“If you look at Earth from space you see a dot, that's here. That's home. That's us. It underscores the responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.” Carl Segan
This website is best viewed on a desktop. The music placed at the beginning of each story is a layer of storytelling and is highly recommended. The song can be played by clicking the play button at the beginning of each event. All the photos can be enlarged with a single click.
a beginning
JUNE' 22
5
A beginning full of questions. An early, much-anticipated departure. As dawn breaks and the miles count up, the excitement settles in. After a year of planning, intense challenges, and sleepless nights, it was all finally coming to a resolution. The occasional ray of light peeks through the low-hanging clouds, revealing a fragment of the adventures to come.
Sixteen long hours later the rain was heavy without an ending in sight. With a minor electrical problem looming over, a decision was made. The drive ended short of the goal. In the morning the repair was swift and the trek continued.
Badlands
JUNE' 22
6
Sheer faces towering over the landscape like a dense city skyline. Sandstones, siltstones, mudstones, claystones, limestones, volcanic ash, and shale all stirred into a concoction and layered as if earth created a delicious cake. These phenomenal geological features lay on a span once known as the Western Interior Seaway, which stretched from the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Ocean.
While exploring the park, I landed upon a random dirt road that stretched through the most mesmerizing fields of green. It’s hard to forget this place. The breeze was quietly choreographing the fields into a soothing dance. A much-needed nap later, the exploring continued.
The tiny gophers were curiously gazing at me as I was slowly passing by, admiring their creations. The little creatures took an underground dive as I attempted to make eye contact, my sight seemed to frighten them. Finally, a brave hero rose to the occasion and let me take his photo. My eyes were constantly being pulled by movements in every direction. Each animal was occupied with the daily routine, it felt like being in a miniature town. The ground looked as if it was the surface of another terrestrial planet, battered and beaten by meteoroid.
Continuing west brought me into Black Hills National Forest. I followed a dusty old trail that lead me to a little gem named Flag Mountain Overlook. With daylight dissolving and the warmth in the air fading away, I finished dinner and sank into a deep sleep. The night had other plans for me, high winds relentlessly swayed the car through the night and left me missing on essential sleep.
Yellowstone
JUNE' 22
7
The drive from Rapid City to Yellowstone took me through an ever-changing landscape. The varying colors and textures of the ground were absolutely the highlight of the day. I chose the more scenic highway 16. It took an unbelievable clime up the mountains, peaking at just over 9200ft/2800m, before descending into the town of Basin.
Yellowstone met me with a shower of hail, which thankfully moved in the opposite direction. That was just a sample of what the weather had in mind. A week later a flash flood took the north entrance road which I had passed through. The wildlife didn’t seem to be bothered by the weather nor the passing vehicles. This was their home, a true ecological heaven.
I had such high expectations for Yellowstone. Perhaps what I’ve seen and read online set me up for a small disappointment. People tent to depict places in the best light in optimal conditions. But life isn’t just that, it’s also the storm between the sunshine the darkness amidst the sunsets. With this mindset, I was comfortable with all that was to come.
great plains
JUNE' 22
8
Another spectacle of a drive. The road always leads the way. The breeze brought in by the rain gently rocks the car back and forth. It’s difficult to grasp the scale of the endless landscape. Nothing can translate the beauty that’s hidden here. Rolling oceans of green expand into the nothingness, far out there. My eyes have a hard time adjusting to my surrounding. My senses are mysteriously puzzled by the infinity that expands and transforms the colors of the ground. From deep greens to hues of jade to the colors of emerald oceans. How can something so palpable be so elusive? Lost in the moment I find myself slowing down to a crawl.
Even in these remote parts, I find people traveling by pure will. With the mountains in the backdrop and just a few belongings strapped to the side, the man disappeared into the distance.
Sometimes we get lucky. I had turned around for a split second to switch lenses and they had all vanished like ghosts into the vastness.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas
Out of my kitchen window, a live painting was being composed. It didn’t demand an observation, its existence was one of mere happening. With my last bite, the sunset released its final glow. Wolves hallowed in the distance as a reminder of my guestly presence.
West Glacier
JUNE' 22
9
Pushing further north came with a new challenge. The headwind was fierce and unwilling to let me pass. The road meandered and climbed, it hugged the side of the mountain. With patients and two hands at the wheel, I made it into East Glacier Park. In these parts of the country, against these backdrops, I can’t help but feel like a tiny single-cell organism.
Going to the Sun Road is a seasonal road due to the terrain surrounding it. Unfortunately, with the timing of my visit and the late seasonal change this year, this road leading into the heart of Glacier National Park was still closed. I will be sure to revisit this astonishing land.
I remember less each day,
I search my brain
Then entertain
The thought of you
With me again.
And for a while
I wear a smile
But then once more
You start to fade.
I try and try
To only find
That you’re not here
And I remain.
-unknown poet
As I was descending south towards my next location, I was dreaming of a trip up north through Canada all the way to Alaska. The mysticism of the barren land allures me. The thought hangs over for the next few hours. What would I find there?
Looking Glass Hill
Highway 2
Silver Staircase Waterfall
Flathead River
All this time i’ve been hearing of bears. I finally got a glimpse of one.
I set up camp for the night at a place called Lolo National Forest. With the sun deep beneath the horizon, the environment come to live. A beautiful symphony between all the animals started around 9:30. The harmony was awe-inspiring. Sadly the concert ran short, it was over by 10:45 and the silence took over. I could hear myself think. That night, I learned of the hidden layers within the absence of sound.
Bear Lake
Mount Rainier
JUNE' 22
11
I was thrilled for this part of the journey. Taking White Pass, also known as Route 12, was an experience of its own. The pavement was eroded, beaten and patched up. The road was bruised, but it kept forging thought the thick jungle like environment. From there I took Paradise road, which was an easy climb to the ski lodge.
My grandma was once an eager young alpinist with tremendous discipline. Naturally, I was by her side on a few trips. These adventures sparked a new-found curiosity for mountaineering. The fire within me has stayed lit throughout the years.
I imagine of a day. I am sitting at the basin of Mount Everest. Her frozen skirts engulf my entire view. At this height, it feels as if I am in a theater play. With the thinnest of the air anything is possible. Wild winds mold the ridges high above and rush through the gorges, roaring in the distance. Snow storms echo between the dense clouds, pirouetting ice matter above the horizon. The mountain creeks and strains under its own layered coats. The gong strikes. The white curtains come down and the show ends.
Nisqually River, southern slope runoff
Every step was followed by a deep breath. At these extreme angles the slopes no longer seemed that welcoming.
People in the distance returning from camp Muir.
A marmot just relaxing in the sun.
180mm zoom
300mm zoom
It said that the summit stays perpetually hidden under its vail.
What an unbelievable day. I can't remember the last time I felt this happy. Hiking to one of the lower overlooks gave me a new-found fulfillment. The wind was brutal at that height, with windchill in the 25 degrees. Standing there, and then I knew, a return is irresistible.
Following that adventure, I descended into Seattle just in time to catch a local Swing dance. The space was electric and full of glimmering smiles. The community was incredible, and the venue was one which will be hard to forget. I am thankful to have met the team of organizers who stayed true to the origins of this dance. I even met an old friend. Until next time.
“I’ve never seen a Lindy Hopper who wasn’t smiling. It’s a happy dance. It makes you feel good.”
- Frankie Manning, Ambassador of Lindy Hop
hoh rainforest
JUNE' 22
13
“The Hoh Rainforest is the wettest forest in the Contiguous United States, receiving over 200 inches of rain per year.” In my short visit I found that evidence to be true, I even got to witness the different forms of rain. There was everything from light playful drizzle to punishing monsoon rain. Despite the conditions the spirit of the forest remained tranquil as if it was in a state of meditation.
This part of Washington felt intimate.
As if I stepped into someone’s backyard.
Ruby Beach
Nature’s exquisite art exhibit
On my drive, I discovered this discreet gallery that was tucked away in the Olympic Wildlife Reserve. There I met the brilliant Sandy Early, who took me through her art journey.
“Every time you touch a piece of clay, the clay brings something, but you bring something too. Every single day I work with clay, it’s a dance between those two things. I don’t have complete control. I work with what I have.” - Sandy Early
I was really emotionally moved by her originality, soul and spiritual freedom through expression. Being an artist myself, I know of the difficulties and challenges each piece brings, in the endless pursuit to craft one’s imagination.
“Raku generally refers to a type of low-firing process that was inspired by traditional Japanese raku firing. Western-style raku usually involves removing pottery from the kiln while at bright red heat and placing it into containers with combustible materials. Once the materials ignite, the containers are closed.” -Beth Peterson
This is where reality meets romance. Sandy’s art work was the love language of her heart. Her pieces felt effortless, boundless and timeless. Rich with elements and graceful at the same time. I could have spent hours admiring each detail and imagining the process which lead to the final decision. My time was short but memorable.
Salt Lake Flats
JUNE' 22
16
I din’t know what to expect from this part of the journey. Some of mankind’s greatest triumphs have taken place right here at the Bonneville Salt Flats. The flats become famous in the 1930s. In 1935 Malcolm Campbell was first to achieve 301mph. The ballpoint pen wouldn’t be invented for another three years, and mankind had already invented machines that can outrun their own shadows. Ever since numerous records have pushed technology and knowledge, unfortunately this part of human history has a sad ending. The salt crust once measuring at three feet thick is only a few inches deep now. The flats may soon disappear all together like a mirage in the distance.
The weather was exceptionally warm, with a breeze that carried hot air from the sweltering ground. The salt was surprisingly salty and quite wet for the relatively low humidity. The flatness of the earth created giant phantom lakes, and everything above ground appeared to be floating. This was one of the most surreal experience to this day. The aura surrounding this land was exceptionally beautiful.
The virgin fields in Twin Falls so perfectly captured the elegance and enlightenment of nature. Untethered and unwilling to lose the fight, it reminds us that behind every grain of dust, there is a sophisticated balance that ever so slightly tips the scales of life. We the homosepians have the ability to make drastic changes to that balance. This fight is not for our planet, it’s for civilization as we know it. Earth, life on earth will continue to exist with or without us. What follows is the question.
elaphan cove
JUNE' 22
17
The drive through Zion National Park was slightly spoiled with the tour busses and numerous other visitors. The roadsides parking was overflowing onto the street. Newly released guidelines made visiting the slot canyons harder. On days such as this it’s best to keep on driving. Next stop Elephant Cove trail.
“Stop measuring days by degree of productivity and start experiencing them by the degree of presence.”
Having a home cooked meal at camp is the icing on-top of the cherry. Pan friend salmon and red cabbage, fresh kale drizzle with honey sriracha mix, home pickled red onions on a bed of ramen. I adore this food for it’s where nutritious meets deliciousness. So simple yet full of flavor. Don’t mind me if I devour this bowl.
Grand Canyon
JUNE' 22
18
The road reaches into the distant horizon and as I approach it more of this wonderful planet unfolds. Everything is so vast in scale and age. It’s simply a miracle that my inconsequential travel lets me observe this happening. In this way humankind is a magnificent time machine. For hundred million years the layers got comforted, eroded by wind and water. Time never stood still but in some unexplainable way the human character has found the key to abate reality. In some cryptic way our happening makes time tick at a fraction of its speed. How would we choice to document reality. Is it black and white as science portraits it to be, or are there shades and tones of colors beyond the bounds. Once that can only be seen through the eyes of the heart.
The sunlight playing a native dance under the thick clouds.
Me finally got a photo of me.
I don’t know what this mess is called but it was approved by my taste buds.
The dust storms shrouded the road in anger.
I can feel a growing fascination with the absence of a society.
Little Colorado River Gorge Overlook
alstrom point
JUNE' 22
20
The 35 miles of off-road trails from the highway took a good part of two hours. The ground cover was thick mud-like sand with a hard top layer. The dunes appeared to be formed by the hand of time, like the sand pyramid in an hourglass. The surface was strained from ongoing droughts and large cracks had formed, foreshadowing the bleak future. Lake Powell’s water levels told the full story. A man-made lake that supplies drinking water and farmlands across the neighboring states, Nevada, Arizona, and California, had Its lowest level in nearly 40 years. The Glen Canyon Dam which encircles the lake is designed to produce 1300 megawatts annually, is now operating at 800 megawatts. We can all agree that we live in a strange time. The abnormal could become the normal if we ignore the warning signs. I hope we can all look into ourselves and raise the question of our existence.
This place was a kaleidoscope full of color.
The washboard roads were unavoidable. Going faster was the only way to minimize the strain on the car.
I found this geological feature fascinating. It looked as if it was build in 500 bc in Rome.
It looks quite addable, like huge mounds of rainbow cotton candy.
By far the most challenging road so far. I was too anxious to photograph this part of the trip.
I met a brave little chip monk, whom we should call Pepe. I found his courage remarkable and humbling. There was hardly a living plant up here, let alone food for a living creature. I noticed him when he peeked from behind the wheel. He was curious but cautions and perhaps very hungry. Some oats and nuts was as close as I could get to non-processed food. Pepe took the chance and leaped into my hand to fill his cheeks. After a few minutes he ran off to his hiding place to stash what he had found and then returned for another mouth full. I gave him a good portion of food and water and let him eat in peace, admiring him from a distance. This unexpected encounter left a remarkable imprint in my heart. So long, my friend.
The night felt surreal. Temperatures fell to a comfortable 75f. There was complete lack of air movement. Standing at this large overlook of Lake Powell you would imagine there to be some wind draft, mixing air streams, anything really. The inn-ability to feel any air movement felt spooky, almost like being in a hermetic chamber. If I were to close my eyes, this could have been any place, even my own living room. I really didn’t want to leave this place, it felt heavenly peaceful, like a pleasant dream.
Antelope canyon
JUNE' 22
21
As the sun creased the horizon, I was already backtracking the boulder fields from the day before. The drive back was going to take me some time, and my reservation for the Lower Canyon was in the early morning. Antelope Canyon is part of the Novaho Nation. The Novaho tribe is one of the major indigenous groups of North America. As part of their territory, the canyons are managed and cared for by the people of the land. My guide for the day, Alfredo, was an interesting individual. He had spent his whole life out here. I felt how his spiritual and physical beings had been enriched by the sacred lands. As he told stories of the wild life and nature, a vivid picture was being painted. In this beautiful image, the symbiosis between each particle gave life to love, passion and care. His unobstructed mind flourished in the tranquil oceans of his existence.
The Unforgiving truth
One hundred and ninety billion years, from a single crack to a mesmerizing formation
One hundred and ninety billion years, of water and wind ever so gently carving into the stone
One hundred and ninety billion years, of heaven to unique ecological communities
One hundred and ninety billion years, without human intervention
One hundred and ninety billion years, until the cracks of society disfigured time itself.
maroon bells
JUNE' 22
24
I made it to Colorado! I’ve been looking forward to this state since the very start. After so many hours on the road, I couldn’t imagine something capturing my attention, but I was so very wrong. This small part of the state that I decided to put in my journal, Maroon Bells, captures that very magic that was present throughout this geographically surreal state. The Rocky Mountains have to be one of the most spectacular mountain ranges that I’ve seen with my own eyes, and this southern tip of that very chain enforced my opinion.
Destination home
JUNE' 22
25-26
The two-day drive from Colorado back to Pennsylvania gave me plenty of time to reflect. It was hard to believe that life can be so colorful, figuratively and literally. When I embarked on this tour, I didn’t know what to expect, but the truth is that I am mystified by this planet even more. With each step, I learned a bit more about the beautiful origin story of life. I felt the humanistic idea of an ego fade away with each stunning backdrop. The very thing that I was seeking for the whole time, was right in front of me. My life was in a natural state of balance. If life could emit a fragrance, it would be one infused with honey, caramel, vanilla. It’s said that the greatest gains and values are farthest from being appreciated. In a reflection of those words, I see the simplicity of life of happening. The farthest may sometimes be the closest. We easily overcomplicate life. We soon forget. I was experiencing the highest level of existence. All of these adventures are part of the journey. One can only look forward, towards the next horizon.
Trip Data
Days on the road: 22
Travel time: 163 Hours
Miles driven: 8200
Highest elevation: 9250
Nova Scotia
OCTOBER' 22
4-8
Recently someone asked me why I travel; I travel to be inspired and to inspire others, to learn and share knowledge, to discover and escape, to feel and experience, I travel for all of these reasons and for none of them. I travel for the same reason we breathe, it’s part of my existence. The way people romanticize falling in love, I dream of walking on barren soil and being part of that untouched environment. Observing the miracle of life. Savoring each step and leaving no traces behind.
saint martins sea cave
With temperatures in the mid-50s and the moonlit waves washing the beaches, I could rest my eyes for a good night of sleep. Tomorrow the trip continues east into the fishing village of Lunenburg and then north to catch the ferry in North Sydney.
Getting lost on the way to Three Sisters turned out to be just the break I needed from the monogamous inland roads. The drive on the beaten path felt fresh like a cold rain in early April. This small detour set the mood for the rest of the trip.
thunder cave
peggy's cove conservation
North sydney ferry
With its mouth opened like a feeding whale, the gargantuan 40,000-ton vessel swallowed each vehicle deep into its bowels. The giant diesel engines resonated through the entire ship as they propelled the floating city into the Atlantic waterway. Seven rough hours later, the ship finally made a touchdown in Channel-Port aux Basques.
Newfoundland
OCTOBER' 22
9-17
Newfoundland captured a certain forgotten theatrical language. The thick, perpetual fog pushed my sense to newfound limits. The weather was unsympathetic to my arrival, it had an agenda to follow, and I had to work around that. For a few hours, the rain attacked the car from each and every direction. The drive took what felt like an eternity, but the rainstorm had finally dispersed. I had gotten myself to a good starting point for the next leap of my adventure.
Gros Morne National Park
twillingate
Twillingate, the historic fishing village turned tourist hotspot. This small twenty one hundred people town is nestled on it’s own island off the north eastern shores. I heard stories of the solid ice statues that graciously float by from Greenland to their inevitable death in the warm inner-coastal oceans. I was geared, prepared for the worse the weather could throw at me, to hopefully witness their tragic dance. What I found here was unforeseen.
On the edge of civilization, on this snipped of detached distant land I come across a warm-hearted, vibrant, kind and hard-working woman. She was on her daily berry picking quest. The wild berries dominated the ground, covering every other foot of this isolated peninsula. The berries had a bland, modest taste. The locals used them for jam which brought out a much richer and sweeter flavor. I think that summarized this places quite well. A bitter cold, somewhat unruly place that the locals bathed in love made the best out of. (edit)
This wasn’t Milan, Paris, nor Madrid. It didn’t have cathedrals, coliseums, or leaning towers. You couldn’t grab a latte or a baguette, and there was definitely no nightlife to speak of. But there was an unmistakable clarity in the air, permeated with peacefulness and calmness.
Orchre Trail
A brief moment after the photo was taken, the drone decided it wanted to be a submarine. I grabbed it right as it fell into the stream, but it was too late, the sensitive onboard electronics had gotten wet, and it would need a few days to dry off. We will have to stick to on-ground photography for the moment.
skirwig trail
“I went to the woods because I wish to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. ”
A place to call home.
Living on the road for weeks at a time can be mentally and physically draining. The Land Cruiser has been a dream to live out off. With comfort features, I once only imagined a full kitchen with a fridge, a proper bed to accommodate my tall physique, and all the electrical power you would ever need. I don’t give this vehicle enough credit for being able to cruise on the highway for sixteen hours at a time and then turn into a luxury suite at the end of the day. I may not say it, but I appreciate Toyota making a vehicle able to conquer continents while being soft and comfortable. Tonight we celebrate to one of the greatest.
cape st. mary's ecological reserve
“Unbound, unrestrained, undeeded, unearthly, unforgettable, unreserved, unknown. Sweeping, rich, hypnotic, breathing, eternal, idyllic, limitless.”
The master stroke, the absolute ending to a perpetual journey. The pastel clouds highlighting the richness in the simplicity. Taking a moment to inhale the thick clear message. The time to live is now, life’s meaning is all but a question. A question needing no answer.
St. John's
The eastern most point of North America, St. John’s. The journey it self was truly the final destination. Once a dream, being here I felt a sweet poetic relieve. From the deep culture that blends English, Irish, French and Indigenous heritage, to the explores, forgers and legends that crossed these lands. From a sacred grounds occupied by Maritime Archaic Indians and the Palaeo-Eskimo to a powerful strategic naval outpost. The beauty in the history is deep but the operatic grandiose in the environment transcendent any human achievement. At the end nature had a firm grasp on the islands outcome. As the World War bunkers receded back into the mountains the bloodshed memories faded away. And nature could once again reclaim all that there ever was.
A sketchbook of adventures
On the drive home the memories from the trip replayed in my head like the greatest hits.
“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be happy”
Trip Data
Days on the road: 13
Travel time: 94 Hours
Miles driven: 4770
nautical miles: 195
Taiwan
“Deeply engaged in the clearness of my senses, like echos from the past reminding me of the truth. An illusion or awaken fantasy.
Humility like a great monolith keeping symmetry to life. A paradigm beckoning like an open ocean.
Singularities coming to life in the paradise of love. ”
March 1-31, 2023
How did this happen, how did I end up here, before I have a chance to answer the question I get hit with a sensory overload. My body is swept each and every way by the chaos, stumbling my way about into the unknown. The deep complex smells of the rich ethnic cuisine attack the senses. The perfume of the perfectly blended broth of the Taiwanese beef noodle soup, the sweet heavenly aroma of deep friend taro balls, the sharp overwhelm undeniable stanch of stinky tofu. A brief pause at the street side temple to cleanse once senses. The calming aromatic fragrance of the incense quickly takes over the mood. As instantly as you are grounded by the mystic of the rituals you are spit out into the reality. This becomes a game of arbitration, my thoughts on the front lines, battling the contrasting voices brought by the environment.
The densely packed city streets littered with vendors, pedestrians, mopeds and cars, in a ceremonious choreographed dance. The city comes to life at night with infinite experiences to be had. A multi-faceted treasure that will call you back, again and again. Like the movements in “The Four Seasons” by Antonio Vivaldi each part of Taiwan’s culture can stand on it’s own.
The unmistakable cityscape of Taipei. Veiled temples and brilliant neon signs blending seamlessly in a decidedly more modern era. The mix of contemporary and traditional, under the contrasting voice of the cultural kaleidoscope. Dozens of worlds coming to life in a utopian democratic state. Taiwan riding on the waves of the future, past, and presence.
New places, new experiences, new opportunities, new paying an homage to exclusivity. At the same time there is so much of the familiar here. Reminiscent of my own childhood my roots, my morals and etiquettes. This place is firmly positions on the intersection (crossroads) of _______
Tales of Heart
People often associate Taiwan with the birth place of bubble tea and cat cafés. Maybe the capital of oolong tea, or a world leader in semi conductors. It’s solidified itself as the freest country in Asia, including legalizing same-sex marriage in 2019. But the waters weren’t always so smooth in the Taiwan Strait, much of this country as we know it has come to be in the last 35 years. Through the millennium they experienced economic competition and military conflict with a series of colonizing newcomers.
Prehistory
The aboriginal people first settle on the island around 3500BC. Around 10,000 BC sea levels rose as the ice age ended. The land bridge between Taiwan and Asia continental become submerged forming the Taiwan Strait. The resulting isolation from the newly formed island allowed indigenous cultures to develop independently from continental influence.
16th Century
In 1517 a Portuguese ship sailed through the Taiwan Strait, and the ship’s log recorded the words “Ilha Formosa,” meaning “Beautiful Island” in Portuguese. Formosa subsequently became the Western term for Taiwan. But the ship did not stop, and the Portuguese did not lay claim to Taiwan. First a Spanish colony, the island went through a lot of term oil.
17th Century
Dutch colonization began with the occupation of modern-day Tainan City. The dutch later expelled the Spanish forces with the help of Chinese inhabitants. In 1662 the island was finally liberated from western colony by Zheng Cheng a Japanese born pirate leader who led a Chinese army. For the next two decades the country was part of the Fujian province of china.
18th Century
This period was characterized by frequent rebellions followed by severe punishments meted out by the government to keep order. There were major rebellions in 1721, 1732 and 1786.
19th Century
Taiwan was made a full province of Qing Empire. Later in 1895 Taiwan become part of the Japanese empire after the First Sino-Japanese War between the ascendant empire of Japan and the declining Qing Empire of China.
20th Century
Japanese rule ends in 1945 after ww2. Taiwan become part of Republic of China 1945 and in 1949, after the Chinese Civil War, the ROC government under the KMT withdrew to Taiwan. The two party system with the majority with closer ties to Beijing was formed. The first-ever direct presidential election was held in 1996. During the post-war period, Taiwan experienced rapid Industrialization and economic growth know as the “Taiwan Miracle”, and was known as one of the “Four Asian Tigers. Alongside Hong Kong, Singapore and South Korea, Taiwan has a well deserved spot in the global consumer economy.
21st Century
There is many stories of leaders like Chiang Kai-Shek who tried to liberate Taiwan and put it back on the democratic track. Along those people there are were many who never got recognized and even more who’s lives were lost to the cause. In march 2000 Chen-Shui-Bian of the opposition party won the presidential election. This was the final step in Taiwans process towards democratizing. 2016 Tsai Ing-wen wins to become the first female president and with a clear agenda into effect and changes to Taiwan’s political landscape.
However that hardly tells the story of Taiwan, there is so much more here to discover. It would be difficult maybe impossible to describe the shade of blue that the sky holds within, to visualize the beauty of the landscape as the roads drape over the mountains, to imagine the sunset’s glow over the mountainous horizon in the lazy march afternoon. It’s easy from afar to think that perfection exists that very idea that distorts our view of reality. Taiwan isn’t perfect but everywhere you look you can see good defeating evil. Like the olden myths that carry with each generation the principles of life’s virtues are imbedded deep in the imprint that lies on this island.
Tales of nirvana
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Tales of Tenacity
Yushan National Park spans an area of 100,000 hectares two-thirds of which is above 2000 meters. Jade Mountain, it’s highest peak in the range and the fourth highest mountain on an Island sits proud at 12,967ft. The name derives from its appearance in the winter, when its thick snow cover is thought to make its peak look like stainless jade.
The anticipation for this trip had kept me awake through the night. The day started with a bus ride at 1:30 in the morning. By daybreak we had arrived at the trailhead. The trail was something of a spectacle. It hugged the side of a near (sheer)-(faced) mountains and rocky facades. The immense man power and devotion throughout the years to build the trail completely puzzled me. By midday we arrived at the Paiyun Lodge which sits at 11,161ft, our home for tonight. It was a good place to acclimatize and catch on a much needed rest.
With little sleep between the deafening snoring the hours ticked by and soon the chatter of the metallic climbing gear began. It was around 2am when our day started. If we were to catch sunrise we had to be efficient as the 1.5 mile ascent was treacherous in the inky melancholy of the night. And still a sense of anticipation hung in the darkness around us. A few groups drifted passed us, disappearing into the night. (EDIT)
This was not the typical weather for this time of the year. The chilling air cut through the layers of clothing. The unexpected drop in temperature left everyone scrambling for extra warmth, their breath turning to mist in the icy atmosphere. The opaque fog descended, cloaking everyone and their foot steps.
As we continue to steadily climb the murk become impassible. The groups that had left earlier were now stopped in their tracks. With equal parts braveness and foolishness we push through the marshmallow of blackness. Visibility was non-existent. The world had collapsed on top of us. Scree slopes looked down unsympathetic. The guide chains along the cliff side stole all remaining warmth from my hands. With inept fingers and no dexterity left I had to pause and heat my hands while resting against the jagged rocks.
The clouds before us broke into a moment of silence, we had summited before dawn and before anyone else. The world below lay shrouded in darkness as we stood on the peak, feeling a sense of accomplishment and peace. 12,966 ft of grandiose starring back into my soul, asking me to reflect. Embracing the lessons learned from yesterday, living fully in the now, and looking ahead with hope.
Tales of closure
I’ve been yearning to capture a new form for self expression through the camera lens. This was my rendition of chaos, the essence and currency of the universe. In these snapshot, the interplay of color and shape painted a serene picture that inviting contemplation and reflection on the interconnectedness of all things.
A sketchbook of color
Trip Data
Happy People met: countless
Stunky tofu eaten:0
Miles driven: 2236
highest elevation : 12,966
Shades of white
