Last Call: To the Ledges

Yes, it is a long title, but it is no easy task to sum up the Nelson Ledges Quarry Park in one sentence. Even this story will not fully explain all that can be known about this bizarre place—one must go there and experience this world for oneself, something I have had the pleasure of doing several times.

Live performances of psychedelic rock; fire and drum circles that last all night; long-haired men and women wandering around who appear to be lost in a generation that is not their own; and, of course, the smell of bammy (look it up) are just a few elements of the experience of Nelson Ledges. When you first make your way from your newly organized campsite in the woods down to the beach by the quarry, you may believe you have been transported back into the 1960s upon witnessing the aforementioned sights (and scents). However, it is the 21st century and you are in eastern Ohio. Whether it's Grateful Fest, a festival honoring the Grateful Dead, Summer Hookah, a two-day concert headlined by "Ohio-grown" band Ekoostic Hookah, or Reggae Fest, you will find yourself wondering on the drive home, "What just happened?" The stories you will be able to tell will be unforgettable and, sometimes, unbelievable to those who did not accompany you.

Of the four times I have ventured to Nelson Ledges (twice for Summer Hookah, once for Memorial Day Weekend, and once to see Pittsburgh favorite Rusted Root), I have not managed to escape crazy experiences that demand retelling. During my first trip to the quarry, I was frightened. As soon as my friends and I pulled into our campsite, our "neighbors" warned us that they were wild, and they weren't kidding. For two days and nights, they did not sleep but instead held a nonstop party involving hula hoops, fire and djembes. Loud noises that sounded like gunshots erupted throughout both nights. We later discovered the noises were fireworks, and we've heard them every time we've returned. Sleeping, as a result, is close to impossible.

During the musical performances that weekend, we discovered that there are people out there who prefer to wear next to nothing and who don't care if their dancing is not at its best—they do it anyway. Of course, now we have become those people. Sweating as you've never sweat before is a requirement when living in the music at the Ledges, as well as wearing as many glowstick accessories that you can find. Side note: the glowstick I wear around my neck becomes my dancing partner at the Ledges.

These are a few things you must witness, along with many hand-made clothing vendors, cheap (or free) food and people who look as though they have lived at the quarry for many years. Bicycle Man, as my friends and I know him, is an older white man with long, gray, scraggly hair who wears a blue T-shirt and ripped jeans while peddling barefoot at quite a normal pace during the day. Once the sun goes down, however, his speed nearly slows to a halt. He defies gravity as he balances on the bike and hardly moves an inch per minute. Eventually, he will get to the other side of the venue but it takes several hours.

The Bicycle Man may be a treat to view, but no one is more entertaining or mysterious than Gregory. Gregory, whose name we learned while sitting in a drum circle on the beach, is an older black man who wears train conductor-style hats, hand-painted tanks that say something along the lines of "Hugs, not drugs," and cut-off jean shorts. After seeing him once, we realized we have seen him at almost every festival or concert we have attended in past years. This past summer, I have seen him seven times and each time he has been surrounded by groups of young women who adore him. He is a man of mystery that I cannot comprehend. Despite the confusion, he provides yet another burst of life and color for the Nelson Ledges experience that I could not live without.

Last but not least in my unraveling of this dream world are the ledges themselves. When you go to the quarry park, it is almost a rule that you must jump off the big ledge into the water. It took me two days to build up the courage for my first jump, but I eventually closed my eyes, held my hands together in prayer, and leaped.

The feeling you get while taking part in the jump, I believe, serves as the best summary of the Nelson Ledges experience for those who find the park to be a safe haven for their somewhat quirky, wild and free spirits. You may be taking a risk and you may be doing something most see as odd, but the sense of freedom you encounter along the way makes the splash worth it.

May you all have the privilege of making your way into the "twilight zone" that is known as Nelson Ledges.

Peace, Love and Wood

So now that I finally finished school (!), I had time to finish the wooden wall hanging I started weeks ago. As some of you may know, I live, eat and breathe music; therefore, when I got the urge to use my hands in some crafty way, I figured this symbol was perfect. It's been sitting in my room for quite a while now after I used a scroll saw to cut the shape out of wood and sanded it down in March. Today, I did the final step of staining it with a light, natural color. It's almost 2-feet tall and 1-foot wide.


If anyone is interested in purchasing this (I know there's a huge market for peace sign/treble clef wall hangings), send me a message. If not, it will find a happy space somewhere in my dad's basement once I move away :)

I'm Addicted...to Travel Porn

You heard me right...travel porn. And it's not what you think. I don't need to go to therapy...I just need to see the world.

It's back to real life here in Pittsburgh after a week in Jamaica and as I sit here at my new, somewhat adult job at the Wood Street Galleries for the second day, I am already restless. I've spent my day surfing the Web for airfare deals (ignoring any for American Airlines), hotel packages for Thailand, hostels in Holland, festivals in Germany...I can't stop.

I haven't been as fortunate as some of my friends and acquaintances who have flown to every part of the globe in which I wish to find myself- India, Kenya, Amsterdam, Nepal, San Francisco,Portland...but I have been here and there. I've ventured to NYC, Washington, D.C., New Orleans, San Antonio, Hawaii and, most recently, Jamaica. Every time, I leave those places feeling as if I am leaving home. It may seem strange, but a hotel bed is where I sleep best and sitting in an airport terminal is when I am the most excited. Living merely out of a small suitcase with only a bare minimal selection of clothing makes me high.

I told you...it's a drug.

The sights (often ghastly yet mesmerizing) of New York City at 3 am, the sounds of Bourbon Street in New Orleans followed by the amazing tastes at Cafe du Monde as the rain pours down around you, the crashing waves in Hilo Bay and the scent of tea tree mint shampoo used to avoid bugs in the mountains of Kalopa State Park, and the peaceful beats of Bob Marley entering your ears as you cruise along the northern coast of Jamaica...this is love and I can't get enough.

I look out the window here in downtown Pittsburgh thinking, "There must be something else out there." And I know there is because I've had a few tastes and it tastes delicious. As a recent college grad with thousands and thousands of dollars in loans to pay off (hello, deferment!) and one part-time job with slowly forming photo shoots, I don't have the luxury of globe-trotting just yet. However, I will not let my addiction go unfed. I will feed the beast what it yearns. I will make my trip (sadly, my last one) to Nelson Ledges where I will jump off of the cliffs into the quarry after spending the day lying on my raft in the water as a reggae band plays in the distance. I will venture to Toronto on a 6-hour bus ride to merely walk around a new city for two days. I will attend AllGood for the first and probably last time, returning home undoubtedly covered in dirt and tie-dye and stained with good vibes and body paint.

Irresponsible may be the word some people in my life may use but that is the farthest from the truth. Tell me of your addictions, your loves, your desires and when you see your smile reflecting back to you in my eyes, maybe then you will understand my obsession. Until then (and until I can satisfy this awful desire with an around-the-world ticket), find me a rehab for those like me who cannot get rid of my collection of travel porn.

Photography Card Advertisements!

Okay friends...I am in the process of ordering larger-sized business cards, therefore I need your opinion. I have three to choose from, and mixing and matching is always an option. So let me know which photos and colors you think are best!

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Toto...I don't think we're in Jamaica anymore.

So I'm back in Pittsburgh where it's 50 degrees and rainy after a week of 84 degrees and sunshine in Jamaica. Not all was well, however, as we had to make an emergency landing in North Carolina due to our plane losing pressure. Imagine my face when the oxygen masks flew out of the compartment above our heads...I may have even peed a little. After three more flights, we eventually made it to Montego Bay where we sat in the sun all day for 6 days. Of course, there were some excursions, one being a lovely booze cruise, which turned into utter chaos...don't ever put 50 white people on a boat with alcohol- it doesn't end well.

We also went to Negril where we got to see a bit of the real Jamaica hidden from tourists. Like in Hawaii and most other tropical areas where resorts dominate the shores, further inland is not so glamorous. Shacks were built one on top of the other and locals walked around like zombies, begging for you to buy just one of their many trinkets. I found hope, though, as our tour guide, Dalton, told me that he and the rest of Jamaicans more than appreciate tourists. Tourism is the one industry they rely on therefore the more, the merrier. The IMF (which is not in a good light right now) still controls the economy but Dalton assured me that Jamaica is doing much better than other countries that are in the same situation. With gas costing more than US$6 a gallon, let's hope things get better for them.

Our last stop in Negril was a bar on the coast where we got to go cliff diving (video to be seen soon on Facebook). It took several minutes of me trying to "reason with my fear," as my partner-in-crime for the week Rachel puts it, but I took the leap. I bruised my butt on impact but it was totally worth it! We also got to swim inside a cave under the cliffs, but unfortunately I have no photos to show the beautiful site. Below are the photos I was able to catch of my celebratory trip. Now it's back to reality where I have $80,000 in loans to pay off and horrible weather to accompany that realization.