They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. For us, it was lined with flowers. Mt. Shasta loomed on the horizon, summit nearly hidden in a dirty blanket of clouds. A tangle of desert bushes and trees speckled the landscape we walked the dusty path to Pluto’s Cave.
writing
Auraji: the Place I Think Of
When I think of Auraji, I think of the rice fields. Criss-crossed by tiny roads more often walked than driven upon, they fill the valley with brilliant green leaves rustling in the breeze. Mountains ring the valley, visible with the absence of the haze which can plague Korea’s urban areas. It is a valley where …
Being American in Iran
I almost didn’t tell my family I was going to Iran. My mother and father worry for my safety, as parents do, and are sources of endless reasons why I shouldn’t visit certain destinations. They’d handled my ambitions to travel through Myanmar back in January 2013, and Mongolia that May. They’d done admirably well when I …
Into the Familiar Unknown
The car park was surprisingly full for such an overcast day; the gravel still soaked from the on-again off-again showers. We were prepared, though, with jackets and plastic bags to wrap around valuables should Washington’s clouds live up to their reputation. Nearly two months had passed since I flew into Sea-Tac from Stockholm, after having …
Christmas Letter 2014
This year, Christmas is going to be weird. Not because I’m spending it in a flat near the outskirts of Pohang or in a Korean beach-side pension with many of my dear friends. Not even because I’m spending it on a beach in Thailand belting Johnny Cash tunes out across the waves. No, this year is weird …
Sunset in Khiva
The sun was setting on my first full day in Khiva, and I was sitting on a ledge watching it sink behind a horizon punctuated by minarets and mosques. The day had been a full one, wandering through the Ichon-Qala fortress which encompasses most of the remaining Old Town. Now, merely sitting and watching the …
Hitch-hiking into Tajikistan
The ancient Russian troop transport rumbled and creaked as it trundled up the Ak-Baital Pass, a breath-taking (literally) 4,655 meters above sea level. After several stops to let the engine cool, we crested the top and a cheer rose from the border guards in the back. The young soldier next to me gave me a thumbs up. “Okay?” …
A Dose of Friendship in Arslanbob
“Come, join us!” my host’s friend beckoned, pointing to the colorful cushion across from his 3 year old grandson. I sat where he’d indicated, next to my host. Both men had grey hair frosted with white, just about their only similar feature. My host wore a taqiyah, while his friend sported an old-fashioned fedora. “We …
That Time I Bought a Ural
It was 31 years old and looked it, a heinous shade of blue with beefy tires and two dinky seats. It was a 1983 Ural with a sidecar and I was in love. I’ve been planning this trip for over a year. What started out as a motorcycle trip across China into Kyrgyzstan morphed into …
The Haunting at Jangsa Beach
*The following story is based on actual events* Just a short walk from the highway by Jangsa Beach, the house lurked at the base of the hill. To its right, a pavilion lay in ruin, collapsed roof and pillars leaning amid the rubble. On its left, a shop boasted graffiti in bloody red; the Hangeul for ‘devil’ and ‘ghost’ looked hastily scrawled. …