O.C.F. Caretaker's Journal O.C.F. Caretaker's Journal "A thing either is what
it appears to be; or it is not, but yet appears to be;
or it is, but does not appear to be; or it is not, and does not appear to
be." ---Epictitus
Monday 31 January A winter month is over and done! This morning I dug up the drain pipe where we will be tying in and disconnected the water heater by the pumphouse and brought it over, doing in effect what I can to the get the pieces in place for the new handwashing and drinking water station. Tim Wolden will be here on Saturday to assess the situation and then I will probably be able to start pushing the project along so it will be ready for the start of the Fair season. I headed into town with the Site Truck to get it lubed and oiled at Jiffy Lube and hit Eugene Fasteners for some parts needed on our mower sulky project. I have had a falling out with US Bank. It seems they sent me a notice last October that they were adding a service charge of five dollars for overdraft protection, which previously was free. This means a simple automatic transaction from my savings account to my checking. I never read the notice and only realized something was amiss was when I saw my bank statement and noticed that they had merrily been helping themselves to the tune of ninety dollars. Today I asked them very reasonably to remove the charges, which at first they refused to do, claiming I had been notified of the change and was therefore my responsiblity. Eventually they stated that they would refund forty-five dollars, to which I replied that it I would require either all or nothing. In the end I cashed out my three accounts, one of which I had held there for fourteen years, and deposited the four thousand dollars over in Pacific Continental, a locally owned bank. I realize fully that I cannot hurt the US Bank Corporation with my measly withdrawl, but I will at least claim a small moral victory with the fact that they can never cheat me out of another penny.
Sunday 30 January There was a thin layer of ice over everything this morning when Howard McCartney came over to work on the fabrication of the sulky. We worked on the thing until about three getting it up on its wheels. I asked Howard if I could watch the Super Bowl at his house and he agreed. It was actually a pretty good game but the real story of this event has to be its representation of our American culture, such that it is. It is a culture of consumerism and therefore of corporate commercials. Super Bowl is also the world's greatest advertising bowl. It is the consistently has the largest single event audience and therefore highest the highest priced commercial spots. Naturally there is a website devoted solely to Super Bowl commercials at www.superbowl-ads.com. This year thirty second commercials were getting record prices in excess of two million dollars, netting ABC over $130,000,000. The price was driven up astronomically by a dozen so called dot-com companies, who bought up about 25% of advertisement spots. dot-com ads are becoming ubiquitous in all media, including radio, print, and especially television. You can hardly turn on the box anymore without seeing one. Advertising on the web, where largely ignored banners must compete with numerous others, is simply not good enough. Ads are designed to attract people who don't use the Internet and to catch regular Internet users at times they're not normally online. Today's internet ads try hard to grab your attention with something, anything, and then plug their domain name at the last in hopes of reaching a mass market they will need to survive. Start up internet companies are gambling big (often spending more than their entire year's revenue for a single ad), on being able to establish name recognition. ABC, well aware of this fact, required the dot-coms to pay for their Super Bowl ads up front, something not asked of larger corporate sponsors, causing several of the new internet companies to futilely try to wiggle out of their contracts. Whilst all of this Web advertising in various media is helping the Internet sustain its incredible growth, the costs put a terrible burden on the start up dot-coms and I believe that eventually come this house of cards will have to begin tumbling back down.
Saturday 29 January Three beautiful sunny days in a row although the rain is predicted to return. The days are still cold and not much more than a half an hour longer than they were at the Solstice. There is frost in the mornings and the trees are bare. Nature continues her slumber and the Fair is still over five months away. But now as January wanes there are small signs that we have turned the corner and we are at the beginning of that long slow upward curve. First among these are the amount of people coming onto the Site to check booths or simply walk around. Not that many admittedly, but a few, and it is an indication at least that people are becoming reinvigorated with thoughts of the year to come. Today we started working on the new hot water sink and drinking water station for the volunteers. Steve and I cleared out the space and I installed a insulation closet for the water heater, built from a recycled part of the old security showers, and to which I added a door. I will continue to press forward with this project in hopes of building some early momentum.
Thursday 27 January Today I took the day off and went skiing at Williamette Pass with Craig Huber. It was incredible day, not a cloud in the sky, perfect snow conditions, dry roads, and no crowds. As Craig said, it doesn't get much better.
Wednesday 26 January Been working on the new sulky for the mower with Howard. Metal fabrication is just like just like carpentry, just different tools. Measure twice cut once, then stick the pieces back together again. Nice quiet day around here, the water has filled the lots again after three inches of rain over the last couple days.
Tuesday 25 January Tonight is Burns Night, the birthday of Scotland's most famous poet, Robert Burns. Burns Suppers have been a part of Scottish culture for over two hundred years and has become an occasion for Scots all over the world to gather together in his honor. The ritual was started by some of his close friends a few years after his death in 1796 and the basic format has remained unchanged since. The chairman opens the festivities with a speech, after which the company stands to recieve the haggis. This is a traditional dish of the heart, lungs, and liver of a sheep minced with suet, onions, oatmeal, and seasonings. If I weren't such a strict vegan I might be sorely tempted but others will definitely want this recipe. At any rate, a bagpipe player leads the chef carrying the haggis, who lays it before the chairman at the high table, while the guests cry out "Hail Great Chieftan o' the Puddin-race!" Then Burns' poem To A Haggis is read and the haggis is sliced open with the finely honed edge of a ceremonial dirk when the line "an cut you up wi' ready slight" is reached. The haggis is toasted with whiskey and the fine dining commences---which besides the haggis includes cock-a-leekie soup, champit tatties, bashed neeps, tyspy laird, and a tassie o' coffee, along with the requisite copious helpings of guid ale and whiskey. After retiring to another room and using the oportunity to refill glasses, another long-winded speech known as the Immortal Memory Address is given to evoke and honor the memory of the Bard of Ayr. The company stands at the end, glasses raised in an uplifting toast. A toast is made to the lasses after which the women have their turn to respond. Both these are light-heartedly done with poetry wrtten in Burns indubitable style. More poems and songs and whiskey follow, now in slightly less coherent form. The chairman finally gives some closing remarks, and a few more toasts to the host, chef, piper, and whomever might be made. The final song of the evening is always Burns' universally loved "Auld Lang Syne", sung with rousing gusto by the now well illuminated crowd.
Monday 24 January The weather was fairly miserable today, rainy and cold. I was a good day to write up my capital project proposal, which I did. I went by Jerry's and picked up a new steel chop saw that I have been wanting to get, then headed into Coyote Steel to pick up the materials to build a sulky for the new mower with. Howard McCartney has a plan for a basic platform that Randy will be able to clamp his wheelchair onto. That way he can retain his mobility if the mower runs out of gas or something. We will install a sleeve that will accept a post and seat for other users. forgetting it was closed on Monday, I went by Center for Appropriate Transport to try catch Jan to have him sign the proposal. Not actually being required to attend the Budget Meeting, I decided to bag it, stopping to pick up a replacement battery for Godzilla on the way back.
Saturday 22 January Last night I had the the inspiration to build a Swing Bike and was tossing and turning for hours before I could go to sleep just thinking about it. This morning I was merely intending to survey the parts for it but the next thing I know I was totally engrossed in the project. I worked non-stop on it all day without ever even eating. Working with junk means remaining creative every step of the way. All this is part of my master bike plan for this Summer. It is also helping my fabrication skills immensely, which will also no doubt come in handy closer to Fairtime. Sheldon, Arrow, and Vicky were out here having a Traffic meeting and later asked me to come along on a site walk, but I was driven to continue hacking away until right up to when it was time to go to the Coordinator's Potluck. Once there I devoured several plates of food and then chatted with some of the head honchos before we all got down to business. I stopped by Anna Delocis' house on the way back for a birthday/housewarming party. She and Blake bought a fixer upper last Summer and have been fixing it up ever since---but it is taking shape nicely.
Friday 21 January Another day inexplicably over. I caught up on a few things like taking back the highway cleanup stuff and shoveling out the Hubbard burned trash pile out of the Site Truck and into the dumpster. I hit the bank and then just by going by the hardware and grocery stores was minus sixty bucks. I was organizing the construction stuff which at times is menial sorting, but will be nice to be able to find stuff---even if I am the only one who will know where everything is. Steve and I took a site walk towards evening to survey the effects of the last flood and windstorm. There was the usual damage of course, but nothing too bad. We are really way ahead of where we were last year, and I hope I am not tempting fate too much to say that. The water has for all practical purposes receded again and if you were planning a canoe trip here this weekend you might as well forget about it. The river level remains pretty high though and a good hard rain will bring it right back up.
Thursday 20 January I spent the day alone at the Site. The Yurt received a once over and then tackled the mess I had going in the Ware House from my latest bike escapade. I have been continually dragging bike stuff back and it could be construed as taking over the place---so I culled a bunch out old wheels out to the scrap pile and bucked up several frames with a sawsall to make room for the inevitable more. I wasn't giving much hope to being able to see the lunar eclipse as the weather has been so bad. At around seven I went out and there it was, the full moon and the beginning of the eclipse in plain sight. I grabbed my binoculars, flashlight, camera, and bike and headed down to the lots. Skirting around and riding through the edges of the water, I made my way out to Bus Road which offered an excellent view. There were some low clouds that would obscure the moon for long minutes but then it would reappear against the starry sky. The edge of the umbra cut across the moon while it danced in and out of view, but during totality the sky cleared appreciably and it appeared smoky and bronze colored, the colors shifting around perceptively. The lower edge was brighter making its sphericality readily apparent. Eventually I headed back into the warmth, but revisited the spectacle several times more before it was over. I felt very lucky for having had the break in the weather and for having such a great place to see the first eclipse of the Twenty-first Century from. The VegManECs have a new redesigned webpage here, which really looks very nice.
Tuesday 18 January During the windstorm on Sunday a tree fell down across the driveway at the old Hubbard place. Today I went over and bucked up trunk and split the rounds. The new tenet, Jason, came out and helped me stack the wood and clear up the slash. There is another dead fir tree that threatens the barn and should be removed soon. After we were done I gave Jason a little tour around the Ware House-Yurt area. After lunch I returned with the tractor and we cleaned up the old burn pile by scooping up the entire thing and dumpimg it into the Site Truck. There was every kind of old thing in there including the remains of a deer. Slowly but surely I am eliminating the redneck aura of the place and Jason has become willing worker in this quest.
Monday 17 January Today is the feast day of Saint Anthony the Abbot, who was born in Eygpt during the middle of the third century. The son of wealthy parents, he inherited their possessions when he was twenty---only to dispose of them and begin devoting himself to religious exercises and the study of the lives of various ascetics. At the age of thirty-five, Anthony withdrew from the habitations of men and retired into absolute solitude. Crossing the Nile he found an old fort on a mountain near the east bank, into which he shut himself for the next twenty years without ever seeing another face, food having been thrown to him over the wall. Gradually a number of disciples, whom he refused to see, established themselves in nearby caves and huts. Finally Anthony emerged and devoted himself to the instruction and organization of the great body of monks that had grown up around him, eventually living to be over a hundred years old. Saint Anthony is considered to be the father of monasticism, which florished in the Middle Ages with such orders as the Benedictines, Franciscans, Dominicans, and Carmelites. He is the patron saint of lost articles and domestic animals, and is always shown pictured with a pig. In some rural parts of modern Italy the community buys a pig and allows it a free run of the town. The pig is marked with a bell around its neck as the pig of Saint Anthony and is much indulged and beloved throughout the year. The pig's run of good fortune ends in on this day, called the Festa del Porco, when the person who wins it in a lottery takes it home and eats it. Some of the money from the lottery is then used to purchase the next year's pig. In Mexico oxen, burros, and horses are decorated with ribbons and garlands. Sheep, dogs, cats, chickens, and even parrots are brought to the parish church to be sprinkled with holy water. In some rural communities, people even bring bags of worms and harmful insects which are blessed to keep them from hurting the crops.
Sunday 16 January Yesterday was Highway Pickup and there was a fairly decent turnout for a such a rainy and cold day. The snow had melted away almost entirely so we could spot the trash. There wasn't as much trash as usual either. We attribited this to the fact that the litterbugs have had their windows rolled up lately. The basic activity around Site this weekend other than that was canoeing, and plenty of it. Yesterday with Palmer, Rande, and Randy in one canoe, Howard and Steve Simmons in a second and Mikee and I in a third, we ranged through the Eight, across the lots, into the Unorganized Territory, back on Fire Road, across Chela Mela and down the Long Tom back to the Ware House. Everyone was pretty soaked by the rain by then. Today there were a bunch more people and a few gluttons for punishment who couldn't get enough yesterday. I wasn't one of them, however. During a particularly heavy downpour, I became inspired to build another muntant bike. While this one contains no truely new inovations, yet it will combine several of the standard muntant concepts into a single bicycle. This one will be a yet unnamed tandem-tallbike-chopper. Check out C.H.U.N.K. 6 6 6, a Portland based bike club, for some truly inspired creations.
Friday 14 January A warmer and drier day let me get outside, do a little work, and shake off the cabin fever. I picked up the highway pickup equipment, which is happening tomorrow at 10AM by the way, if anyone is interested in pitching in. Come on out, we would love to see you! I fixed a flat on the tractor and set up the Rubbermaid trailer to haul our little rowboat around. The water is up at its maximum depth so far this Winter so I can pretty much guarantee great canoeing conditions this weekend. If you have never done that, it is definitely a really a fun and interesting experience not to be missed. I took a long paddle around the property during the afternoon, picking up floatables. There is a noticeably smaller amount of trash this year and I attribute it to three things. First off I think that last years concerted effort fished out things that had been out there for years. Second is that we have not yet really had a huge flood that would bring stuff down from upriver. And finally I would like to think that we all did a better job cleaning up this year, although a few of my scores were undoubtably rather new. Still, it is nice to see the change, whatever the reason! I just spent a quite a while updating the links between the pictures above for surfing pleasure, so please enjoy.
Thursday 13 January Although it was raining, the temperature hovered near the freezing mark overnight as there was still some snow on the ground this morning. Around noon it began snowing again, big fat flakes. Bill Large was down from Portland to do some survey work on the Far Side but it was of course too flooded. It is interesting that on our side of the river the floods correspond at leaast to some degree with the river level, while on the other side the river channel is much higher than the flooded plain below. Bill came back over and I took him on a canoe tour around the place and afterwards set out alone, this time in the lots. The combination of the flooding, snow, and fog had transformed the Fair into an unearthly Valhalla. Then the mercury inched back up a degree or two, turning the snow back to rain, and so I turned back too--- happy to be a witness to yet another manifestation of Nature's omnipotence.
Wednesday 12 January The Fair was clothed in a white blanket of snow this morning! Cindy Thieman and Nancy Hafner were out to do the monthly Water Quality Monitoring. Nancy was a bit confused by a stream across the road, a bent over tree, and the virgin snow that combined to effectively camouflage the road---but eventually she arrived. Nancy has volunteered to be my partner at the Upper Long Tom One site as well as filling in for others when necessary. Cindy was here to train her. After calibrating the instruments at the Yurt we headed out into the snowy day to do the tests. By afternoon the weather had warmed up a degree or two and everything turned to slush. If it had turned colder instead, things would have gotten pretty ugly with the resulting ice. As it was several limbs and small trees have come down from the heavy, wet snow. Later in the afternoon Steve and I went on a mission to recover my waylaid canoe. Since it wasn't where I had abandoned it we began trolling for it, eventually coming upon its red plastic underbelly perhaps a half mile downstream. Very careful not to repeat yesterday's misadventure we hauled it ashore, dumped the water out, and paddled back.
Tuesday 11 January It has indeed flooded through the Eight. Not a giant flood since it only rained another half inch since yesterday, but always impressive never the less. I set out in a canoe but wisely decide to leave my camera behind. I am returning down the river when the combination of the swift current and awkward tree branch cause the canoe to capsize. Suddenly I find myself beneath the icy, turbid waters. I'm not wearing a life preserver. Struggling back to the surface I can feel my water filled knee boots dragging me down. Removing them, I abandon the overturned canoe and swim to shore, then wade back home through the knee to waist deep water. A hot shower, hot drink, dry clothes, and the only surfing I'm doing during the rest of the day is on the net. It's Hilary's birthday and she celebrated with dinner at the Chef's Kitchen with Leslie, Charlie, and myself. Coincidentally or not, Thursday is St. Hilary's Day. He was lived from 315 until 368 AD, from what I can make of it had something to do with converting the south of what is now France to Christianity. He is the patron saint of snake bite victims. According to British folklore St. Hilary's Day marks the coldest day of the year and, in my case at least, might very well be true.
Monday 10 January There are days in the old caretaking business when it is not worth bothering to do much of anything around here. Today was one of those glorious days. Rain beat down incessantly throughout last night and whole of today. The boss was conveniently away. I did manage to pull myself out of bed eventually, and make my way into town to talk about building a portico on the front of a house. Evidently the plan was liked so I will be involved with that project over the next couple months. I hit a movie on the way home and when I came out the rain had finally let up. There are three inches in the gauge over the last twenty-four hours and so the water will be on the rise---but I won't know until tomorrow how high it will go this time.
Sunday 9 January It is a sad fact that although I have over seventy channels of television, including so twenty-odd sports channels, I couldn't even watch the playoffs this weekend. That is because I have satellite and until the details can be worked out at the government level, I am not able to recieve ABC, CBS, or FOX, although I get NBC, which does me zero good this weekend. They would gladly to sell me a handgun if I wanted one, but not so a channel I could get for free if I lived a little closer to town--- that's only in America. The VegManECs were out for their Sunday workparty a week late since last week it was the day after the morning after. The possiblity of some two day hangovers loomed large I suppose. We all worked at raking and moving some big leaf drifts at Main Stage. The leaves wash down East 13th during the floods and settle as it opens up on the Meadow. Last year we waited too long and patches of grass were smothered and had to be replanted. In a mere couple three months from now we are going to be out there mowing away getting it ready for the next Fair. I can almost smell that freshly mown grass from here!
Saturday 8 January Pretty slow out here for a Saturday. Nobody out to visit us except David Hoffman who is like clockwork. The three of us mulched the nursery plants with hay against the frost. We fixed a bail dam and put the beam bonnets on Jill's Crossing. Admitedly it's a bit late to be doing these jobs, put like any kind of farm type work, there are always more chores than it is possible to do and you have to prioritize. Today's jobs were down on the list. I also beefed up a broken handle on the heavy duty cart with the welder. As I said, a slow day.
Friday 7 January Went to start Godzilla but no juice. When I attemped a jumpstart I found out the reason why not---somebody had swiped the battery. To badly paraphrase old Honest Abe Lincoln, you can't watch all of the people all of the time. I strapped on the blower and cleared the Yurt roof and gutters of leaves and fir needles, no problem. Then I did the west wing of the Ware House, which was a little bit more of an interesting challenge as it was so slippery. The tool shed was in a horrible mess and so I straightened that out. Steve and I tried to go for our usual Our Daily Bread Friday dinner, but sadly for us it was closed for vacation, andso we had the unusual instead, the Countryside.
Thursday 6 January A cold, rainy day. The temperature hovered around 40 degrees and the dampness helps the chill penetrate. I started up some of the trucks and swapped the Peach Truck for Mothra in the Hubbard barn so that work can be done on it in a dry place. I stored the slip-on fire tanks on Mothra. Part Three - The Trip. Hilary and I drove down to San Francisco and spent the night with Red John, Abby, and their new baby Emon. The next day we had a whirlwind tour of the city, courtesy of Red John's previous taxi driving skills. That evening we boarded the Green Tortoise and drove through the night. By the next day we had picked up people in LA and San Diego and crossed the border. The evening allowed our first taste of Mexico in Ensenada, which had a kind of a rough border town feel. We pushed through the night and had breakfast in the desert, our first cookout and the first real chance to meet everyone on the bus. We camped at a beautiful oasis in the middle of Baja and discoed to the what came to seem like the Mexican National Anthem---Mambo # 5. Another ride put us at our first beach campout. Crossing the Tropic of Cancer, we arrived in the sunny beach town of La Paz and spent the night, having plenty of time for shopping and looking around. The following day we boarded a ferry and, bringing the pads from the bus with us, slept on the deck during the sixteen hour crossing of the Sea of Cortez to the Mexican mainland. Upon arriving we pushed further south to the town of San Blas, the desert giving way to lush tropical jungle. It was Christmas Eve and we spent the night and following day on a nearby beach. We took a side trip and hike for a swim at a spectacular waterfall. Then north again to Mazatlan, an aging resort town; with body surfing, water slides and more shopping opportunities. A night drive brought us to Los Moches where we caught a train up through spectacular canyon country to Creel, a town at 8000 feet, the domain of the Tarahumara Indians. Some of us rented mountain bikes and pedaled to a 3000 foot canyon descent where we found a river fed by hot springs. We stayed two nights and as we prepared to leave we found out that a train had derailed and we would be unable to return the way we came. This necessitated a grueling eighteen hour ride on a Mexican bus back to Los Moches. We were never so happy to see our comfortable old Green Tortoise bus! After a day on the beach we headed up to Guaymas and celebrated the New Millennium. Finally it was time go. I couldn't resist one last snorkel dive as the bus was being packed. A long drive back to San Francisco and we disembarked with plenty of memories and lots of new friends.
Wednesday 5 January I spent part of the day getting settled back in. It was a perfectly gorgeous day and I took a long walk around the site. It has been a relatively dry year thus far and erosion damage has been minor. The exceptions to this are a couple of bank sluffs that have taken some small trees into the river. One is at Ark Park and the other is on Strawberry Lane across from the map booth. Part Two - Mexico. Despite having traveled a fair old bit in my time, I had never been south of the border. I took this trip in part because I hope to eventually join the Peace Corps and serve in a Latin American country. Canada is like the United States---only cleaner and more sturdily built. Mexico is another world altogether. As soon as you cross the border you feel a difference beyond the language barrier. The Mexican people are very friendly and extremely laid back. Unlike the USA where the Europeans basically supplanted the native populations, the Spanish immigration was much smaller and the current population has a strong Indian heritage. The sun shines every day. The small towns heat up with life as the tropical nights cool down. There are often several small businesses waging friendly competition under one open air roof. Centuries old churches face central plazas where people gather. An apparent lack of building codes adds a certain charming dishevelment to the architecture. Sidewalks drop off into space and potholes abound. Bright paint, murals, and folk art are commonplace. Mariachis roam the streets. The image of the Virgin of Guadalupe abounds in makeshift shrines large and small. Despite a population of over ninety million, there are enormous tracts in Mexico of untouched wilderness, wildly rugged and beautiful. The waters are clear, inviting, and abound with sea life. One of the only things I don't like is all the litter strewn about. Poverty is present everywhere but the people are rich in other ways, such as in family ties. The Mexican plumbing is rather infamous. In order to keep small pipes from plugging up, trash cans are provided for used toilet paper---not just in some places but everywhere. Seats are often lacking and buckets of water employed as a means of flushing. After a while these drawbacks only reinforce the third world charm of the place. Definitely not in Kansas any more. Personally I am hooked and am determined to improve my Spanish so that I can get deeper into the culture the next time I return.
Tuesday 4 January Happy New Year! I am back from my vacation in Mexico and ready to resume my duties here at the Fair Site along with the daily entries of this Journal. Everything seems to have gone well here while I was gone, no major disasters like last year's freeze. Thanks again to norma, Dick, and Tommy for looking after the place while I was gone. Starting today I am going to post a three part series that will cover some of my basic impressions of the trip. Part One - The Green Tortoise. Back in the Sixties an alternative bus line called the Gray Rabbit was making coast to coast runs. It featured comfortable bunks instead of the torturous seats featured on Greyhound Bus Lines and its name was actually a humorous jab at its bigger competitor. One of the bus drivers was Gardener Kent, who liked the notion of greater comfort but decided that slower was actually better than faster. In 1974 he formed Green Tortoise Adventure Travel, based in San Francisco, with one old school bus. His idea proved so successful that eventually the company bought out Gray Rabbit and currently boasts a fleet of fourteen buses, one that permanently lives in Central America. Today a wide variety of trips are scheduled and can last from anywhere from a day to a month. They go from coast to coast, Alaska, Mexico, Central America, National Park Loops, as well as West Coast commuter runs and a variety of special trips---including one that comes to the Oregon Country Fair. The Green Tortoise is truly an alternative experience that is comparable to attending an event of greater magnitude. Being crammed on the bus with close to forty other strange people is a little intimidating at first, but before long everyone is on a first name basis and behaving like old friends. Mostly vegetarian meals are prepared at stops with everybody pitching in to do the work, which can happen amazingly quickly with that many hands. Much of the travel is done at night so that days can be enjoyed in new locals. A nightly ritual called the "miracle" takes place when the bus is converted from its daytime configuration into a giant rolling bunk. There are two drivers and one is usually sleeping in a special compartment at the back while the other drives on. A new place becomes quite festive as the Tortoise people pile out of the bus and into the town, beach, hot spring, or what have you. Being on the bus is a unique experience and each trip has its own dynamic. Many passengers return again and again because no two trips are alike. I would have to say that community interactions with fellow travelers becomes the actual focus of the trip, while the exotic locations are almost reduced to secondary backdrops. A trip like this can give you lifetime friends and memories, and I would highly recommend it to hale and hardy travelers seeking adventure, but certainly not to tourists types looking for a pampered vacation.