Urban exploration

When chatting with Dan at happy hour the other day, our conversation turned, as it often does, to traveling and exploration.  He turned me on to this blog, a remarkable collection of photos and stories documenting adventurous people exploring abandoned, private, or otherwise inaccessible historic places around the world. 

The specific post that he was telling me about concerned the London Post Office Railway - a now sealed-off system of subway stations and tunnels once used to shuttle mail around the city.  It reminded me of a story I once read about an abandoned, pre-Metro subway system in DC, though I couldn't recall the details.

A little googling led first to this Washington Post story about the Mole Way, which turned out to be an old April Fool's joke (a fact I did not come to understand until I was almost ready to drop everything at work and go hunting for abandoned stations this afternoon).  But, eventually, I came across this series of photos posted in a forum about an old station and series of trolley tunnels beneath Dupont Circle.  This is what I was looking for, though it is significantly less extensive and cool than its British counterpart.  Apparently some investors tried unsuccessfully to turn it into a food court in the 90's and now a group wants to convert the space to an art gallery.

The concept of urban exploration has always fascinated me.  A city, with its landmarks and grid of streets and richly documented history, presents an accessible canvas on which to compare the past to the present.  Roaming around DC with a camera (and some snacks) has always been one of my favorite weekend pastimes.  Discovering a blog like Silent UK appeals to this same intrepid part of my personality - with much less walking, to boot.

Begin the hours of this day slow

October dawns and the days grow heartbreakingly beautiful.  Fall is my favorite season for reasons as varied as crisp weather, holidays, and Terps sports.

As the leaves turn crunchy and colorful, I think often of my last encounter with fall - during an Argentine April.  I can't help but feel a tinge of melancholy when I ponder the peace and simplicity of my time in Argentina, compared with my life now.  Not that my life is at all bad, but when held against a perfect two weeks whose most pressing worries were "Which delicious steak should I eat tonight" or "Should we nap in the plaza before or after getting gelato," it's not hard to seem dreary by comparison.

Which brings me to this poem, "October," by Robert Frost.  I am not much for analyzing poetry, so I don't actually have a clue what Frost's intent was in writing this.  But, like the onset of my favorite season, it makes me feel cheery, with just a hint of reflective sadness.  And helps me to put health issues, mortgage payments, and life's assorted other complications back into perspective.  Where they belong.

October, by Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,

Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;

Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,

Should waste them all.

The crows above the forest call;

Tomorrow they may form and go.

O hushed October morning mild,

Begin the hours of this day slow.

Make the day seem to us less brief.

Hearts not averse to being beguiled,

Beguile us in the way you know.

Release one leaf at break of day;

At noon release another leaf;

One from our trees, one far away.

Retard the sun with gentle mist;

Enchant the land with amethyst.

Slow, slow!

For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,

Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,

Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—

For the grapes’ sake along the wall.

Dried beans and crusty bread

Soup is one of my favorite cold weather meals to cook for a couple of reasons.  It is warm & hearty, relatively easy, and takes many delicious forms.  Even better, it provides a perfect excuse for buying another of my (non-seasonally dependent) favorite things: a fresh, crusty loaf of bread.

I made a simple white bean soup on Sunday afternoon.  For some odd reason, I've always been intimidated by dried beans, but I have been experimenting with them lately and haven't ruined anything yet.  I just wish they didn't take so long to cook.  This recipe could probably use some refinement (or maybe the hint of another herb - thyme? rosemary?), but it was pretty tasty as is.  Here is what I think I did.

White Bean Soup with Pancetta & Kale

1. Soak 1 lb. dried white beans (such as canellini) overnight in cold water or for at least an hour using this method: place in pot and cover by a couple of inches with water.  Bring to a rolling boil and let cook for a few minutes.  Turn off heat and cover pot with a lid.  Let sit.  In either method, drain the water before using the beans.
   
2. Saute some diced pancetta or Canadian bacon or ham in a soup pot until starting to brown.  Remove and set aside.  Deglaze the pot with a little water if there is a brown goodness building up on the bottom.
   
3. Add two onions, chopped, two-ish carrots, diced, and several cloves of garlic, minced, to the pot with a little olive oil and cook until soft.
   
4. Throw into the pot: the soaked beans, the pancetta, two bay leaves, a parmesan cheese rind, if you happen to have it, and enough water to comfortably cover it all.  You could also use stock in place of the water, though I have been trying to avoid the store-bought ones lately because they are so salty and you will be simmering for long enough to create your own flavorful broth from scratch.
   
5. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat to simmer gently.  Cook until the beans are as tender as you like.
   
6. At some point, season with some salt and pepper, to taste.
   
7. When the beans are just about done, add a bunch of kale (or spinach or arugula), chopped, and cook until it is wilted, approximately five minutes.
   
8. Fish out the bay leaves and cheese rind and serve.

A hot air balloon on a tether

Last Friday, for the second time in my life (the first being spring break of my senior year of college), I had to scrape snow off of my car before hopping in and heading for the beach.  The reason for this wintry trip to Rehoboth: a weekend-long retreat for the Volunteer Corps program that I help to coordinate through church.

There is something inherently compelling about being in a vacation town during the off season.  Quiet, uncluttered streets and open stretches of beach lend themselves to getting lost in thought.  True local businesses hum reliably along like beacons in stalwart relief to the blocks full of shuttered boardwalk kiosks and tourist traps.  The only other group of any size I saw was there for the annual Polar Bear Plunge, which happened to coincide with our visit.

It was against this backdrop that we gathered for a weekend of camaraderie and conversation.  The volunteers (five recent college graduates that the church houses for a year and sets up with assorted non-profit agencies in DC) developed an agenda around the theme of shared wisdom and life lessons for twenty-somethings.  Through this framework, we discussed accomplishments, regrets, and the milestones and decisions that have shaped our lives.

Aside from the chance to spend time with a fun group of people (I learned a new game, called Fishbowl, and got to play Mafia for the first time since college!), what I appreciated most about the weekend was the chance for meaningful reflection.  Occasional windbagging sessions with Maggie aside, I rarely take the time to ponder some of the big-picture issues and decisions that impact my life in such a thoughtful way, let alone benefit from the perspectives of others.  Often, when I think about these things, it is by way of worrying.  Stepping back a little was refreshing.

Some of the other things that will stick with me:

When describing his natural inclination to be adventurous and see the world, one person compared his mom and dad's parenting style to a hot air balloon on a tether.  They gave him the space to explore and grow, but helped to keep him grounded and tied to home and family.  For whatever reason, I thought that was enormously profound, particularly as he noted how he struggles to strike the same balance with his own kids.

In a room full of Ph.Ds, fellows at major think tanks, and assorted other decorated big-wigs, many people turned first to relationships with family and friends when discussing their proudest accomplishments.

Spirituality is defined differently by many people, but is, at root, tied to personal growth.

All in all a great weekend.  I've struggled quite a bit with how church fits in my life over the past few years, but this retreat, as a manifestation of the sense of grounding and support that I value and a jumping off point for thoughtful reflection, was pretty close to perfect.