Issue 9 Trouvaille 2

Trouvaille

French (n): something lovely found by chance

Le Mans, France - Madeline C. Lanshe

3 5 9 11 13 17

Masthead

Back Road to the Universe

Dave and Carol stumble across a discovery that leaves them starryeyed as they travel the back roads of Arizona.

Don’t Forget to Look Up

Poem and photography

The Messenger

Poem and photography

A Knock on My Office Door

An unexpected adventure comes knocking, sending Elise last minute across the country.

Overlap

Poem and photography

Submissions

www.ethnospheremagazine.com

Editor

Madeline C. Lanshe

editor@ethnospheremagazine.com

Editorial Staff

Mitchell Dunbar, Maureen Gregory, Madeline C. Lanshe, Marcia Neundorfer, Mike Neundorfer

Designer

Madeline C. Lanshe

Photographers

Manuela Dumay, Elise Hanson, Madeline C. Lanshe, Mike Neundorfer

Writers

Manuela Dumay, Elise Hanson, Madeline C. Lanshe, Dave Munro

Other Contributors

Elizabeth Keller

We created Ethnosphere as a place to connect people who are alike and unalike, express pieces of the human experience, and inspire others and ourselves through stories and art.

Le Mans, France - Madeline C. Lanshe

Back Road to

Allow me to begin this story with its moral: travel the back roads; you could discover the heavens.

My wife, Carol, and I retired from the marina and boat building business thirteen years ago when we were in our mid 70s. While we have been avid boaters most of our lives, we have also traveled extensively on land in motorhomes. BB2 (Baby Bus 2) is what we currently drive, one of the best features being a super high roof, as I am too tall to stand up straight with a standard ceiling. In BB2, we are able to travel on almost any road we discover, and park nearly anywhere we desire. Our Sprinter has a factory defect, however, that I will not report or get fixed: when it sees a brewery sign, the wheel turns itself into the parking lot.

We were driving north on a local road from Green Valley, Arizona, and what to our wondering eyes should appear on the horizon but a towering mountain peak, so tall it was impossible to miss. “What is that?” I asked Carol. “I don’t know, but I will find out,” she told me. We travel with three active GPS units: his, hers, ours; they were no help in an instance like this. Luckily, we also travel with a complete set of old fashioned but up-to-date paper

maps. I watched the peak grow larger while Carol scanned the map spread across her legs. “That’s Kitt Peak,” Carol said. “It’s the U.S. National Observatory.” Neither of us knew such a thing existed.

A little way down the road was a sign: Kitt Peak National Observatory, tours daily. No discussion was needed. We turned south and headed up a long, narrow, steep mountain road to Kitt Peak, elevation 6,883 feet, the highest point in the Quinlan Mountains. The climb is 12 miles, we gained 3,591 feet in elevation, and the average grade is 5.7%.

When we finally reached the top, we entered the visitor’s center, got in line, and asked about the tours. “There are no tours today,” we were told. Our faces and hearts dropped. Our disappointment didn’t last too long, however, because someone standing in the exhibit area said, “They have night tours tonight.” We gladly stuck around.

In BB2, we dressed warmly, then went back into the visitor’s center for dinner (Subwaylike sandwiches which were part of the tour), and divided into small groups. The hike began at dusk, offering us a fabulous sunset over

the Universe

by Dave Munro

the desert. It led us into the telescope domes, which are huge, white domes: windy, cold, noisy, and fascinating. The astronomers explained how everything worked while we waited for it to get dark. The word “dark” may be an understatement. With no light pollution, it became an all-enveloping black.

On TV screens we could see what the astronomers were looking at through the telescope. Together, we explored galaxies, planets, stars, nebulae, black holes. In the vastness of space, we struggled to comprehend that things were dying and being born, just like they are here on our home planet. We were each given a turn to sit in the astronomer’s chair to see first-hand what they were studying. We’d never seen so many stars.

After leaving the dome, and with it, our window into the sky, we were led back to our vehicles with red light flashlights. Our adventure wasn’t over yet. All the lights on/in our vehicles had been blacked out except for a marble-sized circle in each tail light. Yes, we had to drive 12 miles down the steep, winding road following only the smidge of light coming from the taillights on the vehicle in front of us, who was following the vehicle in front of them, and so forth, until

the front where the leader guided us. I’d never driven in such circumstances, needing to trust the driver in front of me not to lead us off the edge. It was an experience like no other: frightening, but undeniably exhilarating.

We eventually reached the bottom, removed the tape from our lights, and parked in a large lot on the desert floor where we’d gotten permission to stay till morning. It was a nice quiet night. We looked up at the sky with renewed appreciation.

Upon waking, we discovered a 4x4 motorhome truck parked next to us. The owners were a German couple who had built their conversion in Germany and shipped it to Patagonia, Arizona. They obliged our interest by showing us their truck, and we did the same with our home. We exchanged names, stories, and more. Carol gave them some home-baked banana bread. They gave us a Black Forest Cuckoo Clock.

With the previous night’s splendor still swirling through our minds, it was hard not to feel a bit sentimentally cosmic, in tune with how the back roads led us here, connecting us to fellow travelers from across the sea, uniting us under an endless expanse of stars and celestial bodies, invisible now in the daylight of a bright desert sun.

Kitt Peak National Observatory

Elizabeth Keller

Don’t Forget to Look Up

by Manuela Dumay

Looking up by chance

And behold the clouds’ dance Feeling suddenly free

The Messenger

by Manuela Dumay

So much looking forward with every footstep. Gut memory rising as I walked up to Tibradden Cairn, treading the path after so many years.

So long ago and yet the very same emotion. Wanted to see again this wild abode where you loved me and I loved you. A timeless embrace in a timeless place overlooking Dublin Bay, and the city down below, so far away. Our first time.

When suddenly he appeared, or rather, I noticed him. Wise, and looking a little old with a missing antler.

Lost in a fight, surely. A lifetime.

Is it yourself, my love?

Sika Deer in Dublin Mountains, April 2023

A Knock on My Office Door

by Elise Hanson

For someone who puts a lot of trust in the universe, I knew I was bound for an adventure one way or another.

I feel like I’m always planning my next getaway, usually a solo trip so I can do exactly what I want without compromise. I was leaning towards the thought of a road trip. Ideally, I’d fly somewhere, rent a car, and have a week to do nothing but hike, explore, drive, eat, sleep, repeat. Forever daydreaming of sitting amongst pine trees and lakes in the sun, I was trying to envision myself in a place like Utah or British Columbia, but no route felt right. Rather than heading someplace random that hadn’t spoken to me, I waited for something to scream my name. I wanted the feeling of my intuition guiding me somewhere. I was holding out for a push.

What I wasn’t expecting, one Tuesday morning, was for the universe to knock on my office door. “How would you like to pick up a van in Portland and drive it back here?” I was asked. Okay, not by the universe, but my coworker, Frank. The class B RV needed some service done to it in our facility. “When?” I asked. “Tomorrow?” Frank’s voice was somewhat troubled, like there was a chance I might say no. Maybe it was the less than 24 hour notice, or the fact that it takes around 35 hours to drive from Portland, Oregon, to Cleveland, Ohio. Still, I wanted to blurt out “Yes!” but I remembered I had more things than usual planned that week. I was supposed to take a day off to spend time with family from out of town. We also had two other coworkers on vacation who trusted me to keep their work flowing. On one

shoulder I heard a little voice whispering “how irresponsible of you to leave when you made those commitments?” On the other shoulder, I heard a bigger voice exclaiming, “It’s okay to lean on others, no one would expect you to pass up this opportunity just to watch the front desk from 3-5 p.m. on a Thursday.” I recognized this opportunity as the sign I’d been waiting for. I booked my flight that day. Everyone who heard about the trip was calling me crazy, which, to me, sounded like I was on the right path.

This unplanned road trip opened the door to many small, serendipitous moments. I got the chance to return to one of my favorite locations, Mount Hood, and visit their Goodwill Superstore. I found the shoes I’d been manifesting - a pair of Sorel oxfords to wear to the office when it’s too hot for boots. I’m someone who stops at every thrift store I come across, at home and especially on my travels. At more typical thrift stores, I’ve found a Vitamix blender, Breville espresso machine, and even a wetsuit. However, I’ll never forget when I first discovered Goodwill Outlets, also known as “Bins”, where the never-ending rotation of tables piled up with donated items are ready to be sorted through, then charged by weight. Once, I found a backpack that could fold up and fit in a pocket which, tucked inside of it, was a mosquito net fit for a hammock. I compare the feeling of shopping here to collecting shells on a beach. There’s a technique to it, there’s mystery, and there’s the aspect of things just falling into your lap, like they were made for you.

I experienced a nostalgic drive past the exact trees where, years ago, friends and I parked at a lookout spot to dance around, watch the setting sun color the sky pink, and take tons of photos, one of which became the background of my phone from then on. I had been visiting my friend, Cece, who was living in Portland, Oregon. I’d invited my coworker at the time, Emilia, who was also itching for a vacation, since Cece still had to work while I was there. It was this week that Emilia and I truly discovered we’d be lifelong friends. We both found ourselves opting for the less glamorous style of travel. We slept in our cars to be able to watch the sunrise on the ocean, ran through hiking trails so we could pack in as much as possible, and chose a seven hour layover in Denver, Colorado for a chance to see just one more city.

My instincts were right. We’ve now been on four annual trips together.

My mom, who had lately been asking me to bring her along on one of my trips, flew out to Jackson Hole to experience Grand Teton National Park with me. It was her first trip with me in an RV from my job. Growing up, we had a very large class C RV, but when camping became only as frequent as once a year, we resorted to sleeping in tents to free up some space in the driveway. It was pretty magical driving around the Tetons during sunset together and rolling into a parking spot with a view of the mountains. I could tell she had a good time by the long sigh and the words “This filled my cup.”

While parked at a trailhead in Wyoming, a couple knocked on my driver side door to inquire about what to look for in choosing a

camper. In speaking to each other, we found out they were hometown neighbors with my friend from college, Jenna. It was during this interaction with strangers that I could tell my mom was enjoying the trip, because she immediately swept in and gave them a tour of the RV herself.

We chose what I thought was a random campsite in Vedauwoo Recreation Area in Wyoming’s Medicine Bow-Routt National Forest. What I knew at the time was it was in a recreational rock climbing spot. What I discovered later was it is a popular spot for people at my gym to take trips. The images I’ve seen on signs covering the gym walls, and videos looping on the TVs are from this lucky find of a “random” campsite. Having only enough time to pass through overnight, I didn’t get to unravel the mystery of why people at my gym frequent this place so much when there are so many other places to climb. I knew I’d have to go back someday, but with gear next time.

I’m still living in the place where I grew up. Don’t get me wrong, being near family as I’m becoming a first-time aunt is the place to be, for now. But as someone with an adventurous spirit, that thought can send me into a crisis from time to time. My favorite thing about this most recent trip is that it made the world feel a little less big. Most of what crosses my mind every day is all the places I want to visit, who is traveling where, and what reasons I can find to fly to another country. On this unplanned trip, everything had the excitement of the unexpected. I was able to experience multiple cities/states on my bucket list in under a week. I answered the call of the universe, and it has helped me be content with where I am, for a little while longer. Until the next adventure comes knocking.

Overlap

by Madeline C. Lanshe

Have you ever stumbled into a fairy tale?

A soft-haired, blonde-maned pony in a field of flowers

A solitary castle tower

One page in an epic story?

Perhaps you fell into a waiting painting?

Swirling colors blended over a canvas white and pure

An image paused

Dreamt, or from memory?

Or is this the set of a movie scene?

A painted blue sky backdrop, a scripted story

And “Action”

What role do you play?

DRIFTWOOD

A sculpture of wood on the beach

There one year

Reflections

Waves washing over twisted arms

Mike Neundorfer

Branches turned to roots buried in the sand

Shadows

There years later

A part of the landscape

Beyond the Magazinee

Born and raised in Paris, France, Manuela Dumay is a translator and writer. She spent a lot of time in Ireland during her adolescence and since then. She is a published author of several literary translations, literary articles, and two personal works. She has completed her third book. She now makes her living as a guest house owner in the historical district of Le Mans, France.

Instagram: @ logis_saint_flaceau

Elise Hanson started working at Advanced RV initially for data analysis, and now plays a key role in quality checking and video editing. Before ARV, she worked at an urban hydroponics farm in Cincinnati, a smoothie shop in Hawaii, and an off-grid hostel in Australia. Her recent hobbies have been dragging her coworkers to climb with her, training for a half marathon, yoga, and 35mm film photography.

Madeline Lanshe is a writer from Green, Ohio, with a passion for traveling, rock climbing, photography, and getting lost in the night sky. She taught English for two years in Le Mans, France, which now feels like her second home. She works at Advanced RV as editor-in-chief of Ethnosphere, as well as in media production. Besides dreams of becoming a published fiction author, Madeline is a volleyball addict. She believes life is about collecting moments of magic wherever you go and immersing yourself in the things that light your heart on fire.

Instagram: @mudpuddlephotogrpahy51

Dave and Carol Munro retired from the marina and boat building business 13 years ago when they were in their mid 70’s. They have been avid boaters most of our lives. They have owned motor homes since 1967 and traveled about 1.5 million miles throughout the US, Mexico, and Canada. They love traveling back roads and living life to the fullest.

Madeline C. Lanshe

Submissions

Who can submit? Anyone! If you have access to our magazine, we’d love to hear from you.

What should I submit? Anything creative and relevant that can be shared in digital form! Photography, illustrations, poetry, short stories, personal stories, art, etc.

Why do you accept submissions? This magazine is a space for people to share their stories and passions in hopes it will connect us with others in a positive, uplifting way. “The ethnosphere is humanity’s great legacy. It is the product of our dreams, the embodiment of our hopes, the symbol of all that we are and all that we have created as a wildly inquisitive and astonishingly adaptive species.” - Wade

Davis

When can I submit? In each issue, we will reveal the theme for the coming issue. If you’d like your proposal to be considered for the coming issue, submit as soon as you can to give us time to review it with our team, communicate with you, edit, and fit it into the greater picture of the magazine. Otherwise, submit anything at any time. It may fit in a future issue or even inspire the theme for one!

How do I submit? Go to the submissions page of ethnospheremagazine.com and fill out the form. If possible, attach any images, PDFs or other files to be reviewed, and the editor will be in touch with you. If you have a story that you think would make for a great article, but you don’t have the narrative prowess to write it, don’t worry! There is an opportunity for a conversation with the editor so that she, or someone on the editorial staff, could write the story with you.

If your submission is not accepted, don’t get discouraged. There is always a chance in the future. In the meantime, we hope you enjoy all that the magazine has to offer. Even if you are not featured within it, your experiences, dreams, and creations are equally part of the Ethnosphere.

Coming in September: Issue 10

Vedriti

Slovenian (v) : to shelter from the rain

Le Mans, France - Madeline C. Lanshe