At the same time, I’ve been busy launching a brand-new site that has its own bright future: LoveandTrash.com!

It’s a project with some of my very good friends. We’re calling it “a DIY blog for people who do things differently.” There’s a ton of content, some very fun stuff, and lots of “actionable inspiration” to get you motivated.

The truth is, the more I traveled, the more I found that while I love traveling, my true passion was more on the environmental/DIY track. Love and Trash gives that passion a voice, and I couldn’t be more excited about it.

So stop by and check it out! I think you’ll like it. LoveandTrash.com

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A congress member speaks at the morning fire ritual

In October, I traveled to The Farm in Tennessee, where the 10th Annual Bioregional Congress was taking place. I was excited to be there, though I couldn’t help but wonder…

What’s a bioregional congress?

Good question. To understand it, you need to understand “bioregionalism”. From biocongress.org:

[Bioregionalism] is taking the time to learn the possibilities of place. It is a mindfulness of local environment, history, and community aspirations that leads to a sustainable future. It relies on safe and renewable sources of food and energy. It ensures employment by supplying a rich diversity of services within the community, by recycling our resources, and by exchanging prudent surpluses with other regions. Bioregionalism is working to satisfy basic needs locally, such as education, health care and self-governance.

Essentially, bioregionalism boils down to getting more out of what you have, instead of importing what you don’t. Many new organizations and communities are working in this way, with an eye toward resource (and human-resource) management.

Shared meals in the common center, prepared and paid for by attendees

The Congress started in 1984, at which age your humble author was just learning to sing to trees. Since then, it’s continued to grow into a vibrant semiannual gathering of people from throughout the Americas who are actively experimenting with new forms of community and environmental awareness.

For example:

• a group called Ecobarrios who are working with residents in Mexico City’s housing developments to institute sustainable practices, composting and gardening (more on Ecobarrios);
• a housewife from Nashville who just got involved in nonprofits and wants to find out what the challenges are from a marketing perspective;
• a self-described eco-punk from LA who organizes traveling shows to teach underprivileged communities around the world about sustainability;
• several members of intentional communities from North to South America, here to discuss what works, what doesn’t, and where they are headed.

There is a fair share of outré hippie yahooism here as well. Tie-dye, massage, singing with the earth, singing Woody Guthrie songs: it all happened. But that hippie veneer was only skin-deep: beneath the surface, every person here is honestly, fully dedicated to working for change.

These guys talked animatedly for a long, long time.

Hippie Soup to Nuts

Each morning, the entire group met to discuss the day’s topics. Nothing was predetermined; it all had to be hashed out by discussion and vote. Laborious, yes—but it meant that everyone present had a voice.

These folks have their system down TIGHT. I’ve never seen anything like it. They conducted a huge meeting, circle-style, in a format where everybody got a chance to talk, with minimal interruption, almost no off-topic ranting, and not a single insult. You try that sometime with a group of 100 people.

That was my first sign that the people here were not just trying to share, give and change, but making it happen.

Proposed lecture topics for a single afternoon

The next sign was the depth, breadth and complexity of the discussion topics. People here were not speaking in generalities, but addressing topics that had direct effects on their work.

One woman wanted to discuss GMO seeds, and how we can keep them out of gardens. A small group proposed a new community and asked for potential members. A man offered dowsing lessons. A Venezuelan woman offered to share stories from the revolution. A short film on Cuba’s survival without petroleum drew a crowd.

Throughout the day, people gathered in various groups and addressed various questions and topics. The level of intellect was high, and the work accomplished was impressive.

In the evening, there was food, music and dancing.

I could only stay one day at the Bioregional Congress, but I left completely inspired. I fully intend to take part in future Congresses: as the environmental movement ramps up, these are the people who are leading the way to the future. I have faith they’ll get us there.

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There I was in Asheville, wandering around on a sunny autumn day, when I spotted this strange berry:

My first reaction was “wow, that sure looks like a poison berry to me.” So I didn’t eat it—but gosh, that thing looked so amazingly toxic, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Never did find out what it was.

So I’m asking you, Southerners and foragers and armchair botanists: how are my instincts? What is that? Was I right not to chew on it? Or should I have merrily popped it in my mouth and gathered more for supper?

Comment below if you’ve got an idea.

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While in Asheville, I spent a few hours wandering the trails at the Botanical Gardens. According to a sign posted there, the Southern Appalachians have the richest diversity of native plants anywhere outside of the tropics. Who knew?

The Botanical Gardens, which abut the UNC campus, were filled with people enjoying the shaded glens and free admission. Students played frisbee on the grass; young girls scampered along the creekbed; a flock of tourists followed a guide along the trails. Me, I just walked and looked. Here’s some of what I saw.

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1. Hear live music on a streetcorner.

On a sunny day, the downtown area is always populated with buskers. Sometimes it’s your basic guy-with-a-guitar setup; sometimes there are a few dudes in overalls or tweed; sometimes it’s a full band with amplification. One sure thing is that you won’t have to walk far to find a street performer to tickle your ears for free (donations appreciated).

2. Feed your head at Malaprop’s Bookstore.

Granted, Malaprop’s is a business, so they also appreciate monetary contributions. But if you’re broke, spend a buck on coffee and peruse their incredible selection of literature.

This store is one of the places that convinced me so utterly of Asheville’s uniqueness. In fact, Malaprop’s seems to assume that its clientele is highly intelligent, educated in self-sufficiency, and actively committed to social/environmental change.

And there’s the proof: a book on Cattle Health in the Green Living section? We’re not in San Francisco any more.

3. Take a nature walk.

While exploring downtown, I picked up a map that indicated there was a botanical garden next to the UNC campus. Heading out that way, I stumbled across the Reed Creek “interpretive trail”, which was a hugely educational resource. It guides you through an area that was once occupied by buildings; along the trail, a series of signs informs you of what was here, what’s here now and why. In the space of a city block or two, I learned a ton about local history and botany.

The Reed Creek trail lets out near the Asheville Botanical Gardens, a huge and beautifully-managed set of trails, greens and buildings. It’s an easy walk, and just like at Reed Creek, the Botanical Gardens are full of information on native species. Make sure you stop at the creek, an excellent spot for a wee nosh and/or nap in the dappled sunlight.

Click for more photos of Reed Creek and the Botanical Gardens.

4. Go on a self-guided art tour.

As I mentioned recently, Asheville is full of art both strange and beautiful. From the underpass mural, to political graffiti, to statuary both commissioned and independent, there’s art all over the place. And that’s just on the sidewalk—but there are also tons of art galleries for your browsing pleasure.

Don’t miss Chicken Alley, a strange little street that looks straight out of New Orleans or Oakland. It’s haunted by living artists and one dead doctor: Dr. Jamie Smith was killed in a 1902 barfight and still hangs around the place.

If you’re more into modern-age ephemera, guess what? Chicken Alley’s got free wifi. Yippee!

5a. (for hippies) Hippie out at the Drum Circle.

photo by BillRhodesPhoto

Apparently this is a big deal, but I am somewhat opposed to drum circles. If they’re your thing, that’s super! There’s a giant one here every Friday night, on Patton Avenue. Just follow the smell of patchouli and sounds of wild djembe.

5b. (for nerds and queers) Get your summer Shakespeare fix.

photo by Zen

What self-respecting town doesn’t have a free Shakespeare-in-the-park series these days? Asheville is right on point, offering free performances all summer (Friday, Saturday & Sunday nights only). The address is #1 Gay Street, so you ought to feel right at home.

Want more, more, more free stuff? I know right? Cheapskate your heart out at Asheville’s official Free Things to Do page.

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photo by Russ Roca of The Path Less Pedaled

I discovered Tammy Strobel (of RowdyKittens) early on in my journey, and she’s been a continual inspiration. Her simple-living tips and car-free lifestyle, all documented with great photos and useful information, got me through more than one situation—and I expect to keep learning from her for a long time to come.

Now, Tammy’s released her first e-book, Simply Car-Free: How to Pedal Toward Financial Freedom and a Healthier Life.

Simply Car-Free is an excellent, real-world, homespun resource for anyone who wants to get more serious about cycling and spend less time in traffic. I highly recommend you download a copy. It’s cheap, too: $9.95 for the first 500 customers, and $12.99 thereafter.

The book is full of extremely knowledgeable and useful info on why, how, when and where to ride your bike. There are also some great tips and facts you’ve probably never heard before. For example:

Sitting down and honestly analyzing the cost of our car was shocking. The car payment, interest, insurance, gas, maintenance and more added up to about $7,000 per year. The average American spends $8,000 a year on their car.

Also inspirational: Tammy’s own story of how she and her partner Logan switched from driving to riding, and what the process was like for a self-described “normal middle-class” suburban couple.

I started out biking 5 miles a week and slowly increased the number of miles I rode on weekends. Before I knew it, I was going for all-day bike rides that were between 30 and 50 miles. Anything is possible, just remember to take it slow.

Want more? Yes, trust me, you do. Check out the first three chapters for free here. Then buy the book, and support Tammy’s awesome lifestyle and excellent work!

(legally required) DISCLOSURE: I got a free advance copy of this e-book for the purpose of reviewing it. Neener neener.

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Tracy L. Barnett
Photo ©2010. All rights reserved.

I arrived in Mexico three weeks ago as the first leg of my yearlong journey through Latin America documenting the environmental movement across the continent, from the perspective of its protagonists. I’ll be traveling through Latin America for this entire year, interviewing green architects and guerilla gardeners, indigenous farmers and bicycle activists, journalists and academics, even public officials engaged in the transition to a more sustainable lifestyle. I’ll be reporting on what I find – in Spanish and in English – on the Esperanza project, a new media initiative.

Inside the theater at Huehuecoyotl, an ecovillage in the mountains of Morelos, Mexico.
©2010 Tracy L. Barnett. All rights reserved.

Here’s how it all began. About 10 months ago I was working as the travel editor at the Houston Chronicle, when a round of cutbacks slashed a third of the staff, including me. It was a shock, but it ended up freeing me up to launch a project that feels meaningful and exciting to me in a way that working for a daily newspaper never could.

The roots of this project really began long ago in Columbia, Missouri, long before I became a travel writer. Back in 2000, I started the bilingual newspaper Adelante, and my student reporters and of course our readers came from all over Latin America. I accepted every invitation I could to visit friends and their families in the South. Before that, I was an environmental writer at the Columbia Daily Tribune. The Esperanza Project tries to pull all of those themes together—travel, Latin America, and the environment—using the multimedia tools I learned as a travel writer and the Spanish I learned as an immigrant affairs reporter in Missouri, California and Texas.

Community members at Teopantli Kalpulli, an intentional community near Guadalajara.
©2010 Tracy L. Barnett. All rights reserved.

Some people have asked me, why Latin America? I can give several reasons for that: First, I wanted to do it. All my life I’ve wanted to take that trip where I just keep on going. Now I’ll be headed south for a whole year, and I’m really excited about that.

But more importantly, I think we in the States get a little self-important thinking we have all the answers. But there’s a lot we can learn from other cultures, ones that aren’t quite as caught up in the consumerist, carbon-dependent model we’ve adopted in the States.

Latin Americans, in particular, bring a different perspective and a level of creativity and passion to their activism really inspires me. My hope is that it will inspire my North American compatriots, as well.

Right now a completely unexpected green revolution is going on in Mexico City. Rooftops of homes and factories are being planted in gardens to provide an alternate food supply and offset carbon emissions.

A young activist in Coyoacán.
©2010 Tracy L. Barnett. All rights reserved.

In Guadalajara, bicycle activists are taking to the streets by the thousands, demanding green spaces, bike lanes and a more people-oriented approach to transportation and city planning. In the mountains not far from here, the Huichol people are fighting a groundbreaking legal battle to take back their ancestral lands and manage them in their own integral way.

But this is just the tip of the iceberg. Everywhere you look in Latin America, local groups have formed to raise consciousness about the urgent need to shift to a more sustainable lifestyle. They don’t have a lot of resources, but what they do have is creativity, passion and spirit.

One of my first articles, though, has to do with a more personal dilemma: Whether to buy carbon offsets to help compensate for the pollution my travel will inevitably cause. Carbon offsets have become pretty controversial of late, but after a lot of thought, I decided to donate $10 a month to the Marda Permaculture Project to plant olive trees and build greenhouses in the town of Marda, Palestine.

Composting at the ecobarrios in Mexico City.
©2010 Tracy L. Barnett. All rights reserved.

I don’t claim that this is the answer to corporate pollution on a broader scale, but on a personal level, it felt like the right thing to do. It’s a wonderful project that builds community resilience using tried-and-true permaculture techniques, and you can read all about it here.

This year I’m going to be using video and photography and my best reporting skills to bring these people to life for The Esperanza Project readers. I’ll also be seeking collaborators, people to write stories from their eco-experiences in Latin America, and people to help with translations. I hope some of you will join us at theesperanzaproject.org.

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We all know we should be eating local, organic produce. And we know why: it’s healthier, it supports the local community, it doesn’t get shipped around the world on oil-spilling ships…

But buying local is inconvenient. In order to get what your neighbors are selling, you have to go to the farmer’s market (or—gasp—to the farm itself!) We Americans are creatures of comfort, we work dawn to dusk, and most of us don’t really “do” farmer’s markets. We’d rather go to a big store that has everything we need, so we can spend as little time buying food as possible.

So, most people still buy fruit from South America via Whole Foods. Environmentally egregious? Perhaps, but it’s easy.

Hana Newcomb sorts produce for CSA members at Potomac Vegetable Farms in Virginia

That’s why local farmers came up with the CSA.

It stands for “Community Supported Agriculture”. The concept is simple: you pay a weekly/monthly fee, and get a box of fresh, local food delivered to your door.

Farmers refer to this as buying a “share” of their harvest. The harvest is divided evenly between everyone who chips in for the CSA subscription. If enough people participate, the farm does well and there’s plenty of food to go around. This helps keeps farms afloat, and it gets consumers more involved with their food and their community.

This one’s a no-brainer, kids. CSAs are (usually) affordable; they support local growers; they help the environment while improving your health—and you don’t have to get off the couch (except, okay, to answer the frickin’ door).

The time to act is now! CSA subscriptions are usually sold at the beginning of each year, with priority going to existing members. New subscriptions for the best CSAs can be scarce, and get bought up quickly.

Now, don’t get me wrong: we all ought to be waking up bright and early Sunday mornings, grabbing our reusable cloth bags, and walking down to the neighborhood open-air market to shop. But for most of us, that’s neither possible nor golly bloody likely. So cut yourself a break, sign up for that CSA box, and enjoy a year’s worth of real, healthy, good food with no guilt attached.

You can thank me after the sweet corn and tomatoes start rolling in.

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On our way out to Polyface Farm, Margie and I decided to stop off at Potomac Vegetable Farms‘ roadside stand, where Margie buys squash and ‘maters in summer months. We thought it would just be a brief visit, but we were wrong: this farm had a story to tell.

Northern Virginia is a world all to itself. It’s beautiful, in a Monticello sort of way: rolling hills, lush maples, immaculate lawns, stately houses with shaded driveways…

Yes, there’s plenty of money out here, flowing out of Washington along the freeways and metro lines. Wherever it goes, up spring crops of “McMansions“: sprawling, elegant-looking but cheaply-made homes with columns and fountains and circular asphalt drives. They’re designed to make the neighbors jealous—and even as the economy faltered, more McMansions were being erected on every available piece of land.

Including, as it turns out, smack in the middle of Potomac Vegetable Farms.

Hiu Newcomb and grandson Stephen Bradford

   

Hiu Newcomb and her husband Tony moved out here to Vienna, VA in 1970. In their words, this land was “rustic” and “wooded”; the turnpike was a two-lane road. They cleared a small field and began running what would become a very successful ecoganic farm. Before long, it expanded: by the late 1970s, the Newcombs were farming hundreds of acres in three separate counties.

Three decades later, Potomac Vegetable Farm has shrunk quite a bit. Part of that was intentional: the big farm was too much work, so they downsized and kept only the original Vienna plot and a bigger production farm in Loudoun County.

But as suburbia encroached, land values rose and even this little plot became threatened. Developers started poking around, making offers—but the Newcombs always said no.

In an effort to protect their land, Hiu and Tony’s daughter Anna created the Blueberry Hill Cohousing project. A small pocket of modest houses bordered on all sides by greenery, Blueberry Hill was designed to use up the farm’s development rights, thus protecting the land from the suburban zombie invasion.

But manifest destiny will not be denied, and the Newcombs could only hoard so much land. In the late 2000s, a field behind the farm (one of the last undeveloped pieces of land around) was sold to developers.

The piece in front went too, and Potomac Vegetable Farm was divided in two: their new neighbors paved an asphalt road right through the middle of the farm.

Now, Potomac Vegetable Farm has an easement to drive their tractors across that asphalt, so they can access their crops.

Hiu and Tony’s grandson Stephen drove us out to see it: we followed the farm road up past the cohousing circle, blowing through a newly-placed stop sign. There were mud tracks across the blacktop, and workers planting landscaping shrubs scarcely looked up as we trundled through the middle of their worksite.

And there it was, a brave little plot of land where the buzzing of insects was occasionally audible between the construction and highway sounds. In the background, Tyvek-swaddled behemoths loomed—but here in the sunshine, we talked cover crops and irrigation.

There’s a perverse satisfaction in the idea that these McMillionaires might have to stop their Lexuses to let a tractor cross the road. It’s a small comfort, I wondered aloud, but it must feel good nonetheless? Stephen smiled slyly and admitted nothing. He didn’t have to: it was obvious. In the face of all this sprawl, the Newcomb family’s staunch refusal to move is nothing short of a rebellious act.

Still, I wonder how long Potomac Vegetable Farm will be able to hold up “progress”. Their other property has similar problems: several farms in the Loudoun County recently fought construction of a new “megaschool” in the middle of their agricultural enclave.

And so it goes… but for now, Potomac Vegetable Farm continues its mission of good food, land stewardship and education. They can be found throughout the summer selling ecoganic produce in Washington DC, and their CSA delivers throughout the area. Three generations of Newcombs work the farm together, and their wares continue to make a difference in the hearts, minds and stomachs of suburbanites.

Including the residents of that new development, who might even pause to think about where their property came from—while they’re stuck behind a tractor in their driveways.

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