Colorado is on Fire: Aspens in Aspen

Few shots from this past weekend in Aspen, Colorado. True to it’s name, the town was awash in color as thousands of Aspens lit up the towering hillsides.

The Road Ahead

Starting a journey may require taking a step, but it also includes looking up and enjoying the view.

Picture is from this Friday night as I drove out to Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

Random thoughts while driving through Kansas

• Birds in Kansas are fing crazy. Like they can really fly 75 mph? Nuts…
• Only two billboards have lights: Jesus and Adult Book Store
• 70 mph speed limits suck
• Colby, Kansas is either 41 or 40 or 38 miles from the first cluster of billboards
• Apparently Nebraska’s number one tourist attraction is Pioneer Days. The billboard however is missing a few things, like when and where the place actually is.
• Just before entering Kansas you pass “Now leaving beautiful Colorado” and what is Kansas’s response? “Welcome to Kansas the wheat state.” Now that’s selling me…
• Gorillas can be found at the Oasis Flying J. Actually for that matter, so can Starbucks, cheap greasy food, and palm trees.
• Whatever you do, don’t miss the world’s biggest prairie dog! It’s right next to the live five-legged cow.
• Worried about missing the dog and cow? Don’t, eight billboards point the way.
• Look south at mile 173. See the blue Walker shed? I bet the red truck is still parked there….
• Apparently Kansas is home to the 2^nd friendliest yarn store in the universe. Still looking for #1 and wondering why they just don’t decide to take the title.
• Flying J atms suck. $3.75 to take out $20
• Hay’s History Museum slogan: “Where history comes to life,” seriously wondering if this is EVERY history museum’s slogan.
• Rush Limbaugh is on FM radio. Apparently Obama is responsible for unconstitutionally closing down Chrysler plants and giving Rush enough to talk about for decades.
• During May the grass is green and when the sky is dark the prairie comes alive with color.
• I’ll be making this drive a lot so might as well get used to it…

Four States, Two Interstates, 783 Miles, And One Really Pissed Off Bush Supporter

Did something I haven’t done for a few months now and got in my car for a daylong drive across the Western United States. As usual my mind was spinning and I kept a notebook within reach for recording those precious thoughts. They are below.

·      NPR apparently is only interested in reporting the apocalypse.  Four hours of programming I learn: The world is ending. (new movie coming out) The economy sucks (obvious news story of the day) GM is going to go down (bailout going to shit) Drug users are using again (according to the economy going down) and couples are having trouble divorcing due to financial difficulties. The only story I didn’t hear? The one in which NPR lays off 68 folks and cancels two shows.

·      Overheard at a truck stop somewhere on I-15: “F*ck Obama! Like he is really going to change things! Personally I voted again for Bush.”

·      Seen on a bathroom stall: Fox News is the only credible network on TV today. Seen on the same stall: Bush is gay. Seen below Bush is gay: Bush is not happy! (priceless)

·      Driving through Arizona at night with a full moon is like exploring Earth’s shoulders rippling with muscles hidden by dark shadows.

·      Gas for $1.56 is only expensive when you paid $1.34 300 miles earlier.

·      God I really missed doing this.

If you could drop everything what would you do? — My challenge to you

Answer this: If you could drop everything, without consequence, and follow one dream, what would it be?

Now think about what is stopping you? The barriers that immediately shut down your idealism. Are they able to be breached? Are they materialistic? Are they family based? Are they rooted in fear?

My dream?

The Six Degrees of Separation Project

The Mission: America needs to remember its beauty – The idealism that has captivated millions to risk death just for a chance to succeed. To jump borders. Leave family. Drive a taxi by day, go to school at night. America needs to hear the stories of idealism beyond Disneyesque packaged prime time. The need to see the faces of struggling entrepreneurs. Stay-at-home mothers. Hourly wageworkers. Wall Street wonders. The project will link together, using the philosophy of six degrees of separation, the everyday fabric of our lives.

Execution: I would start out with one person, and listen to their story. That one person would then be responsible for introducing me to the next individual. I would then listen, learn, and document their story. The individual would then be responsible for introducing the next person. The catch, however, is the person cannot introduce me to a person the previous person knows. I also will need to spend at least one night with the selected individual, so I can accurately portray a sliver of their life.

Deliverables: By meshing my love for storytelling with technology, I will produce a variety of multimedia components: video, written word, photography, podcasting, GPS oriented content to name just a few. The project would be available via a website, and social networking tools.

The Crux: Before embarking I would compile a bucket list of goals: be a guest on the Tonight Show, run a marathon in a major city, help a kid learn how to throw a baseball, learn how to sail, and have dinner with the President. That I wish to complete during the trip.

Barriers: Capital. That’s it.

My Challenge to You: If you feel as though reaching your goal is out of reach, help me reach mine. I will make a promise to fulfill on this. All I need is a little help. This does not necessarily mean just cash, though that will put some gas in my tank. A simple introduction may be more than enough.

What would this take? Honestly, I’m not sure. Startup costs would be roughly 5K to get the appropriate equipment and website built. Then it’s a matter of gas, food, and enough cash so when I stay with a stranger I can cook them dinner, or take their kids out for ice cream. Ideally I would start in Colorado, and work east.

It is also important to note that I am not just asking for a handout to travel without risk to myself. I am willing to put my own capital behind this journey, as well as my personal name and time. Several people noted that “this seems a little strange,” and “I’m not sure what my first impressions are,” which is more than reasonable. I will work on answering these questions in a more detailed post shortly, but for now I wanted to just put the idea out there.

Think you can help? Let me know. If I can raise 20k I will hit the road and follow a life-long dream, which will hopefully change one persons life for the better.

Note: 20K is also equal to 200 folks taking a $100 chance. Broken up, anything is possible.

Please feel free to circulate this post to whomever you like.

If you don’t know me and would like to talk, please feel free to give me a ring at 303.406.1876 or email me directly at timshisler (at) gmail (.com) – I will be more than willing to answer any of your questions.

Think you’re in Shape? Move to Boulder, and then kill yourself

Overheard while working out at the YMCA.

Ridiculously ripped dude one: “Hey man do you cyclocross?”

Equally Ripped dude two: “No, just ice climb and ski. Going to Jackson this weekend and Aspen in two weeks.”

“Sweet! But you really should try it. Once the road season ends it ‘s a great way to stay in shape. I just did a sick race in Estes Park.”

“Yea? Hard?”

“You know, typical. 30 miles, snow, same old shit.”

“Well I do need a new bike. Maybe I’ll pick one up. BTW, ever want to ride across Colorado?”

“Did last year, it was too easy.”

When I moved to Boulder I was out of shape. Two months on the road had broken me down. I’d run a marathon, competed in a few triathlons and climbed some 14,000 ft. peaks, but besides that the summer had been fairly uneventful.

Back home (Santa Cruz California,) I was the active one among most of my friends. Saturday mornings would be filled with 40-mile rides, 15-mile runs and marathon lap swims.

I would hit the gym at lunch, climb sporadically and hike twice a month.

And then I moved to Boulder.

The town where if you can’t ride a century, run a marathon and bust out a pitch on a gruesome 5.12 all in the same day, you’re mediocre. Worthless. Pathetic. Plane out of shape.

“Just remember,” several people told me when I first arrived. “There is always someone faster, better and more ballsy out there than you. Once you know that, you will be fine.”

I believed them, but it didn’t sink in at first.

My first two months were a blast. Twenty five thousand feet of elevation gain, over 100 miles hiked, a few hundred miles run and even two climbing sessions. I drank beer, lost weight, ate healthier than ever and found myself happier than I’d been in several years.

But as the newness wears off and I begin to become more of a resident in Boulder, the reality is sinking in.

“What are you doing this weekend?” I might ask a coworker.

“Oh you know, same old stuff. Climb a mountain early Saturday, then attend Dave Matthews before heading out to a friends hut trip which I’ll have to ski into at night. Then Sunday ski back, bang out a freelance piece and relax.”

Damn. And I thought hiking 10 miles was cool.

A hot night in Chicago

It was hot, just under 100 degrees when I was there, and local kids were playing in one of the many parks around the city.  I grabbed my camera and secured the following shots.    

Paying for an Internship — Why one magazine’s charity is pushing young journalists apart

It is so competitive for an Internship today, the free labor that most of America’s media giants rely on, that people are actually paying to get in. Harper’s Bazaar is offering a one-month internship with them as part of Bette Midler’s New York Restoration Project’s Hulaween Auction. The magazine, one of the largest fashion rags on the market, is donating the Internship in the name of charity.

Myself, a struggling 25-year-old Intern, can’t believe his eyes. Internships are part of the professional fabric when it comes to piecing together a successful career in today’s media. Editors talk greatly about the need to understand the pain of relentless fact checking, getting coffee, stuffing media packets and working with little to no pay. It’s a right of passage almost every successful editor has been though, and many point to it as the reason they are successful. But it’s changing. So fast actually, that it has become a class war, where the poor are left helpless, scratching for clips and the opportunity to succeed, while the rich roll in, designer sleeves up and drink copious amounts of beer at happy hour after turning off their computer.

Just about four months ago I was rejected for Outside Magazines Internship. I was willing to leave a well paying job, pack up my life and move four states away to make $8.15 an hour. The research editor told me I didn’t have enough experience in my resume and therefore would not work.

I stood there, phone in hand, mouth open, ready to scream. “What do you want me to do!” I wanted to yell. “I am on my own financially, have been reduced to working to live at a young age when some of my competition is benefiting from daddy and mommy. Here I am willing to sacrifice just about every materialistic item I have to fact check for you and eat pasta every night!” I was distraught, upset, livid and more determined than ever.

Four weeks ago while sitting in a turnout somewhere outside of Chicago, I had my first and only Interview with Backpacker magazine. I remember praying before hand asking God to guide me in the right direction. I was edgy inside, unsettled and anxious. This was my chance to show them that even though I don’t have a masters degree, clips from the AP while working in France, or a high-level contact inside their magazine, that I was qualified for the position.

I don’t exactly remember the interview, but what I do remember is that the words seemed to come to me effortlessly. When asked delicate complex questions, I provided short concise answers that proved I had done my homework and understood the industry. When it was over I felt relieved, almost sure that I was at least in the running. That night I ended my month-long journey drinking beer with a very wise man who opened up my eyes by being vulnerable in wisdom.

“Find out what you can provide,” he said, “and hone that skill. You may be able to write well, but is it writing that you enjoy? Or storytelling? So many people try to do it all themselves, but what you don’t know, is that you may meet someone that can take your skill and bring it to the masses. When you find your skill, work on the vehicles to get it out there, but until then, work hard, work smart and always push yourself.”

Our conversation lasted over three hours, and it changed my life. At the end we discussed the Internship with Backpacker. We talked about the pros, the cons and the advantages to ending my trip early and pursuing my dream. It was clear by the end of the night that given the chance I would drive west the next day and find a place to live in Boulder, Colorado.

The past three weeks have been a blur. The past two have found my immersed in Backpacker’s office, wide-eyed and grinning from ear to ear. But regardless of how well I do, how much impact I make, there is still the great possibility of being laid off in six months when my Internship ends and going back to unemployment. It’s that uncertainty, that level of vulnerability that seems to set the dedicated apart from the wishy-washy. Unless of course you are able to pay the bills without a paycheck, then it would just be another adventure.

“I don’t have a problem being the 31-year-old Intern,” a fellow Intern at Backpacker said yesterday on the drive home. “It’s what you have to do,” she added. I nodded my head in agreement. She was dead on.

It makes me wonder if whoever bids the most for Harper’s Bazaar really wants to be there as much as the washed-up hardworking American girl waiting tables and stringing for a small daily to build clips. I know it’s not a fair world out there, but paying to participate in an Internship? Have we gone too far? It’s almost like paying for people to vouch that you worked for them on your resume, and last time I checked that took money, not skill.

Life in FF

Life is now in fast-forward. It is a new job, new town, new gym, new people, new bars, frantically trying to figure out how to pay the bills and now wrapped up in the World Series.

In the last 24 hours I’ve driven though Illinois, Missouri, Kansas and the most boring part of Colorado, only to find place to live, decide not to buy a plane ticket back home, and begin looking for a used bed, desk, lamp and chair on Craigslist.

And then everything changed.

Within two hours from finding what I thought was the perfect place, I’d signed a lease for a 2-year-old fully furnished condo with a roommate who may be heading to London for a few months leaving me the place while he’s gone. The deal, 500 a month including utilities, means a queen size bed, dresser, 42 inch plasma, high-def, storage, quick access to work, and for icing on the cake, St. Peter and Paul Orthodox church three blocks down the road.

Seriously folks, I can’t make this stuff up.

Now a bit about the job.

I’ll be working for Backpacker Magazine as an Intern in their map department. I didn’t sign an NDA during my interview and don’t know their policy on blogging, so I’m going to stay vague at this point. What I can say is that I will get the opportunity to work for a magazine that is at the collision of traditional media and new media. If I’m lucky I’ll be able to listen to weathered editors and journalists debate the merits of video, blogging and podcasting in a real-world non-academic setting where the bottom line is what matters, and not a fabricated grade.

For a young professional with a passion for the outdoors and a knack for tech, the opportunity is ideal.

Now the hard part.

Since I’m an Intern I’m taking a pay cut. One of my old friends in PR just informed me that her daughter’s boyfriend, who is 19 and degreeless, is making more than me at Starbucks. My own brother working for a computer repair guy is passing me up as well. But regardless of the pay this is what I wanted to do all along, and as one very wise man told me a few weeks back, “We create roadblocks that are based on fear and insecurity. Money is one of those roadblocks. There is reality—a house, food, clothes, and then there is roadblocks—plasma TV’s, cell phones, beer. You [speaking about me] sound like you are putting up roadblocks.”

Like it or not he was right.

So I’m going to take a leap of faith and hold my breath. It might mean a second job like a stint at bartending, or back to the bright lights of Best Buy on the weekends. (God I hope not) But regardless, I’m going to have to make sacrifices that I haven’t been forced to make since college, and I’m excited about holding my destiny in my own hands. In the next six months I hope to learn, listen, produce and become a valuable member of the Backpacker team.

Hold your breath folks, I’m sure this is going to be quite the wild ride, and mom if you’re reading this, please just send money, it’s easier if you just send it and I don’t have to ask every month. Thanks!

Goodbye Road…Hello Boulder

All good things must come to an end…and new doors must open. (Sounds cliché I know, but figured it was a good way to say I landed a job)

I’ll leave the long winded post till tomorrow when I don’t have to drive 13 hours to Boulder, but until then I can say I’ll be working as an intern for Backpacker Magazine for the next six months. The money isn’t amazing, and my friends in PR will be laughing, but it’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and if I can’t live in Santa Cruz, Boulder is the next logical choice.

Lets just hope the Rockies go to the series so I can be a bandwagon fan.

Hope you all are well and I’ll write more soon.

Tim