Vancouver is just as magical as we suspected it would be. We are picking blackberries everywhere we go! The streets are covered with them!

We visited Goonies, the art space run by Merida Anderson on Hastings Ave. The space is a spacious storefront, and is garnering a lot of attention for being one of the first of its kind to move into this extremely drugged-out district. When we arrived for her open weaving session, there was a very eclectic cast of characters giving the loom a go. There are (clean) needles and saline solution stuck in there as well. We took a bike ride the next day to find some Vancouver detritus to weave in. We found some rusty metal shapes on the street and pulled up some weeds which we incorporated.Adam stuck them on the back of his bike to get them over to the gallery.

For our last day we went went hiking in Lynn Canyon, which is just half an hour from the city. We packed lightly and set out on the trail. We camped illicitly in the park, just up on a ridge from the river bank. All went well until the next morning when the rain came pouring down. This was probably the hardest rain I have ever been exposed to, and the least prepared I have ever been for weather. We raced out of the park as fast as we could, sopping sopping wet. Adam ran ahead to get the car, which was conveniently dead. Thank God for Canada and their helpful ways, because a ranger helped us out and got us on our way in no time.

The Portland Loom was a big success with hundreds of people coming into the space over the course of the evening. Katherine Ball, the director of SEA Change Gallery did a terrific job of setting it up.

Unfortunately, my bike was stolen from outside the space, which was a huge bummer and left a bitter taste in our mouths as we left Portland.

A few days in Seattle staying with the illustrous, Mike Wilkes. We experienced the Slow Food movement of the northwest, by taking two and a half hours to get out dinner ready. We set-off to industrial area of the city to attend a Tall Bike Anarchist Rally. Lots of facial tattoos, girls with striped knee-socks and platform boots and some crazy bicycles. The next day we set out to visit Cairo, the gallery that will be taking on the “A Room-A Loom” in Sept/Oct. Justine and Joel who run the place were wonderful. We even decided to design a “A Loom-A Room” t-shirt to accompany the show. Justine read my astrological chart and blew my mind.

We dropped in on my long-lost 2nd cousin, Reggie, for her garden tango concert. She had a table set-up with homemade baked goods for sale, and I felt a familial connection instantly.

The next day, we picked up a sweet new single-speed bike to replace my stolen wheels and headed to the Seattle Farmer’s Market. The most gorgeous (and most expensive) market I ever been to! They were passing out hand-fulls of fresh smoked salmon.

It was time to leave so we headed out to find a campsite further north. On the road again.

A logical and convenient stop between San Fransisco and Portland is Humboldt county.  Some of you might associate Humbodlt with giant Redwoods, the charming Victorian village of Ferndale, or even the gold-mining town of Eureka. These are all interesting characteristics of the region, but our experience of the place was filtered through the lens of Humbodlt’s massive (yet appropriately mellow) marijuana industry. We came through the town of Arcata, and contacted one of Adam’s high-school friends. Lets call him “Landon.”  Now Landon is not uptight about this whole thing, and encouraged me to photograph the operation, but for the sake of my own paranoia, I will keep his identitiy concealed.

Landon gave me a new lease on the classic stoner movie/television character. He has friends with dread-filled knit caps, dripping with Rasta/Weed paraphinalia, who sit on his overstuffed velour couch and gaze blankly at surf videos for hours on end. There was the classic stoner chick, long blond hair, belly hanging out of her midriff top, mangy dog in tow, just soaking up the sun in the backyard.  He has a book in his bathroom entitled, “Naked Chicks and Weed,” whose content happily fufills the promise of the title. Landon loves to imagine (aloud) the surf of far-off locations, ranigng from Southern California to Indonesia. He regales us with stories of festivals and tripping on mushrooms, and is always occupying his hands with crushing, rolling or smoking weed. He stays busy.

His garage is FULL of weed. His plants have been sprayed down with a sugar solution (something about them liking the carbohydrates) and it actually sparkles. The room is kept warm and the grow lights give off a yellow-green hue that fills the room and really makes you understand the origin of the slang, “chronic.” This is not just a hobby, it is a busineess; Landon is no slouch when it comes to marketing. He beams with pride when he tells us how ne named his own strain of weed, “Pineapple Express” just as the movie hit theatres.