those who attended the gathering.
Kirby (pic above) took a bit of a leap by driving up with Sierra and Franz for the gathering while still on crutches! I hitched a ride from Mugwort (above), who also shared a campsite where we both pitched our tents. Thanks to my dad for loaning me a tent so I didn’t have to cart one up on the plane from San Francisco.
My first view of Mount Rainier after two years stunned me. Grandmother Rainier–as Fruitboy has dubbed her–radiates beauty.
Mugwort, Kirby, Dazzle, Tusk, and I admired the landscape at the lookout point on the way up from the White River campground to the Sunrise Camp, which is the highest altitude point on a highway in the state of Washington, according to Ranger Sierra.
The greenery provided an amazing contrast to the mountain, snow-covered even in mid-summer.
Much of the gathering took place at the Sunrise Camp employee living quarters, the home for Sierra and other rangers and interns during the season when Sunrise Camp is open to visitors.
Sierra can see a great view of Mount Rainier, similar to this one above, from his bedroom window.
Sunrise Camp consists of a lodge with a snack bar for visitors and the Visitor Center and employee living quarters. You can’t beat the views from Sunrise.
The first evening Mugwort and I arrived a bit late. After setting up our tents at the White River campsite that Dazzle and Tusk saved for us, we drove up to the Sunrise Camp and found Kirby and Franz chatting near the entrance to the employee residence building with the great view of Mount Rainier. Franz said he’d pull some dinner together for us in a bit, so Mugwort and I hiked a bit up the trail toward Dege Peak and had a look over the other side of the ridge at a beautiful rock slide canyon with a sunset on a multilayered mountain horizon that took my breath away.
After dinner, we were exhausted and went back to the campsite for an early night. I was fighting off a nasty cold, but the next morning I decided to accompany the group on the planned hike to the Burroughs Peaks, thinking I would turn back after reaching the summit of Burroughs Peak I, while the group continued on to Burroughs II and III.
After hiking past a mountain stream and lots of beautiful flowers like the Indian Paintbrush above, we saw spectacular views of glacial lakes and snowy mountain peaks on the way up to the Burroughs Peaks.
At an overlook point, we got a good look at the glacier we would visit the following day. Plus, we saw some Bear Flowers.
Part of the trail was on rock slides and Sierra led us fearlessly upward.
The summit of Burroughs Peak I is large and flat, kind of a moonscape.
We got some great views of the Mount Rainier summit and saw patches of snow all around us.
Burroughs Peak I affords a good peek at Burroughs Peak II, and after some persuasion by Sierra, I decided to continue on to the second peak.
We could see down into Berkeley Park, home of the amazing wildflowers, from the trail between Burroughs Peaks I and II.
We crossed our first snow on the trail at that point too.
The views from Burroughs Peak II were also spectacular.
The Hills Are Alive… with Fruitboy on Burroughs Peak II of Mount Rainier.
In the distance was a snowy lake that may be a reservoir.
After Burroughs Peak II, I headed back down while the others continued onward to Burroughs Peak III.
I was quite exhausted on the way home, due to my cold, but still enjoyed pine groves and flowery meadows while hiking.
We met again at the White River campsite the following morning for a hike to the ice cave at the base of the glacier we had seen the day before. Kirby held down the fort at the camp due to his broken leg.
On the glacier trail, we saw Devil’s Club plants, a deer, and some amazing mountain streams and lakes. The lakes were cloudy due to deposits from the glacier.
We saw a strange pyramidal peak in front of the Mount Rainier summit. Fruitboy, Sierra, Mugwort, Dazzle, and Tusk all joined me in checking out the glacier lake.
Besides the strange pyramidal peak, I saw what looked like an owl in stone from an outcrop looking over us on another side of the glacial canyon. On the canyon floor, Sierra noted the change in rock deposits perhaps due to the river, the glacier, or to lava flows.
The floor of the glacial canyon included other mysteries, such as the white lichen and the lime deposits thrust up from the canyon floor.
We got up close and personal to a glacial lake, some composite rock, and Fireweed flowers.
As we walked, I looked back and saw a marvelous vista. We came across Monkey Flowers and strange slime in a creek.
After fording a glacial creek, we approached the glacier. At first, I thought the finger of the glacier extending down between the river and the mountain was the mountain itself, but I eventually noticed the rocks tumbling off the melting ice.
Falling debris gave us the clue that we should not approach the glacier too closely.
At last, we saw the ice cave!
We got up fairly close and I was tempted to crawl inside, but both Sierra and Fruitboy insisted that would be a very bad idea.
So we watched from what we thought was a safe distance.
I decided to call the cave the alabaster ice cave due to the beautiful texture of its ceiling and walls.
A glacial river streamed out from the cave.
Watching the cave became a bit of a spectator sport.
Then, the ice cave started to collapse!
Large ice boulders started falling downstream and Sierra went down to retrieve some of the smaller ones for us to examine up close.
One piece of ice had a mysterious thing trapped inside, which must have been there for many years.
Then, the ice cave collapsed some more! This time baseball-sized chunks exploded out from where the ice crashed into the river and nearly hit us, so we retreated back further from the ice cave.
We remained entranced by the glacier melting for a long time, then did a ritual for healing of the earth so that the glacier would continue to exist. On the way back to the campsite, we saw a red succulent and stopped by a flowing stream to rest.
I saw a strange fungus on the trail and Fruitboy taught me how to identify different types of pine trees on our way back to camp. The next day was the day to head home, so I took a few pictures of Ranger Sierra at Sunrise Camp before saying goodbye.
Judy, our gathering mascot, gave us all good luck to spread whereever we go on our way down from the mountains. Thanks to Sierra and everyone else who made this gathering possible. 🙂
My friend Jim H. came by last evening and after eating penne pasta with tofu-tomato sauce and some Half Baked ice cream with semisweet chocolate sauce and Vermeer chocolate liqueur, we sat down to a film. The film was “The Education of Little Tree,” the story of a half-Indian, half-white boy raised by his grandparents after the death of his parents. They are a bi-racial couple living in Tennessee’s beautiful rural Smoky Mountains and distilling whisky for a living. One of our favorite lines from the film: “I believe your calf has died.” The film brought me to tears a few times, especially around Little Tree’s capture into a school for Indian boys, then his subsequent escape.
Speaking of favorite lines, my favorite so far from “The 4400: Series 2” is: “We left normal behind long ago.”
Jim told me all about his relationship with Jazzy. He’s planning to spend a lot of time up in Vancouver, Canada, exploring their connection further, with a possibility of marrying him and immigrating to Canada.
Lately, my life is full of crazy horrible dates with guys who talk on their cell phones during our date. Talk about a turn-off!
Yesterday, the mystery of what happened to Guille was solved. I noticed him online and chatted him up. He was cordial and even friendly and loving, yet he was on there to call his sister for her birthday. The day before he had sent me an email explaining that he had received the funds for his mother’s medical treatment, that the treatment was going well, and that he had been busy traveling around to take care of her. In other words, he was very busy, so didn’t have time to answer my emails or phone calls during that week. Then, while we chatted online, when I realized he was preoccupied with his sister’s birthday, I offered to wait and chat with him whne he finished with her. He seemed glad about that and said, “Dale,” in Spanish, which means, “Let’s do it.” So, I waited and waited for him, then I noticed that he signed off chat, then briefly back on, then off again, without chatting with me. I can’t help but feel disappointed. I’m feeling like the best move now would be to let him contact me, rather than throwing so much of my energy into what may be a lost cause.
No, that is too harsh. I want to let him contact me so that there is a balance in desire to connect within the relationship.
Interestingly, Paul T., who I met in Rio on my last trip and who now lives in Cordoba, Argentina, started chatting me up yesterday. This after I had decided not to seek him out any fruther since he didn’t want to meet with me while I was in Argentina. I told him that I didn’t feel like he was really a friend because chatting online once every several months didn’t make a friendship for me. I asked him if his boyfriend had broken up with him, and of course that was the case, probably because he gave his boyfriend the same on-and-off again attentions he has given me. He thinks a deep connection with me isn’t possible because of the distance, or so he says to me, even though he is now coming to the States on a regular basis. We left it that he will contact me on his next trip to the States and we will meet in person to see how things work out between us. Basically, I feel like it’s up to him at this point.
Meanwhile, on the eve of Queer Freedom Day in San Francisco, I met up with Robin Hood, who I had met previously at the Vancouver Green Body radical faerie gathering. He is a faerie who lives on an island on the Canadian coast. He and I set up a ritual (or scene) where I met him at the dinner that Kirk R. and his partner Ed had set up for Canadians coming to Witch Camp in Mendocino redwood territory. The scene involved a whirlwind tour of San Francisco’s queer underbelly, with him blindfolded and on collar and lead. We had a great time at various venues, such as navigating through 20,000+ people at the Pink Party on Castro Street, where I showed him the center of gay mecca as well as Harvey Milk’s camera shop, while we danced, him blindfolded, in the streets. People tried yanking his chain, removing his blindfold, and other shenanigans, sometimes without permission, but apparently the protective spell we cast to initiate the ritual on my back deck held well throughout the evening. We also visited the Hole in the Wall, where we removed the blindfold briefly so he could appreciate the visual panoply of this historic dive, then to the Powerhouse which we checked out and kissed and got blown on the rear patio after navigating stairs jam-packed with sweaty guys, all while he was still blindfolded and on collar and lead. Then, to Blow Buddies, the first time for both of us, where they made us remove the blindfold, and we watched lots of mindless sex in little cabins with glory holes and got blown again by a cute boy who sat on a toilet seat after we pissed in the nearby urinals. I liked how Robin Hood shared the boy freely with me and I loved the feeling of his short dark hair in my hands as my dick slid in and out of his sweet throat. I pet him as he sucked me, then kissed him after I came in his mouth, tasking my own cum on his lips. Then, we left Blow Buddies and headed to Afterglow, a Comfort & Joy party at Antler’s place in the Inner Richmond. There, we released our scene of Beauty (Robin Hood) and the Prince (moi) by Robin Hood saying, “And they lived happily ever after.” We partied a bit more there and I met a delicious faerie named Yoyo who Robin Hood urged me to get to know better, so I made out with and smoked a little pot with him. It turns out he is caretaking Eric (Cattail) and Mitcho’s cabin up at Covelo, and the next morning, after riding groggily with Mikes on Bikes (gay guys on bicycles) just after Dykes on Bikes (lesbians on motorcycles) who start the Queer Freedom Day Parade in San Francisco, I was at a brunch with Cattail and Mitcho where Cattil invited me to a little gathering over July 4th weekend at their place in Covelo. Thus, a possible time to hang out with Yoyo some more, although he may still have a “friend from New York” visiting him at that time. I’m trying not to get too attached to the notion of him falling for me, although I bet I could fall for him.
I saw him again on Queer Freedom Day when I went with the brunch boys from Johnny Thunder and Brian’s place in the Haight over to the Faerie Freedom Village. We weaved our way through the humungous crowds to drop our bikes off at the cool valet parking offered by the San Francisco Bike Coalition. The Faerie Freedom Village seemed more packed than usual, and with a lower proportion of faerie faces I knew to those I didn’t. That still meant hundreds I did meet and greet, including Ron and Rog who are real sweeties. A photographer friend persuaded Ron and me to get nekkid for pictures in the Vilalge, including some with the grease-covered buy in overalls who organizes Mikes on bikes each year. Hopefully, she will email copies of the pics as promised. I even had enough energy to stop in at the Mikes on Bikes party at Marty’s place on 14th St. on my bike ride home. I was hoping Yoyo might show up there as well, but he had been up all night since he stayed at Antler’s and probably crashed out somewhere before heading to the Mikes on Bikes party. I called and left a message with him about potentially hanging out a bit in Covelo over July 4th weekend. I will go anyway because it sounds like a fun group and an amazing place, even if I don’t get to hang with Yoyo.
Meanwhile, I’m focusing this week on Egypt, reading history and learning hieroglyphics. My project is gradually coming together and I’m very excited to be working on my true passion. Let’s hope the money side of things works out as well.
I’m really loving riding my new bike with the raised handlebars, so I don’t have to worry so much about my neck/spine trouble, and I’m ready to check out local swimming pools to get even more exercise. I’m doing yoga almost every day before I work on the novels, and I’m eating carefully to keep my weight down. I’m experimenting with going off my blood pressure medication and, so far, the blood pressure reading averages appear to be the same as when I was on the medication.
Storm’s buddy Hawke is visiting us for awhile and we are still searching for another housemate since the departure of Joannes (aka Janice) and Kat. I saw them at the Trans Rally and March on Friday, which I attended wearing a paisley skirt on my new bike.
The next morning when we woke up, I got all the money Guille would need for his journey and gave it to him. Then I told him that morning was our last chance to be intimate with each other for a long time and I wanted to be intimate with him, but I would understand if he wasn’t interested. He went for the intimacy! 🙂
After we got cleaned up, packed, ate breakfast, and checked out of the Hotel El Sol, we bought Guille’s bus ticket and brought my laundry to a lavaderia where they agreed to have it ready within a few hours. We walked through town, had a drink after sitting for awhile on a park bench, then picked up the laundry and headed back to an Internet cafe where I called in a hotel reservation, and emailed my uncle about not being able to cover him on grandparent duty during his trip to South Africa because it would start a day before I return from this trip and because things are crazy at home in San Francisco — I heard from my housemates Kat and Joannes that they will move out and the contractor working on the roof of the rear bay window has apparently really screwed things up. I told my uncle that I would of course be available on an emergency basis to fly to Rockville and help my mother take care of the grandparents if necessary. I haven’t heard back from him in almost two weeks — he didn’t even reply to email from Pierrette, our relative who I visited in São Paolo (more about that later).
It was rough hanging out in the Puerto Iguazu bus station waiting to say goodbye to Guille — as I write this tears are springing from my eyes. I think I really fell for him. I heard from him later, after calling him, that he made it back home just fine, then went to his hometown to visit his sick mother. He asked when we will meet again. I asked if he’d like to come study English in San Francisco. I haven’t heard back from him yet — it might be a bit much for him.
The bus ride to Foz do Iguaçu, the town on the Brazilian side of the border, was uneventful. I had to get off at the border, go through the formailities, then board the following bus. I walked from the bus stop at a supermarket to the Posada Evelina. Evelina’s adopted son let me in with the minimum hospitality required. Later, Evelina returned to the hotel and gave me an orientation with a bit of motherly advice. I met an Israeli woman named Elizabeth who, aside from her recovery from bad weather in Rio where she had brought some friends, was friendly and fun to converse with in French. We decided to go for dinner at the soup bar restaurant she had found with lots of vegetarian options — the first since Buenos Aires in my meaty travels.
After dinner, we walked to a restaurant in the center where a charming fellow was singing and playing guitar. We delighted in sample the creme mamão (papya) with cassis dessert and each had a different flavor of caipirinha. Elizabeth danced a bit and even dragged me to the floor for a reggae tune at the end of the evening. We went off in search of more fun in town, convincing ourselves that it really wasn’t as dangerous as the guidebooks and mother Evelina had warned us. But the town was dead, so we just walked back to the hotel and went to sleep.
Luckily our trip to the Argentinian side of the Iguazu Falls was a great success. We headed to the falls on the first available bus and the place was virtually empty when we arrived. We walked almost the entire “Upper Circuit” path of the falls before encountering another person, so it was a magical and romantic experience. That trail and the “Lower Circuit” trail make it possible to see many of the falls up close, far away, and from all different angles.
The falls are much more spectacular than what I remember of my trip ages ago to Niagara Falls, especially the part called Devil’s Throat (Garganta de Diablo). Guille fell into a bit of a trance there, whereas I started to get a bit motion sick and had to step away for awhile. We also took a boat ride which brought us right up under the falls so we got totally soaked. It wasn’t that warm a day and we ended up shivering for awhile on the boat and on a truck ride through the forest back to the center of the park.
On the truck ride, we learned that the true palmito tree is an endangered species with not many living anymore in the park or elsewhere. The palmitos we usually eat are another species cultivated on farms in Brazil.
Before the boat ride, we had walked on an island trail which was quite wonderful as well. To round out the day, we took a last hike on a trail where we saw another guinea pic like creature and some coatis, which look like a cross between raccoons and anteaters and travel in little packs. We caught a bus on the road back to town and we were completely exhausted.
Guille grew more and more agitated about returning to Montevideo. He was worried about his mother’s health, about finding work, and about keeping his apartment with Santiago. So we agreed that he would head back to Montevideo via Buenos Aires the next day, while I would continue on to Brazil. I drew a tarot card which confirmed that was the best idea… the Hermit! I felt a bit hurt especially because he didn’t want to be very affectionate with me. I think he may have worried that I would try to keep him with me. So we slept in two separate beds. Of course, neither of us slept well at all.
We crashed for a long time, then woke up too late for breakfast. I tried cuddling with Guille but felt like I was waking him up, so instead lay awake in the darkness feeling a bit frustrated. When he finally did wake up, we had a long talk in which he said we had to “adapt” to each other. Honestly, after talking with him I couldn’t see how he was adapting to me and he couldn’t give me any descriptions of it either.
Guille and I had some conflict, which at times seemed resoved, but at other times seemed like it could present ongoing difficulties. He likes to use tons of deoderant and can’t kiss without brushing his teeth or chewing gum. I guess I could adjust to that by trying to find a deoderant that we both like and by keeping gum close to the bed. He’s fascinated by operations and treatments to make people supposedly more beautiful, whereas I am generally repelled by them.
{May 24: In hindsight, I wish I had just adjusted instead of continuing the conflict.}
We drove in a 4×4 from Ypa Sapukai posada in Colonia Pelligrini to Posadas. We stayed at a lousy hotel. We walked around town, spent a couple of hours catching up on email at an Internet cafe, and ate a couple of meals, the first at a pizzeria and the second at a fancier pasta place, where one waiter dropped some dishes with one broken piece sliding dramatically across the entire length of the restaurant, coming to rest under a table by the front entrance, to the surprise of many of the guests and seemingly unnoticed by the staff. We ate too much at the restaurant but, perhaps bolstered by the bottle of wine we drank, decided to get ice cream as well. I suggested the small dish but Guille insisted on a larger one. Dirty children came by our table begging for spare change. I tried to give them the ice cream but Guille was horrified and the kids didn’t want it and quickly moved on. Guille thought I meant for him to share the ice cream with the kids, rather than just giving it to them.
We wandered the streets of Posadas a bit more, heading toward the walkway by the port, but suddenly I didn’t feel so well in my digestive tract, so we headed back to the hotel. Sure enough, I had a bit of diarrhea. That settled my feelings about Posadas.
The next day, the new guests headed out on the boat ride while Guille and I spent the day jogging and swimming in the pool on the hotel grounds. He can do cartwheels and even flips on the lawn and can run much faster than I can. He’s also easily embarassed by things I would never even think to worry about — for example, he insisted on holding a small towel over his swimsuit while running after swimming in the pool, yet he snuck his swimsuit off to swim completely naked a couple of times too.
In some ways, travelling with Guille is idyllic. He’s gorgeous for one. When he touches me, I go crazy. And most of the time when he’s not touching me, I’m still lusting after him.
He’s a big fashion fan and loves the stars and everthing that has to do with them. He fantasizes about helping stars who are in trouble and loves the music of Madonna (which I kind of like) and Britney Spears (where are my ear plugs?!), and others. He has little interest in local film, prefering horror and suspense films from the U.S.
I’m not really sure what attracts him to me — perhaps because I’m the first norteamericano he has made love with — or some kind of mythical association with the U.S. and all the stars? He has preferred older guys in the past. And he worries that I am just attracted to him for sex, which is definitely not the case, although I really love making love with him.
He likes to sleep until 1:00pm every day and recently lost a hairdressing job when the owner of the shop shut it down and didn’t bother to contact him. I have to decide how much further to travel with him. Considerations: compatibility, cost, experiences enhanced, experiences missed (like meeting other guys).
Anyway, after a lovely day by the pool, we joined the other guys for dinner at the hotel. The hotel staff, with whom Guille was by now quite intimate, prepared a local gaucho (cowboy) breakfast which looked really heavy and wasn’t vegetarian — they had forgotten to prepare a vegetarian dish for me but showed up with rice and eggs a bit later. Dessert was a flan with caramel.
After dinner, we all went for a couple of drinks — Quilmes beer in large amber bottles — at the only bar in town, which also served as a bike rental and souvenir shop. I met some cute guys from Entre Rios at the next table who worked a tractor in the countryside. I noticed a family resemblance between two of them and asked if they were brothers — turns out they were cousins. One of them laughed and looked at me in a kind of flirting way before leaving, which made Guille jealous.
A local mule trudged up to a window and stuck his head in as if expecting us to give him a beer. A cowboy sat with his pre-teenage son, both sharing a big bottle of beer. Strange black beetles flew into the light then flopped helplessly on their backs on the ground.
On the way back to the hotel, we tried without success to recognize any of the constellations in the beautiful starry sky.
