Project Pico Duarte By Andrew Fast


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Clear Creek

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Clear Creek "Men hang out their sign indicative of their respective trades: Shoemakers hang out a gigantic shoe, jewelers a monster watch, and the dentist hangs out a gold tooth.  But up in the mountains of New Hampshire, God almighty has hung out a sign to show that there, he makes men."                                                                                                           -Daniel Webster, famed American statesman and scholar      "If I jump in the cold water I won't get Hepatitis B."  Stripping down to boxers and sox, for a second I believed him.  Shivering on a ledge covered by a sheet of ice and fresh dusting of snow, something didn’t feel right.  ...
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First Dispatch

Today was a very good day. Last night? Apprehensive. But today, ah, today was the introduction to a world I’ve never known. We’ve all been to Nowhere. It might have been in the middle of Seattle or Saskatchewan. It might have been at a Zen monastery, a no-man’s-land border outpost, or a bungalow in a nameless beach town. You may have found Nowhere on a sultry summer night in Paris when you’d spent your last euro and had no place to sleep; or on a midnight jeep safari in the Botswana bush after you’d blown your last spare tire, with your campsite a distant pinprick of light; or in the comforting cocoon of an all-night train compartment, sharing soul-secrets with a total stranger. Nowhere is a setting, a situation and a state of mind. It’s not on any map, but you know it when you’re there. This time it has taken, as it usually does, a tremendous amount of energy and an open mind to get to Nowhere. This time, Nowhere is Mae Sot, Thailand. I tend to prefer the places that Lonely Plan...
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Yet Anoher Junction

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