The Long Walk is a double proposition. First, it interrogates the Parks slogan “your big backyard.” This slogan suggests that King County parks and trails are our home; that we should feel content here. We should stretch out and roam, and make them our own. The second proposition is a bit loftier ; something for the critics to mull over. The Long Walk questions the materiality of art-making through its open-endedness. By operating on a real scale, in real time, The Long Walk vanishes as we make it. Its traces are not really measurable, even if we will remember it well. The analogy of a one-to-one scale map provides a helpful way to grasp this “piece.” Unlike more traditional work, The Long Walk does not seek to reference some-thing outside of itself, but rather evolves as a uniquely twined experience of time and geography, community and endurance, and lived aesthetics with self-direction.

Perhaps magically, the 50 stranger-participants of The Long Walk become a co-hesive group with its own interstitial culture. Walking has a way of fostering that transformation. Maybe walking in a group taps into something first established dur-ing our ancestors’ transcontinental migrations. Possibly lodged deep in our minds is an ur-knowledge that the people we walk with are “our people”, our family, our tribe.

Slowing down to footstep speed not only lets us connect to each other, but to our home’s architecture and topography. On that one-to-one scale map, we experi-ence the metamorphosis from city to suburb, farmland to forest. We explore our home, our relationship to each other, and our connection to the histories and memories of our forerunners. We also meet and entertain our neighbors—the trail users and trail-side communities.

“But how is this art?” I hear some people say. They seem confused or outright antagonized by the idea of art as social environment and shared activity. The art may be invisible, but the practice is not prestidigitation. French art critic Nicolas Bourriaud says of social practice, “rather than the artwork being an encounter between a viewer and an object, relational art produces inter-subjective encoun-ters.” Or one might say, socially engaged work like The Long Walk liberates us from objects and fixed meaning, moves us toward subjects and mobility, or de-scripts some narrative we’ve heard about and makes it our own. Yet this “piece” of socially engaged art is not completely free form. Taking the “natural” environment and the trail system overlay, I curate events throughout The Long Walk to spur collective experiences and alter the social terrain. Even if by design, however, the outcomes cannot be predicted.

The Long Walk’s Double Proposition

This year, Colorado Springs-based artist Eric Steen will have us literally ingesting the trail. With help from the Snoqualmie Brewery, Eric will craft a short run of beer flavored with edible and medicinal plants that grow along the Snoqualmie Valley trail. To focus our attention, Eugene-based Michelle Peñaloza will guide us in the development of itinerant poems, depictions of and meditations on our journey. Seattle-based artist and radio producer Jenny Asarnow will create a series of audio stories/confessionals of people living and working near the Sammamish River Trail. At the Mid-Point Mash-Up - the open-to-everyone exploration of place at McCormick Park in Duvall - Missouri-based artist Joyce Wong will reach out to the community through her palm-reading project An Excuse to Hold Your Hand; Seattle’s Rumi Koshino will lead a community ceramic chime-making workshop that will culminate in a sonorous installation; and The Snoqualmie Floodplain Cabaret (which includes performers Jed Dunkerley and Sari Breznau) will per-form a bizarre varietal of musical theater that would impress even David Lynch. Other participating artists include Travis Souza, Web Crowell, Zack Bent, Rodrigo Valenzuela, The Bicycle Choir, and Art House Brooklyn’s Sketchbook Project. In com-bination with The Walk itself, these projects and interventions are intended to help us slow down, delve deep into the meaning of landscape and home, and foster our temporary culture.

I would like to extend my deepest thanks to Jordan Howland and all of 4Culture, Robert Foxworthy and King County Parks, Seattle Parks and Recreation, Seattle Parks Foundation, the City of Duvall Cultural Commission, Sand Point Arts and Cultural Exchange, the City of Kenmore, Northwest Arts Center, Caffe Vita, Whole Foods, and Odwalla. Thank you!

SUSAN ROBB

DAY 1, THURSDAY, JULY 26TH Miles: 12; Walk time: 4 Hours

Walk Golden Gardens Park to the Burke-Gilman Trail to Sandpoint Magnuson Park. Camp at Sandpoint Magnuson Park – Hanger 30. 6:00 am - Arrive at Golden Gardens Park: participant check-in, van loading6:30 am - Introduce PAs, crew, and artists, go over safety, itinerary, and daily news 7:00 am - Introduce Michelle Peñaloza’s Itinerant Poem Project7:30 am - Begin walk/ Burke-Gilman Trail9:30 am - Snack break at Gas Works Park12:30 pm - Arrive at Sandpoint Magnuson Park– set up camp/lunch/ free time 4:00 pm - Reconvene at Hangar 30 for artist projects7:00 pm - Dinner, followed by more artist projects

Scheduled projects by: Michelle Peñaloza, The Sketchbook Project, Joyce Wong, Dave Sanford, and Susan Robb

DAY 2, FRIDAY, JULY 27TH Miles: 15; Walk time: 5 Hours

Morning sternwheeler ride from Sandpoint Magnuson Park to Log Boom Landing. Walk Burke-Gilman Trail to Sammamish River Trail to Tolt Pipeline Trail. Bus tour to McCormick Park. Mid-Point Mash-Up at McCormick Park and Train Depot. 8:00 am - Breakfast/daily news8:30 am - Pack van9:00 am - Walk to dock for sternwheeler to Log Boom Landing10:30 am - Arrive at Log Boom Landing/walk Burke-Gilman Trail to Sammamish River Trail to Tolt Pipeline Trail12:30 pm - Lunch, foot soak1:30 pm - Walk Tolt Pipeline Trail4:30 pm - Bus to McCormick Park – set up camp/swim/free time6:00 pm - Mid-Point Mash-Up6:30 pm - Dinner

Itinerary

Scheduled projects by: Jenny Asarnow, Rodrigo Valenzuela, Rumi Koshino, Zack Bent, Joyce Wong, Snoqualmie Floodplain Cabaret, Michelle Peñaloza, and the Bicycle Choir

DAY 3, SATURDAY, JULY 28TH Miles: 12; Walk time: 4 hours

Walk Snoqualmie Valley Trail to Tolt-MacDonald Park. Formal Dinner. 8:00 am - Breakfast/daily news8:30 am - Pack van9:00 am - Walk Snoqualmie Valley Trail to Tolt MacDonald Park1:00 pm - Arrive Tolt MacDonald Park - set up camp/lunch/swim/ help prepare feast/free time7:00 pm - Formal dinner Scheduled projects by: Web Crowell, Eric Steen, Michelle Peñaloza, Sketchbook Project, Joyce Wong, and Cafe Nordo

DAY 4, SUNDAY, JULY 29TH Miles: 12; Walk time: 4 hours Walk Snoqualmie Valley Trail to Snoqualmie Falls. Bus to Seattle. 8:30 am - Breakfast/daily news9:00 am - Pack van9:30 am - Walk Snoqualmie Valley Trail 12:00 pm - Lunch 3:00 pm - Arrive at Snoqualmie Falls4:00 pm - Convene for artist projects6:00 pm - Bus back to Seattle6:45 pm - Arrive Golden Gardens Park Scheduled projects by: Michelle Peñaloza, Joyce Wong, and Susan Robb

INTERACTION:The Long Walk hopes to clear a path and provide a trail, as it were, for YOU (as part of our temporary collective of itinerant, playful, trail trampers) to co-create our interstitial culture and engage in poetic reciprocity with your fellow walkers, the Regional Trails System, and the diverse surroundings we will be traveling through. Consider this an “open source” event. Feel free to artistically, socially, thoughtfully, and playfully participate.

SELF RELIANCE:While most of what our band of travelers is about will be constructed as we walk, there are a few things about our culture that are true right from the start. First, we believe in both self-reliance and mutual aid. Please make sure to bring the items listed under the MUST HAVE column and any other personal essentials you need for a 4 day walk. Next, The Long Walk is “social sculpture” and as such remains mostly unscripted. Please come with an open mind and don’t be surprised if the schedule changes slightly. Finally, if something isn’t working out for you, feel free to let us know, but also consider a creative solution of your own.

LIABILITY:By agreeing to be part of The Long Walk you are taking full responsibility for yourself, your actions, and your possessions at all times during your participation. Susan Robb and 4Culture assume no responsibility for you or your possessions while on any part of The Long Walk. We ask that you follow all rules posted by King County Parks and the municipalities we travel through.

TRANSPORTATION:Transportation back to Seattle will be provided from Snoqualmie Falls to Golden Gardens Park via charter bus.

ALCOHOL:The Long Walk has obtained an alcohol permit for the Tolt MacDonald Campground only. Alcohol is not permitted in Sandpoint Magnuson or McCormick Park.

A bit about alcohol and exercise: Studies have (sadly) shown that drinking alcohol right before working out can inhibit the circulation of glucose, which the body uses for energy. Hard workouts (like walking 15 miles a day) drain the glycogen stores (carbs stored in the liver and muscles) and leave your muscle tissue in need of repair. Pouring alcohol into your system as soon as you finish exercising stalls that

Things to know before you go...

recovery process. Plus, alcohol can lead to dehydration. This can not only prolong muscle recovery (due to decreased blood flow in the muscles), but can also increase risk of heat-related illnesses like heat stroke. Drinking any form of alcohol also causes vasodilation, or relaxation, of your blood vessels. Although the small blood vessels immediately beneath your skin are most susceptible, arteries in your feet and lower legs could be affected too. Walking with swollen feet greatly is no fun and increases your chances of getting painful blisters.

DOCUMENTATION:Since The Long Walk is a shared experience with many points of view, we think it’s only fitting to pool our documentatary resources. We kindly ask that you consider sharing whatever documentation you create during the event with your fellow Long Walkers. A community folder (link provided upon return from The Walk) will be available on Drop Box for this purpose.

By joining on The Long Walk you grant permission to 4Culture, King County Parks, Susan Robb, and artists working on her behalf, to use your likeness in video, photograph, sound and on the web in any of those formats. You will be asked to complete a photo release form at participant check-in on the 26th.

MEALS:• Breakfast – Through the generous support of Whole Foods and Caffe Vita,

The Long Walk will supply breakfast (fresh fruit, cheese, crackers, pastries, and coffee) on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday mornings. You are responsible for your own breakfast on Thursday.

• Lunch – You are responsible for your own lunch and you will carry it with you as we begin our walk each day. Please bring non-perishable foods (there are no coolers) sufficient for the 4 days. Non-perishable items could include: Tasty Bites, nut butters (in small foil pouches, or spooned into Ziploc baggies), tuna/chicken (in foil pouches), dried-cured ham/sausage, dried fruit, crackers, shelf-stable cheese, energy bars, chocolate, and applesauce cups.

• Dinner – Guest chefs will create dinner for us using local ingredients on Thursday and Saturday evenings. Friday night we will have a community BBQ at the McCormick Park Mid-Point Mash-Up – hotdogs, hamburgers, veggie burgers, chips, and coleslaw will be served.

All meals will include a vegetarian option. However, The Long Walk is unable to ac-commodate food allergies/sensitivities/preferences.

A note about packing: Space in the support vehicle is limited. Please pack efficiently and put your name on your bags. Items packed in paper or plastic shopping bags will not be accepted.

MUST HAVE ITEMS:• Tent with rain fly• Sleeping bag • Sleeping pad• Lunch items for 4 days• Water bottle• Your own table setting (fork, knife,

spoon, plate, and cup)• Towel• Wet wipes• Headlamp or flashlight• Sunscreen • First Aid kit – include epi-pen if

needed• Blister repair kit – moleskin, foot

lube, and blister Band-Aids• Bug spray – mosquitoes abound

at McCormick Park and Tolt Mac-Donald Park!

• Aloe/hydrocortisone cream or spray

• Prescription medication• Sun protective clothing and hat• Rain/cool weather gear• Money for lunch/snacks/beverages• At least one piece of formal gear

(who says we’re trail trash?!) fancy shoes, a smoking jacket, a vintage cocktail dress, long flowing tresses ...or??

Packing

CONSIDER BRINGING:• Aspirin/pain reliever • Ace bandages• Extra socks • Change of shoes • Sunglasses• Parasol • Earplugs • iPod • Solar cell phone charger • Camera/video camera • Swimsuit/water shoes – there are

opportunities to swim at all three camping locations

• Duct tape • Costumes • Portable musical instrument • Small gifts• Games • Fun things to share • Props• Banners • Anything else you can think of

that might make the experience more fun for you and your fellow walkers.

“An Eskimo custom offers an angry person release by walking the emotion out of his or her system in a straight line across the landscape; the point at which the anger is conquered is marked with a stick, bearing witness to the strength or length of the rage.”

“An absolutely new prospect is a great happiness, and I can still get this any afternoon. Two or three hours’ walking will carry me to as strange a country as I expect ever to see. A single farmhouse which I had not seen before is sometimes as good as the dominions of the King of Dahomey. There is in fact a sort of harmony discoverable between the capabilities of the landscape within a circle of ten miles’ radius, or the limits of an afternoon walk, and the threescore years and ten of human life. It will never become quite familiar to you.”

From Excursions: Natural History of Massachusetts, A Walk to Wachusett, The Landlord, A Winter Walk, The Succession of Forest Trees, Walking, Autumnal Tints, Wild Apples and Night and Moonlight by Henry David Thoreau

From Overlay: Contemporary Art and the Art of Prehistory by Lucy Lippard

Deep Time, Walking, and Being CHARLES MUDEDE

“I call trace ‘what subsists in the world when the event disappears.’” - Alain Badiou

The trace. The event. The world. The body. The trace is what remains of the body, which is between the event and the world. The trace and body form the subject. The event is something new, a creation, a process that happens only once in the world, and happens only by accident. Something does not have to be in a world, and the world does not have to be in a universe, and the universe could easily have been different from the one we find ourselves in. There is no reason for a universe to have stars. A universe can just be dust, gas, and nothing that shines. But ours does have the right stuff for stars, and around these brilliant balls of energy (factories of the heavy elements that make up much of our bodies) are worlds, and on the surface of one of these worlds, billions of biotic beings leave traces.

Those footprints in Laetoli. 3.7 million years ago, a volcano erupted in an area that’s now called Tanzania. As the ash collected on the ground, rain began to fall. The rain turned the ash into mud. When the rain stopped, animals left prints. But before the rain could erase these traces, more ash fell and covered the prints. The earlier ash cemented with the later ash. In time, everything ends up as a rock. The rock-protected traces travelled through a vast amount of time. Eventually, the rock eroded. The exposed prints were discovered in 1978 by Mary Leaky and her team of men. Some of the prints were of birds, others hyenas, others baboons, others gazelles, rhinos, and elephants. Two sets of tracks were made clearly made by humans.

But they were not really humans. Though they walked on two feet and had feet shaped just like our own, if one of these hominids appeared today, we would put it in a zoo and not a hotel room. Nevertheless they walked like us, had a stride like us, and heel-strikes, arches, and toe-offs like us. Where were these humble and hairy hominids going on that deep day in time? Wherever it was (a place to eat, to fight, to fuck, to sleep), they could never have known where they were really heading--they could never have known they were walking toward us.

The footprints extend for 88ft (27 m). There are 70 prints in all. One set is small; the other set is not so small. (Theres even a hint of a third hominid in the larger prints, a person following someone elses steps--was this game to them?) The smaller prints show the child or woman, pausing, making a half-turn, and, before

continuing in the northerly direction, taking a quick look at what to us would be an alien landscape. Whatever was seen did not did not terrify him/her.

Looking at prints is to imagine the impossible, like a man on a spiders thread above an abyss. Every step stuns you; each hominid print in the rock confounds you. How is it even possible they are there? How can you to walk across 3.7 million years just like that? A few rapid steps over an eternity. The slimmest slice of a long walk through life is somehow here with us. What is the message of these prints?

Recall Spinozas horse print. The farmer sees the print and thinks of plows, furrows, seeds, the rain, the harvest; the soldier sees a horse print and thinks of the swords, the charge, the battle, the victory. What do the prints Laetoli tell us philosophers and artists? “’Something happens’ is something like a cut in the continuum of the world, something which is new, something also which disappears—which appears, but also which disappears. Because happening is when appearing is the same thing as disappearing.” (Alain Badiou)

Laetoli footprints [photograph by John Reader]

Mental MappingJORDAN WEST MONEZ

Mapping is a process of accumulation, a method of reading as well as creating and reflecting meaning for and of places. Maps are acts of visualizing, conceptualizing, recording, and representing that exist both in our minds, and in two- or three-dimensional space. Maps provide communication between people, spaces, or times; documented, remembered, and imagined. The form that maps can take and the information that they can tell us is unlimited. Acts of mapping simultaneously embody knowledge and provoke further inquiry of the world around us.

On foot we have the opportunity to observe a tangible and qualitative character of the landscape where traces are left (such as desire lines, the paths we create when we take alternate routes from the designed) and we can begin to create relationships between places. We can appropriate space and discover or miss possibilities, and all the while create a map in our heads that documents this happening.

Landscape is experienced in time and space, yet the moment that an experience occurs, it becomes part of a palimpsest of images, perceptions, and associations. This process of observing the world is known as mental mapping, and by drawing a mental map one is able to participate in a generative activity that begins to show one’s sense of the world and their experience of it. I use mental maps to remember my experiences in a way that photographs, sketching, and writing could not replicate. Mental mapping can also be an excellent way to begin to understand varied points of view, to bridge the divide between personal perceptions of the world and those of others, and to think creatively and constructively about an experience.

Mental maps are subjective cartographies that reflect the landscape. The etymological root of the “scape” in “landscape” is from the Greek skopein, meaning “to behold, contemplate, examine, or inspect.” In German, the word landschaft means the nature of a space as well as its representation. Viewing is not merely the transfer of a scene through the eyes, after which particles of light assemble in the brain to create an image, but also the act of processing complex physical, psychological, and cultural conditions. Landscape and vision are embodied experiences, and is registered by the senses changes with movement through the landscape of both the physical world and the brain. Landscape transforms meaning through interpretation. Landscape is a situated phenomenon in space, in our minds, and on our maps.

A mental map drawn after a trek to Khalia Top in the Indian Himalayas. The trek was supposed to last for a few days, but at the top, monsoon rains forced us to abandon that idea and hike down quickly by the light of our headlamps. I was electrocuted when what seemed like a brilliant idea to hike with an umbrella went awry. Along the way we encoun-tered several experiential zones, from the canopy of huge Rhododendron trees to open land used for grazing sheep and goats.

Detail of Khalia Top Mental Map showing the changing habit of the Rhododendron trees and the texture of the trail as we reached higher altitude.

Detail of Khalia Top Mental Map show-ing the trail becoming less defined on the ground, a small shrine, and my experience with the lightning.

Plant Field Guide for The Long Walk 2012text by JIM DEMETREillustrations by AMANDA MANITACH

During The Long Walk you will encounter a variety of plants along the trails, both native and introduced, that have the potential to provide you with assistance during your journey. Some of them benefit us simply by their bold taste, while others set an example for us through their physical attributes and unique life cycle. Based upon my experience of The Long Walk 2011, I have created this brief field guide to help you discern, ingest and learn from them.

Stinging Nettle (Urtica dioica)

Long feared, shunned and distained, this pain and itch-inducing roadside weed is today considered one of the best tasting and most nutritious forage plants in our region. The mint-like stems, with their hairy, wrinkled, symmetrically-arranged leaves, rise to waist height where they can be harvested with caution. (The sharp, hollow stinging hairs on the stalks and undersides of the serrated, sharply-pointed leaves will inject histamine and formic acid into your skin if you brush against them.) If you touch only the top side of the leaves and gently roll them into a ball, you will

deactivate these tiny barbs. Only pick the top four at the tip of the stem, so as to limit the level of toxicity. Though an appeal-ing food source for the traveler, avoid eating them raw to avoid possible liver damage. The leaves are best lightly sautéed and served as a side dish or added to a spring pasta.

Two other edible weeds you will find on The Long Walk are the bit-ter tasting Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) and the small, fleshy Miner’s Lettuce (Claytonia perfoli-ata). Both are highly regarded for their nutritional value and sharp, complex flavor.

Red Huckleberry (Vaccinium parviflorum)

Hidden in the shade and often lost among the coarser leaves and branches of its im-mediate neighbors, the Red Huckleberry, with its refined leaves and slender green stems, is often seen emerging fountain-like from dead stumps or nurse logs. In July, the plant is adorned with tiny, translucent red orbs that resemble Christmas lights. These tart, juicy berries may be too small and too sparsely allotted to relieve a traveler’s hun-ger but they will satisfy with their agreeable flavor. Its tougher-looking relative, the Ev-ergreen Huckleberry (Vaccinium ovatum), may also be found along the trail but its black, musky-tasting fruit will not ripen until fall.

Other fruit worth tasting along the walk are those of Salal (Gaultheria shallon), mildly sweet blueberry-like, and the juicier but in-tensely tart ones of the Oregon Grape (Mahonia nervosa). Both plants are common evergreen shrubs that inhabit the floor of Northwest forests along with the iconic, ever-present Sword Fern (Polystichum munitum).

Thimbleberry (Rubus parviflora)

Crowding the edge of the trail are dense stands of pithy canes cov-ered by large, star-shaped leaves of wrinkled yellow green. In the spring, small, white rose-like flow-ers bob above the foliage, which turn in early summer to deep red buttons of fruit. The thimbleberry is so delicate that its thin compos-ite of seeds will break apart when picked, dissolving into little more than a blood-toned stain on the fingertips. But its taste is remark-ably sublime, with intense rasp-berry flavor often giving way to paprika-like hints of spiciness. After

eating one, you may find yourself lost in the brush for long periods of time foraging on their insubstantial delightfulness.

Frequently seen relatives include the bland and bitter Salmonberry (Rubus specta-bilis), the discreetly trailing blue-stemmed Pacific Blackberry (Rubus ursinus), and the ubiquitous, highly invasive, and heavily-armed Himalayan Blackberry (Rubus armenia-cus) with its familiar juicy and delicious fruit.

Red Alder (Alnus rubrum)Taking root where landscapes have been scraped bare by backhoes, burned by fire, or stripped away by lava and covered with volcanic ash, the Red Alder brings life to places where death and destruction reign. Its miraculous ability to fix nitrogen through root nodule symbioses when growing in organically impoverished soil makes this tree, with its smooth silver bark and rough, serrated, heavi-ly-veined leaves, the great restorer of our damaged ecosystems. Growing quickly, it sheds its leaves profusely and soon attains great stature. At the end of a short life-span, it collapses and gives way to the ground from which it came, enriching the soil and allowing for other diverse species to follow in its wake.

Other large, deciduous native trees seen on The Long Walk include the Big Leaf Maple (Acer Macrophyllum), the Oregon Ash (Fraxinus latifolia), the Bitter Cherry (Prunus emarginata), and, largest of all, the Black Cottonwood (Populus balsmifera).

Western Red Cedar (Thuja plicata)

The most important tree in the traditional culture and economy of the native tribes of the Pacific Northwest is the Western Red Cedar. Its wood, bark and roots were used to build canoes, baskets, boxes and clothing. The distinctive bright green of the sprays (flat planes of compressed needles) and its dense, upturned and loosely hanging branches distinguish it from the darker, more rigid conifers that usually stand beside it. The reddish bark is soft and fibrous and can easily be peeled off in long strips. The Western Red can grow in wet conditions, as the roots and wood are largely immune to rot, and the tree’s pliability prevents it from being broken by winds and snow drifts. Its aromatic essence, which is often likened to pineapple, is a welcome presence on a warm day.

If tolerance for moisture and structural flexibility give this tree an evolutionary advantage, other conifers hold trump cards of their own. The mature Doug-las Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii), our most common and adaptable conifer, has corky, furrowed bark that insulates it from fire. The Western Hemlock (Tsuga heterophylla) can grow in total shade where others fail. The Shore Pine (Pinus contorta) grows on the coast or above the timberline where nothing else takes root. The Grand Fir (Abies grandis) out-paces all of them with its rate of growth. Their interaction is a game of rock/pa-per/scissors played out in the forest.

Pacific Madrona (Arbutus menziesii) The most beautiful and exotic tree you will see in our region is the Pacific Madrona, which is easily recog-nized by its contorted branches, shiny green leaves and exfoliat-ing or iridescent red bark. It is often found growing on dry, rocky slopes along the edge of coniferous woods where the twisting, wildly irregular copper trunk provides a sharp

contrast with the rows and rows of straight and deep green Douglas Firs. Small bell-shaped and green-tinted flowers emerge high in the canopy in spring, becoming hard, pebble-sized red fruit by fall.

Like that of the walker herself, this great tree’s path and experience are hard to predict and never the same.

Trail Vignettes: Tales of Wanderers, Horse Races, Buckets of Blood, BEER and Piano Assassination.

BRANDI LINK

Compiled for the enjoyment and edification of the trail wanderers and sight seekers of The Long Walk 2012. Edited to fit the space allotted and my peculiar interests.

First up: The story of the people who have walked before us…Excerpt from Kenmore by the Lake: A Community History, published by the Kenmore Heritage Society in 2003, p. 15-16.

Less than two hundred years ago, Native Americans were the only people living in what is now the Kenmore area. [As was the case for most of the area we are trav-eling through.] They worked, played, sang and danced, quarreled, loved, and died here. They lived on the waterway that later became known as the Sammamish Slough, which they called Sts’ahp (“crooked,” or “meandering”). They were the Sts’ ahp-absh (“people of the Sts’ahp”). They were the Meanderers.

Their village was located where the Sammamish Slough enters Lake Washington, near present-day Swamp Creek. The settlement was called Tl’awh-ah-dees (“some-thing growing or sprouting”). Nearby was a spot that may have been a gathering place. It was called Stah-tahb-uhb (“many people talking”). TI’awh-ah-dees was one of several sites along the slough that made up the winter quarters of the Mean-derers. In addition, six other villages of Hah-chu-absh (“lake people”) dotted the shores of the lake, some as nearby as the later sites of Kirkland, Lake City, and Lake Forest Park. The Meanderers had marriage ties to the Kirkland village located at the mouth of Juanita Creek, and were closely related to the inland Snoqualmie. They were among the first to trade with the Englishmen of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and shortly thereafter the white American settlers.

By 1900, when Kenmore was established as a community, all mention of the Me-anderers and their native neighbors had disappeared from local histories. Where might they have gone?

Next: Where beer came from! Okay, not where it came from, but its international connection to the Snoqualmie Valley. Excerpt from Lindbloom, Mike. (1999, January 21). “A Hidden Past: Hops And Dreams” Seattle Times Eastide, accessed online June 6, 2012.

Snoqualmie valley saw a short-lived boom in the 1880s that brought steady employment to local tribal members - and a legacy for today’s residents. Due to

a hop blight in England, the British ale supply was threatened in 1881. So, naturally, the farmers from the Snoqualmie Valley stepped up to do their share to keep the taps flowing.

In 1865 entrepreneur Ezra Meeker planted a large hop farm in Puyallup [and soon] fields reached as far north as Issaquah and Kent, which was named for England’s scenic hopgrowing region. The state Board of Horticulture bragged that at 1,327 pounds per acre, Washington hop farms in 1892 were twice as produc-tive as those in England or Germany. In the shadow of Mount Si, settlers formed the Snoqualmie Hop Ranch, a 1,200-acre expanse of woods, orchards and gardens that included 450 acres of hop rows. A three-story hotel on the site attracted tourists from Boston, San Francisco and Seattle who watched the September spectacle of a thousand workers stripping cones off the vines. But the most im-portant effect of hop commerce in the Snoqualmie Valley [was] the means it pro-vided displaced Native-American families “to `hang on’ during a period of social and economic change,” writes Kenneth Tollefson, a retired Seattle Pacific University anthropologist.

[Most hop pickers were Native Americans coming from all over the state and even Canada.] Snoqualmie tribal members made up the majority of locals, but there were also many white homesteaders who needed cash. “Hop pole!” they’d yell, as a man would wrestle a 10-foot hop pole with vines attached out of the dirt, laying it against an X-shape frame so women and children could reach the cones. One adult could usually fill a 100-pound bin or two per day, earning about $1. Children worked the fields at age 5 alongside their extended families. Women carried infants on their backs in wooden cradleboards, with sticks extending down from the bottom that allowed the cradleboards to be set on the ground so mothers could easily squat and nurse babies without disrupting the work routine. Sometimes they would hang cradleboards from trees. Men carried loads, picked or worked as hunting and fishing guides. Natives insisted on being paid in silver dol-lars because they didn’t trust paper money. The income went for modern needs such as flour and knives, as well as to gambling. The Snoqualmies’ weekend horse races also attracted white tourists. In 1892 the tiny hop louse invaded Washington, Oregon and British Columbia, effectively collapsing the industry on this side of the mountains. At the same time, European fields recovered, and world markets glutted, driving the price down. The Snoqualmie Hop Ranch and most other hop farms reverted to food crops. Today only a few artifacts remain, the most visible being George Davis Rutherford’s hop-drying kiln in Fall City - the last of 80 kilns in the area. Rutherford’s kiln was sold, moved and converted into a root cellar in 1904. A community group replaced the foundation and roof in 1997. The kiln can be viewed in Fall City Community Park, across the Snoqualmie River from downtown.

After that: Drinking, fighting, dancing and carousing…generally, a good time had by all.Excerpt from Kenmore by the Lake: A Community History, published by the Kenmore Heritage Society in 2003, p. 65-75.

In contrast to more staid pioneer settlements, Kenmore gained a name for hosting good food and good times as early as the 1920s and retained that reputation over the next eighty years. The “good food” renown originated with early-day train and bus stops, which called for meals on the run. The 1914 completion of the brick road from Seattle to Bothell, followed by the 1934 reconstruction of Bothell Way and development of a 1939 “super-highway” from Seattle to Bothell, paved the way for the nickname of Restaurant Row that was given to Bothell Way.

Unlike the good food, the “good times” moniker earned Kenmore a more ques-tionable acclaim at times. Contraband whiskey found its way to lakefront landings during the 1920s Prohibition years when liquor was banned. Restaurants, road-houses, and dance halls commonly called “bottle clubs” sprang up along Bothell Way. These watering holes gave Kenmore its reputation as Roadhouse Strip during the 1930s and ‘40s. Rumors still persist of secret tunnels that provided access to the stored liquor. During this time, lively Saturday nights in local saloons found loggers mingling with sportsmen who came from the Seattle area to fish or to hunt ducks. The Inglewood Tavern, nicknamed the Bucket of Blood because of flying fists and barroom fights, remained part of the Kenmore scene as late as the 1940s. [But that didn’t necessarily mean the women and children were left at home.] The Hitsman Dance Hall boosted attendance at the weekly dances by encouraging families to bed down their children on the benches in the hall while they enjoyed the toe-tapping music. When local hunter Bill Maul captured a baby cougar (mountain lion) after killing its mother, he gave it to the owner of the Cat’s Whiskers Café, who named it Felix and housed it in a cage behind the restaurant. The animal attracted many visitors, especially after a local newspaper printed pictures showing the owner’s young daughter sleeping with the cougar. [Cougar day-care anyone?] When the cafe was purchased by a new owner, the cougar was given to the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle.

After operating a hot dog stand at the Wayne Curve in Bothell in the 1920s, entrepreneur Henry Lemm decided to move to Kenmore. He opened Lemm’s Tavern on the northwest corner of Bothell Way and 73rd Avenue NE, a site that became known as Lemm’s Corner and a main draw along restaurant row. Also at Lemm’s Corner was the Henry Jang’s Hot Cake King (1951-1962), a good place for pancakes and a strong cup of coffee. The menu featured “all-you-can-eat, dollar-sized” pancakes for 30 cents. Henry Jang also served lunch, but there was no lunch menu. He prepared a daily one-dollar lunch special, and “you ate that or nothing.” If a patron was hungry but had no money, Mr. Jang would feed the person anyway. On the other side of Bothell Way, an early roadhouse called the Lake Forest Inn was situated at 61st Avenue and Bothell Way was moved a block north in the

1980s, and in 2000 was renamed the Lakepointe Bar and Grill. The Lake Washing-ton Grillhouse and Taproom on the Kenmore lakefront became a 1990s addition to the restaurant scene, and was succeeded in 2002 at that location by the Lake Washington Roaster and Alehouse.

Despite its early “good times” reputation, the name of Kenmore is no longer a byword in the Seattle metropolitan area for roadhouses and restaurants. Instead, today’s community has a much more mellow/suburban reputation.

This is just plain crazy: Dropping a piano on Duvall. Yup, you read that correctly.Excerpt from Stein, Alan J. (1999, June 14). “Piano dropped from helicopter in Duvall and thousands turn out to see it on April 28, 1968.” HistoryLink.org.

On April 28, 1968, nearly 3,000 spectators flock to Larry Van Over’s farm in Duvall to see (hear?) a piano drop from a helicopter. Van Over, better known as “Jug” for his musicianship as a member of the Willowdale Handcar jug band, had recently heard a recording on KRAB-FM of a piano being destroyed by sledge hammers. Finding the aural experience disappointing led to the speculation (most likely fu-eled by certain psychoactive chemicals) about dropping a piano from a building, or better yet, a helicopter, and what that drop might sound like. Van Over enlisted the aid of Paul Dorpat (b. 1938) at Helix. A benefit “Media Mash,” co-sponsored by KRAB and Helix, had already been scheduled for April 21, with performances by Country Joe and the Fish among others. The Piano Drop was hooked on as a free premium the following Sunday. Larry tracked down an old upright piano, moved it to his farm, and contracted a helicopter service out of Boeing Field to drop the piano.

That Sunday was sunny and clear. As the helicopter passed Woodinville, Larry and the pilot noticed that the traffic below was getting heavier and heavier. “Gee, there

1968 Duvall piano drop [Image from historylink.org]

are a lot of people out today,” Larry commented over the engine’s roar. By the turnoff to Larry’s farm, he and the pilot realized that they had not been observing mere Sunday drivers. The roads around the farm were a parking lot - and then they saw a wall-to-wall carpet of humanity covering the drop zone. Instead of the 300 par-ticipants he expected, the

pilot estimated at least 10 times as many people filled the countryside below. [The pilot was concerned the people would not move, and for the first time showed concerns about the mission.] “They’ll move, man, they’ll move,” Larry pleaded with that persuasive power only true evangelists and zonked-out lunatics can muster. “Trust me, man, it’ll be like the Red Sea all over again!” For whatever reason -- curiosity, fear of not getting paid, or a contact high -- the pilot relented. “Okay, but they gotta give me plenty of room, or no drop.”

The pilot hitched the piano to a special harness and lifted off. He approached the target, a platform of logs, from an altitude of at least 150 feet. The machine hove into view and the crowd, as Larry had predicted, parted and retreated to a respectful distance. The pilot brought his machine to a halt mid-air, but bodies in motion tend to remain in motion, and the 500-pound piano dragged the helicop-ter forward. The pilot panicked and hit the harness release, but nothing happened. He then hit the emergency cable release, and the piano snapped free. It overshot the target by several yards, struck the soft earth, and imploded with a singularly unmusical whump. “A piano flop,” Paul Dorpat later dubbed it.

The crowd was not disappointed and let loose a collective “Far out!” as it surged toward the remains of the piano. By the time Larry pushed his way to the piano’s impact crater, not a stick, wire, ivory, or scrap of felt remained. “They devoured it,” he recalled. The last he saw of the instrument was its steel harp being loaded into a VW microbus by two hippies. As Country Joe and the Fish fired up their amplifi-ers, somebody said, “Hey, let’s do that again,” and so was born the idea for the Sky River Rock Festival and Lighter Than Air Fair, which took place later that year.

In summation, as you walk the 45 plus miles along the King County Regional Trails System at the end of July, consider those that came before you and their contributions to the landscape that surrounds you. And remember this: if you’ve ever wondered what dropping a musical instrument from a high perch would sound like, you are not the first. Enjoy the road friends.

Walking Meditation: How To Do Walking MeditationTHICH NHAT HANH

Walking meditation can be practiced by simply taking the principles of meditation into a walk. This means that as you walk, bring your attention to things that are close to you – things that are in the real world, not just your head. That is, stop thinking and start directly experiencing your senses.

Try bringing your attention to your breath, which serves to anchor your attentionto the present moment. This is a good way to start any meditation. As your at-tention is on your breath, allow your breathing to come naturally and without impediment;do not try to change it or control it in any way. If, while you’re doing this, thoughts come up, gently dismiss them and return your attention to your breath.

You can begin to place your attention in your body after you have “anchored”your consciousness in your body with breath awareness. As this is a walkingmeditation, allow your attention to flow into your legs, the soles of your feet, andall parts of your body, with special focus on the rhythm of your body and the wayit moves. As you place your attention in different parts of your body, you will beable to notice a sense of tingling or aliveness in those parts. With further applica-tion of attention, you will notice a sense of general wellbeing or pleasure.

Now allow your attention to go outwards. While you do this, keep some attentionin your body and movements: the sensation will be almost as if you are lookingwith your whole body, not just your eyes. As you do this, experience every sensa-tion of your walk in a meditative way, that is, without placing labels or makingjudgments. See what you see, hear what you hear, feel what you feel. When yousend your attention outwards, it will feel almost like you are “radiating”, as if yourattention were a beam of light. As an informing images think of the expression “a beaming smile”. Indeed, a smile is the most natural way to accompany this medita-tion.

(From The Long Road Turns To Joy)

“All truly great thoughts are conceived while walking.” - Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols, or, How to Philosophize with a Hammer

“It seems thus possible to give a preliminary definition of walking as a space of enunciation.”- Michel de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life

“Walking . . . is how the body measures itself against the earth.”

- Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking

“Caminante, son tus huellas el camino, y nada más; caminante, no hay camino, se hace camino al andar. “ “Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking.” - Antonio Machado, Campos de Castilla

Some other artists using walks:Richard LongHamish FultonCarl AndreWilliam Pope L.Janet CardiffJanine AntioniFishli and WeissAllan KaprowCarolee SchneemanSan KellerVito AcconciStanley BrownSophie CallePatricia JohansonTodd ShalomMowry BadenMaria Ambramovic and Ulay

Some writers on walking:Rebecca SolnitGuy BubordGary SynderWalter BenjaminFrank O’haraWalt WhitmanVirginia WoolfPatti SmithWordsworthJack JerouacAllen GinsbergHenry David ThoreauVirgil

Some films about walking:The Way BackGerryDer Recht WegWalkaboutFitzcarraldoRabbit Proof FenceTouching the VoidWalking to Werner

For more inspiration

www.thelongwalkseattle.com