Mountaintop Escape from Black Friday Mayhem

GTS-sunset thru tree
Photo Credit: Graciela Tiscareño-Sato


por Graciela Tiscareño-Sato and Benjamin Tiscareño

Some scenes of the annual Black Friday spectacle have nearly grown into cultural traditions. The repeated images of people lined up in tents, mobs of consumers shouldering and trampling each other on the day after Thanksgiving are sadly all too familiar to us. On this day of advertising-induced shopping when many Americans head towards local malls, my family practices a tradition of our own; we travel up a nearby mountain, in the exact opposite direction of the mall goers.

GTS-boy at summit
Little boy proudly overlooks the Sacramento River Delta from the top of Mount Diablo.
Photo Credit: Graciela Tiscareño-Sato

Last year, we traveled to the Sierras to explore the Black Chasm Cavern near Volcano, California. As desperate mothers fought in the toy aisle over insane deals, this mother showed her children the insane creativity of nature. Instead of spending this day surrounded by battery-operated noise makers, we marveled at the stalactites, stalagmites, flowstones and rare helictite crystals that quietly form a millimeter or less each day. A large family portrait taken beneath one of nature’s chandeliers (a particularly large and spectacular stalactite), hangs in our home as a memory of that special adventure.

Our family loves Mount Diablo closer to our east bay home. There is so much to explore, and the views are breathtaking! On Black Friday, there’s the additional bonus of having no crowds. This late November day, we decided to go up and explore the damage and renewal caused by the September fire. We wanted to investigate the changes and effects on the mountain since our last trip up earlier in springtime.

GTS-blind child touches tree
Child who is blind explores a trunk charred by the September fire.
Photo Credit: Graciela Tiscareño-Sato

After a brief visit to the visitor’s center at the summit to review the official photo album of fire fighting photos, we hiked the Mary Bowerman Trail to witness the sunset from the north side of Mount Diablo. Setting out on a family hike near sunset means gorgeous color for family photos. It also means braving a memorable hike with three children: our blind child and her white cane, our 7 year -old boy and our bouncy 9 year-old daughter that included the narrow, scary south side, bisecting a ghostly, charred mini forest with very little light.

The Rockies Mountains where I grew up in Colorado are three times taller than our Bay Area mountains, but I admit I love the accessibility of these smaller mountains; smaller means our three young kids can enjoy the feeling of climbing and enjoying summits.

GTS-girl on summit
Queen of the mountain atop Mount Diablo, conquers an outcrop of shale and chert.
Photo Credit: Graciela Tiscareño-Sato

My favorite part of our day was reading the trial guide at all 14 stops and expanding their vocabulary with words like greenstone, charcoal, shale, greywacke and chert. My children especially enjoyed finding “nature’s black chalk” created when the fire burned trees and shrubs. Here are a few photo highlights that I hope encourage you to take the drive east to explore Mt. Diablo. It’s the best $10 I’ve ever spent on Black Friday!

GTS-burnt tree as charcoal pencil
Charcoal pencil used to write on her new “slate” of chert and burnt bay leaf.
Photo Credit: Graciela Tiscareño-Sato

My family watches the sun setting from Mount Diablo. 30 minutes later: “Mommy, we’re the only family hiking this mountain in the dark.” “Yes, we are honey.”

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Graciela Tiscareño-Sato is a graduate of the University of California at Berkeley, School of Environmental Design, where she earned a degree in Environmental Design/Architecture while completing the Aerospace Studies program as an AFROTC (Air Force Reserve Officer Training Program) scholarship cadet. She was commissioned as a second lieutenant atop the Campanile on the Berkeley campus, completed aircrew training and was blessed to travel to and appreciate four continents of our planet during her decade of military service. She is the author of the award-winning book Latinnovating: Green American Jobs and the Latinos Creating Them, which highlights Latino environmental entrepreneurs innovating in green economy industries. Graciela is a sought-after speaker on entrepreneurship, innovation, leadership. She’s a key team member of the Silicon Valley Latino Leadership Summit held annually at Stanford University. Graciela actively mentors students needing education and career roadmaps. LATINAStyle Magazine named her “Entrepreneur of the Year” in Washington D.C. in 2010.  After winning three awards at the International Latino Book Awards in New York for Latinnovating, she published her first bilingual children’s book, Good Night Captain Mama (Buenas Noches Capitán Mamá), in July of this year.

On Twitter @GraceTiscareno


Finding a Connection to the Land: An interview with Dewey Gallegos – Community Leader and Bike Enthusiast

Dewey Gallegos is a Laramie, Wyoming native, community leader, bike enthusiast, and owner of the Laramie local bike shop, the Pedal House. Latino Outdoors was excited for the opportunity to interview with him to learn more about his connection to land and Chicano heritag

Q: Tell us your story, what is your connection to the land?

How could someone that has been born and raised in Laramie, Wyoming not be connected to the land. I was young when we didn’t have the technologies we have today so it was a lot easier to be enticed by the wild things creeping and crawling in the woods. My mother, Gloria, was a single mother for a while, and I think that gave me a little freedom to move around and explore the outdoors. Luckily, we lived two blocks from the river so I spent a great deal of time there with my Uncle David and his friends. They were older, all former boy scouts, and basically my heroes. We played with bb guns and bows and arrows. I remember being something of an outsider because whenever we played “cowboys and Indians”, I wanted to be Clint Eastwood and all of my friends wanted to be the Indians. I didn’t learn until later that we were more Native than Mexican. That actually impacted my desire to be outside more when I found out about my ancestry, and for a while I did the thing s that I thought a Native would do outside. Collected rocks, or sage, or something. I just wanted to be connected to something, like most people I guess. I really didn’t find my own personal connection to the land until I started riding my bike. And I don’t mean riding my bike like my friends, like 12 year olds who didn’t have drivers license’s yet. I found out, around 17 years of age, that I was an introvert who liked to spend lots of time on my own. I would ride around all day, and sometimes, all night on a stolen mountain bike my friend Miguel and I called affectionately, The Black Bike. For point of clarity, I didn’t steal the bike. I am not innocent, I knew the bike was stolen, but I rode it anyway. This bike opened a door for me. Some friends and I went camping, and Miguel and I brought bikes. I found some single track, over near Devil’s Playground, and I was hooked. I had a new love, a love that I still feel today, so I guess I would say that my connection to the outdoors has always been intensified by my relationship with my bike.

Cowboy Dewey

Q: How is this connection understood or misunderstood in your community?

My cultural community has always looked at my fascination with bicycles and the outdoors as something of an oddity. I grew up with my best friend and riding partner Miguel Rosales, so I did have a friend with a similar identity to relate with, but in general most of my family members would always ask questions like, “So you really wear those tight clothes and go out in public?” Engrained in our ideas of identity as American’s is the idea that we need to be automobile owners, and for some reason I think Chicano people tend to amplify this ideal. I do have family that goes hunting and fishing, but other than that, they don’t spend much time outside playing in the woods. I guess I just don’t see enough Chicanos outside playing after they can drive a car.

Q: Chicano identities connected to the outdoors, the environment, conservation—how are those words reflective of you?

I believe we have a responsibility to protect our outdoor recreation areas. I have a strong connection to my Native heritage, but I am in no way one of those people who believe that we Natives are able to listen to the wind or are somehow more connected to the land than any other cultural group. I only say this because my sense of responsibility isn’t derived from my culture, but from my selfishness to preserve my playground, and insure that there are spaces where the next generations can also recreate in the outdoors. I have worked with several Native and Chicano kids who have never been mountain biking or rock climbing, or even hiking in the woods. The more people who have no connection to the land, the fewer people who have no urgency to preserve the disappearing landscape that makes Wyoming so unique. I also look at the socioeconomics of the situation and realize how privileged I am to be able to play at all, much less outside. After working a 12 hour shift, going to the woods to recreate isn’t my priority, especially if I have to get up in the morning and do it all again.   I have no idea how my mother, a single mom, was able to pull it off. I guess it was the familial support system she had in place, but a lot of Chicano people don’t. I think that is where groups like yours come into play, at least I hope so.

My Tree

Q: What needs to change to have the broader conservation movement connect with it?

Programs that get kids outside are the way to go. Kids from all cultures need to be outside, playing in the woods. We need to realize why we always working so hard in our daily hum drum lives, and for me that is so that I can get outside and explore the deepest darkest corners of the world. We also need mentors who are willing to share these moments with people in a responsible way. We need to organize into groups, like Laramie BikeNet, and work with local landowners, the BLM, and the National Forest Service to insure our lands are protected.

Q: Why does your connection to land and work at the Pedal House matter to you?

As a bike shop owner, it is a financial answer I could give you, but that would not be the real reason. I love when I am sitting on top of a mountain, an hour from the car, and I get to see the sunrise in a way no one else is experiencing at that moment. I am not a religious or spiritual man, so this is more of a logical thing for me. Logically, when I feel the wind on my face, I don’t need to believe in something I can’t understand, but rather I am willing to wait to find out and try to live well in the meantime. For me to live well I need this connection with the land, with the wind, with the trees. I believe in trees. I believe in wind. I believe that these relationships with land are necessary for our survival as a people too, and it isn’t anything more than logic either. I just feel good when I am there, and I think that others would have the same or similar feelings if the listened long enough. But these experiences are hard to come by for some people in our culture. For reasons I mentioned earlier, but also because of the idea we have of ourselves as an Urban culture. That is only part of who we are. We need to rekindle some of that connection for the sake of the world. We need these open spaces so the next generation can experience a sense of place on our little planet. So hopefully they too can believe in trees.

Q: What does success in this connection to land and Chicano identity look like to you?

I guess it looks like every group bicycle ride I have been on, only with more Chicano people in the group. Smiling, laughing, giggling. It would also be great to have more Chicano people joining the local outdoor groups, and participating in outdoor events. Programs like yours are the key to this.

Me and Jeff

Q: How has work with the Pedal House been reflective of all this?

I am currently working as a coach for young people, and sponsor many events to encourage youth to get outside. I did, however, work in a program where we took kids out for one week hiking, biking and counseling trips to try to provide positive experiences in nature. We provided opportunities for kids who didn’t have a chance to play in the woods themselves. Now I use my business to continue this work. I am believe that it is my responsibility to make sure I spend time passing on what I have learned to the next generation.


La Historia En La Naturaleza

This past month, I spent a lot of time outdoors in places where history was alive. As the days tremble with a bite of cold and the curtains close in sooner than before, it usually forces many inside earlier in the day and more often. I remained resolved to try and fight this notion.

My first attempt at this was a visit to some of my Italian family in the far north of Italy. My mother, born and raised in Guatemala, had a father who was Italian. He emigrated to Guatemala a long time ago and was unfortunately, never able to make it back to his homeland permanently. This part of my history is something that I have been piecing together as I have visited them.

At the time, they had a large chestnut festival going on that weekend called La Castagnata. Their town is known for their chestnuts and, typically, this event involves several days of lots of good, local food, music and dancing. It was a time for me to remember the way in which we connect with the earth. Their town, nestled quietly within the mountains just 15 km to the Swiss border, still very much feels entangled more intimately with the earth. Many in the area pick mushrooms, cure their own meats, plant various things and are much more affected by ‘bad’ and ‘fruitful’ crop seasons.

This connection also has a strong history and culture. While at the festival, walking in crisp, chilly air on hardened cobblestone, I visited a space where the town had set up various pictures of the many people and events that represented their home and history. As I walked through the room, seeing crinkled pictures from the past, I noticed a photograph of my grandfather.

It was then that I was directed to a book where there was more to be seen. I noticed that his life’s story had been essentially turned into a story! There were drawings and a retelling of my grandfather’s voyage to Guatemala, as well as photos of my aunts and uncles who had returned many years later to connect with their roots.

I was astounded to see it and became a bit emotional.

Nature connects us all, in many different ways. Walking around my grandfather’s old town later that day, made me more acutely aware of the details of the place. Surrounded by the snow tipped mountains, entrenched in their fog, wrapping and shielding myself from the bitter cold, it all made me feel closer to him. Here I was, half way around the world from where my mother had started and I had come full circle. The trees he had seen many years ago might have glimpsed him running by as a boy before he had gone. The soil beneath my feet, felt much more like home than ever before. As one of my cousins had said, “His story really is like a fairy tale!”

It’s hard to connect to a culture you are not familiar with at first. Languages can be difficult to manage and situations can be complex to understand. But, running along the grasses he might have once passed on by, laying eyes on the same tree line, the waterfalls, that he grew up with, were all so much easier for me to understand right away.

Nature connects us all. With ourselves, with out past and our present. As the days grow shorter and colder, I am challenging myself to not shut myself in, but dare to venture out. Amazing things can be found in these places and new histories, always made.