Caffeinated Day 1

Seattle.

Day one.

I am starting my northwest bike job adventure at a coffee shop. Verite Cupcake Shop in Ballard in Seattle. I say this only because the ceramic cups, the cool air (in comparison to the steamy heat of DC), the hip coffee shop women with pink bangs cut into the shape of V on their forehead, the dads walking around with babies in backpacks, the dogs sitting underneath tables, the boutique hip-semi-orthopedic shoes, the Kavu shop, the Indian flute music and the bicycles that are everywhere is everything that the northwest is to me right now. Ask me again in a month. I’m curious what I would add or delete from that list. This list is part of the illusion tied into my job hunt since for me it has always been about the big picture of place, job and life versus the particulars of employment, simple.

I’ve decided I need some litmus, some way to measure this trip.

It seems worth it, however, to try to look past the superficial statistics like the ratio of locally owned coffee shops to Starbucks in a radius around an intersection, the number of micro-brew beers on tap per capita, the variations of definition of “northwest hippy” given to me (not because I asked but willingly offered up by numerous “indigenous” Northwesterners when trying to describe their homeland). I should stick to quantifiable, empirical data like my carbon footprint, the number of firms I visit or the number of miles traveled on a pie chart sorted by mode of transportation. Yet when all these factors are listed, it seems like none of the information is really irrelevant. Since I am looking for the entire package, every bit of this information is critical. In fact, it’s like a landscape analysis, charting drainage patterns, eco-tones and transit stops to determine “quality of life”. And the recipes can be quite different. Would I take a job in Washington because the opportunity to work on frequent international assignments and being close(r) to my family would heavily factor into the reality that I would have to plan ‘mountains’ into the weekend, not into my afternoon. Or consider working in Seattle where bankers bike commute, my ‘fancy fleece’ and flip flops count as dressing up and the flight attendant on the way here recounted her last hike up Mt. Ranier with the fact that I’m just as far from my east coast family as I was in Switzerland, and diversity thus far (and I realize this is day one, in a hip Seattle neighborhood) extends to Chaco color scheme. But, well, gosh… this is a useful exercise since I am having a hard time coming up with other low-weighted reasons in this city at the moment. It’s no new discovery that Seattle is a pretty awesome spot!

If coffee shop radii is just as important as 401k, here is what I’ve come up with:

Friends visited

Coffee shop camped in for computer sessions (name, music played, coffee consumed)

Miles by bike/bus/train/car

Head laid in/on couch/tent/floor/bed

Firm meetings

- 3 adjectives used to describe the ‘state of the profession’ (by interviewer)

- 3 adjectives used to describe the work they are doing currently (by interviewer)

Firms that ignored me

Flat tires

Bike mates

I’d love suggestions for this list. Critique away!

On the Road Again - trawling for jobs and enjoying it along the way

"Just can't wait to get on the road again
The life I love is making music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again"

After a bit of a hiatus as a nomad (‘nomad’ defined as someone who moves around frequently, and by ‘frequently’, I mean spending less than a month in each location) I am back at it. I had a Fulbright for ten months and a six month contract in Switzerland. It was a good chunk of work and I am grateful for it. Now I find myself again in these revolutions of career building which is not to say that I am climbing up any ladders, just cycling in and out of experiences which, I argue, or at least tell myself, makes me a diverse and flexible candidate in this business.

What business am I in, remind me? Landscape architect. Planner. Urban Designer. Throw in manger, writer, editor, translator, babysitter, dry wall specialist.

But I’m getting a bit fed up. It’s a general feeling of frustration that stems from this jump I took into a field with both feet, feeling passionate and creative about it throughout school, and now empathetic to the employers (we are all in the same boat). Yet I'm curious how we can use our creativity to try to deal with our collective professional sluggishness. My cohort, an imaginative bunch, have splintered into every direction. They are starting their own businesses, working at bike shops, paying their dues as CAD bunnies, doing wedding floral design and essentially doing what they can do to keep an inspired foot in some sort of door, hold their head above water and wait out the storm (to sling a few metaphors around).

So I’ve decided to bike. I always found myself most creative when I was moving, getting my heart beating. Those 4pm runs through Sam Hughes neighborhood in grad school, when my creative juices had been squeezed out of me, got me going again. Well, I feel a bit dry right now. Biking, then, seems like a very normal reaction to my unemployment situation. I have no income. I can’t pay for buses or trains or planes. So I will bike from Vancouver to Eugene, Oregon, in search of a job. It’s my own holy search for employment (among other things, perhaps), not via donkey but by bicycle.

I start next Saturday. Holy smokes. Next Saturday. This prompted a trip to REI last night to figure out how one actually does bike a couple hundred miles. It seems simple enough of an endeavor. I’ve biked long distances before. Once. In Peace Corps my friends Lindy, Drew and I decided we were going to bike from Dori, Burkina Faso to Niamey, Niger (about 300 km) over four days. It took us six. Despite running out of water, losing the road to sand, patching over 20 flat tires, following donkey paths and camels, we survived. A simple paved road down the northwest coast shouldn’t be all that hard, it seems.

Oh, no. It is. Worth it, but not easy. Not in the mind of a) major retailers or b) dedicated bike touring folks. I engaged a dedicated bike touring REI salesman yesterday evening. And really, it was very helpful although I have to edit out pieces he considers ‘essential’. Did you know an indispensable piece of equipment for bike touring is a mirror that clips onto your sunglasses so you never have to turn your head? I am sure I will now get struck to the ground by a driver who I can not see but it seems extraneous (and, well, nerdy). But what do I know? I haven’t marked it off my “kit of parts” just yet. But I did buy padded underpants (which also look silly but deemed necessary), a pair of socks, and the rest I will buy when I get there. I have a plan. The plan is not to have a plan.

This “plan” also holds true for my attempt to get a job. I made a hip concert poster style “advertisement” for this bike trip. I sent out multiple cover letters and emails of inquiry. I got back a couple of “sure, common’s but we have no work for you” and many instances of simply being ignored, but I am still doing this. The extent of my plan is to find a community biking organization in Vancouver and ask “where shall I start” and go from there. I plan to show up at interesting landscape architecture and planning offices and ask if I can come in, lean my bike up against a wall and talk to someone.

And between those awkward meetings, spend a great deal of time getting to see the southwestern tip of Canada and the northwest coast of the US by bike, visit with friends, enjoy myself and hopefully stay invigorated for another round of job searching (and soul searching) in the “worst economy since the Great Depression”. So now I’ve said it once, and I promise never to say it again or only to elude to it. This is only partly about jobs and the economy – I will leave the majority of the commentary on that to the New York Times. It’s about: Vancouver, Seattle, Portland, Corvalis, Eugene and everywhere in-between.

And my hosts: Tim, Edward, Brita, Katie, Anna, Tex, Jamie, Vince, James, Alison, Eleanor, Sam and Lisa.

“Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway
…
Insisting that the world keep turning our way and our way”