Wednesday August 13th: Our plan is to join Katie and family for an outing to a baseball game this evening. Clifford has an important call to make at a designated time, and we have errands to run, so we leave camp as soon as we can. It is a weird day where almost nothing goes as scheduled, except for Clifford’s phone call while I visit with Mom. A heavy thunderstorm changes our plans for the evening; no baseball game for us. Just as well, as I am feeling beyond exhausted as we drive back out to the campground. The thunder-storm left twigs, small branches, and old dead trees strewn about, as well as dampening everything inside the Pony around all the windows, which had been left open. It has been hot and dry since early July. How were we to know that today was the day that the pattern would change. Luckily we have dry sleeping bags in the Blazer; other than the pillows being a bit damp, we have dry sleeping accommodations.
Thursday August 14th: It is raining and pleasantly cool. After awhile the clouds part a bit, allowing sunshine to come and go throughout the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. I do a walkabout to take photos of droplets
before I set up a chair and table where I can look down the path to the creek.
I just sit, allowing myself to be nurtured by nature: a still pool of water,
trees and shrubs in many shades of green with leaves, needles, and fronds only gently stirring as little breeze fairies move among them,
the creek with its musical sounds, the sunshine coming and going,
birds chirping. I just sit and take it in. I write in my journal and then walk down to the creek to take more photos
Another walkabout browsing for June berries, more nurturing by nature.
Later, lying in the hammock, the thought crosses my mind that this is the way to have my body laid to rest rather than burial or cremation. No fear or pain this way. In the quiet of the moment I think sadly of my youngest son. What really happened to him I’ll probably never know – a burden of this life.
The afternoon brings a big thunderstorm. We stand under the awning relishing the power of nature and all the goodness of the rain, gathering several quarts of water as it runs off the awning to supplement our water supply.
Trout Creek in August – Part 1
We are mid-way in our triple move. Sorting, packing, cleaning, moving, unpacking, more sorting, more cleaning. It seems endless. It actually started over a year ago when we decided to move to from New Mexico to Idaho. Now the moves are local, which makes it less of a big deal in some ways, but the physical and mental overload is similar. The store, Rocky Mountain Organics, is closed and everything has been moved and the space cleaned – so we are pretty much done with that one. The Carnicom Institute has been packed up and moved across town, the old space cleaned, but the unpacking has yet to begin. Hundreds of books need to find their way to shelves again and all the lab equipment and gear needs to be set up and made functional – so we are only halfway through this one. The other move involves leaving the cute house we have lived in for almost a year and moving two doors down and to an upstairs apartment that has needed lots of love and attention for a long time. We are mostly moved out of the other house, but not entirely. Moving the rest of our stuff and getting the place ready for either renters or hopefully a buyer still has to take place. And making our new digs work for us is part of the challenge. I am exhausted by the moving, as is Clifford along with all his concerns for the institute. So – we are taking a week off to camp by a creek and allow ourselves time to rest and be nourished by nature.
Trout Creek
Tuesday August 12th: While Clifford takes care of necessary phone calls, emails, and posts in regard to the institute, I pack for the outing and get the house (the one we are moving out of) and the apartment ready for us to be gone for a week. It is late in the afternoon by time we are ready to go. Our destination is Trout Creek Campground outside Superior. Upon arrival we are very happy to find a site with a view of the creek available.
We get the Pony set up and soon Clifford is ready to try out his new deal: a hammock.
Clifford in His New Hammock
A simple dinner, clean up, and off to bed – it is already 11:00 p.m.
We are still exploring places to camp; today we head to Trout Creek Campground near Superior, Montana. The campground is off a well-maintained forest road, alongside Trout Creek, which is the size of a small river at this time of year.
Trout Creek Looking Like a River
There are several very nice sites to choose from; we pick one that gives us good access to the picnic table and fire pit from where we can park the Pony. There is a trail from the campsite to the river through huge old cedars and dense brush. The river is clear in the shallows and deep teal where it gets deep.
Path to the River Through Old Cedars
I make nachos for dinner and we are set to eat outside by the campfire, but it starts to rain, so we head inside. After we eat, the rain lets up; we revive the fire and sit out to enjoy the still of the evening and the mild temperatures.
Sitting by the Campfire
The variable wind above us stirs some trees and not others nearby. The trees sway like graceful dancers and then grow still while other trees begin to sway as the wind comes to them in turn. It is all very lovely and peaceful. We sit out until it is too dark to see. After I head to bed, Clifford plays with his ham radio gear.
In the night I wake up with several muscle cramps in my thigh and calf. Odd, since I had not done anything to stress the muscles. Something out of balance in my body which needs to be looked in to.
In the morning, I explore our side of the campground. Very quiet here – no one else in the campground.
Clifford is Up
Clifford and I have breakfast before I get ready to head for Missoula. Today is an errand and visit family day. See Katie briefly, have lunch with Merri at the Good Food store, drive to Mom’s to see her and my sister, Lillian. So good to see these special people, even if briefly. Shop for groceries, mostly for us, some for Rocky Mountain Organics. I sure don’t enjoy Missoula traffic. Then head to Alberton to find Ang, Oden, and Aly at the community garden. We eat fresh strawberries as we weed the garden and I get a bag of fresh lettuce and some young dandelion greens to take with me. I want to see how Ang’s little house is coming along, so go out to Ed’s Creek with her. Oden rides out with me and we talk about his interest in playing the cello. Visit a bit, admiring the installation of the windows, the addition of a ladder to the loft, the beginning of a firepit, and water coming down from the spring above. I’d like to stay for dinner, but I told Clifford I would be back at our camp for dinner.
When I arrive at the campsite, Clifford has just gotten a fire started. Tonight we enjoy our dinner by the campfire and then sit out until I head to bed.
A little morning campfire and a hot cup of yerba matte with honey and coconut milk as I write in my journal is the start my Tuesday.
Morning Campfire
After breakfast I explore the other side of the campground, taking photos of the blossoming wild flowers and shrubs, most especially thimbleberry and wild roses.
Thimbleberry
More Thimbleberry
Wild Rose Duo
Single Rose
Center of Her Universe
I find one campsite where we would be able to see the river from the picnic table and still have access to the Pony set-up. I’d like to camp here next time, as being able to see moving water is one of my favorite things when we are out. Doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it is an extra special place for me. Something about being beside moving water is very life-giving, life-affirming.
Alive and Life-Affirming
Back at camp, I keep a small fire going as we read and study through the afternoon, enjoying the beautiful spot where we are camped.
Beautiful Trees Surround Us
Keeping the Fire Going
This week on my Facebook page, a site I had not joined (as far as I know) posted something that spoke volumes to me: From the site Begin with YES: “What your heart yearns for is not just a desire, it’s a calling. It’s up to you to listen and then follow. It’s your pathway, plain and simple. And profoundly beautiful, too.”
At different stages of one’s life, what one does changes: being a child growing up, reaching adulthood – doing worthwhile work and raising a family, retiring and finding meaning in old age, or for many of us continuing to work as we grow older. But somewhere hidden in there is the yearning, the calling. For much of my life beyond childhood, time and energy have been taken up with raising a family and working. Being always busy and often with extremely challenging situations masked the deep yearning which has always been there for me. As the calling began to show itself more clearly, I have done what I could to honor it, but it has still been sitting on a back burner with working and domestic chores taking the forefront. But now things are changing and it is my intention to devote myself to my calling: to seek and share beauty. I am not quite sure how this will evolve in the “real” world, but for the time-being writing blogs and posting photos of the beautiful planet will become my “job” along with and as a part of being a View Keeper – a phrase, a concept coined in a blog on Celebrate What’s Right With the World (Facebook) by my favorite photographer, Dewitt Jones, whose photos and writing have been a constant source of inspiration for me.
All too soon it is time to pack up and head home. Five stars for Trout Creek and looking forward to coming again soon with more time to devote to being where I am called to be.
Camping at Cabin City – June 29 – July 2, 2014
Clifford left on Friday to set up camp at Cabin City, luckily getting the spot we had had before that we liked, even though there were a lot of other campers here. He came ahead of me as he wanted to set up and participate in the ham radio field day on Saturday. He had a good time in spite of the rain and learned a lot about field day. There may be some interesting correlations with the chemtrail spraying and the ham radio signal quality and strength which would also apply to such things are HAARP frequencies, electromagnetic communications and weather control.
Since I’m still working at the store (Rocky Mountain Organics in Wallace, Idaho) I was not able to join him until Sunday evening. When I arrived, he had just gotten a campfire going – very nice, as the evenings do cool off and it had been rainy here much of the time since he arrived. Just as we got ready to have dinner, it started to rain again, but luckily it was short-lived and we were able to revive the campfire and enjoy heading out again. As the sun reached low to the horizon, the color through the overcast moisture-laden air created an unusual but lovely ambient color.
Ambient Evening Color
Monday was a gorgeous day… a wonderful sky with no chemtrails to mar the deep blue. An afternoon hike cross-country from our camp was sweet with the many blooming wild flowers: trillium, daisies, thistle, bluebells, buttercups, honeysuckle and others that I don’t their names.
Thistle Head
Clifford even picked a little bouquet of daisies for me which brightened our picnic table for the duration of our stay.
Daisy Bouquet
In the evening I played my cello outside, to the delight of the neighboring campers whose little daughter was learning to play the cello. As the sun went down, cool air moved in and another campfire warmed our evening.
Campfire
Tuesday proved to be another gorgeous day.
Gorgeous Blue Sky Day
We drove up the road and parked at the trailhead along Rock Creek, which might be more aptly called Brush Creek. Even though our entire hike was along the creek, we seldom saw it due to the dense brush. As we hiked, we saw signs of wildlife: elk and deer tracks in the muddy spots on the trail and recent bear scat and many overturned rocks, a bear diligently foraging for ants. I sang a little bear song and when the thimbleberry became especially dense, Clifford got out his harmonica and played a few tunes. I have never seen so much thimbleberry; it was thick and tall, frequently as tall as me, obscurring the trail. Hard hiking for me, but at least the trail was relatively level.
Thimbleberry
I especially enjoyed the many wildflowers. In addition to the variety seen yesterday, there was also brilliant red Indian paint brush, honey suckle, delphinium just beginning to bloom, and many others.
Indian Paint Brush
Honeysuckle
Once we were satisfactorily hot and sweaty from hiking, we found a shady spot under a big old douglas fir where we found seat-size needle-covered rocks and a respite from the brush and thimbleberry. We enjoyed a little snack of an apple and a tortilla while we rested in the shade. The mountains behind us and across the creek from us are steep and often rock-faced. Clifford talked about some of the experiences of surveyors in these type of conditions, both his experiences as a surveyor and the experiences of others, especially in the 1800’s when the idea from the “powers-that-be” in the east ordered the surveying of the west in preparation for the settling of the land, having no idea that some of this land could not be settled. Some very hardy brave souls had taken on the task of surveying and one has to wonder how many of them were injured or died in the process.
The Trail Along Rock Creek
Ice and food is running a bit low, as we had not originally planned to stay until Wednesday, but we come up with a good meal none-the-less and enjoy the evening by the campfire.
Wednesday morning – I make a little campfire, not so much because it is chilly out, but because I enjoy the comfy ambiance of it while I drink a cup of tea and write in my journal. Today we will have to pack up and head home to obligations, but we are grateful for the time we have spent here being in the outdoors and for the time to read, write, think, study, and meditate. And take photos, of course!
With a four-day weekend ahead of us, I get up early enough to have a quiet cup of tea before I start packing for our Pony (pop-up tent trailer) trip to Villanueva State Park, about an hour’s drive to the east of us. Looks like the snow that was forecast has gone somewhere else for the weekend, leaving us with just a chilly breeze, but hey, it is mid-February, and we are going camping.
I have most everything ready by the time Clifford gets up and then it is just a matter of breakfast, dishes, and the other last-minute things before we head out. We make a little detour to the Eldorado market for bread, wine, cheese, and a hot roasted chicken for lunch. After a easy trip down the freeway to Ribera, we follow a state highway that winds its way through the countryside and through several little villages, all of which appear to be suffering from lack of resources. About 12 miles in, we arrive at the Villanueva State Park, a well-kept campground along the Pecos River with trees all around and mesas flanking both sides of the river valley.
Pecos River Reflections
We find a nice site where we can park in the sun, sit in the shade, and see the Pecos River from our front door. We get set up and enjoy our now not-so-hot chicken.
Pony by the Pecos
This weekend we get to try out our little solar panel for the first time. We are hoping to keep laptops charged and have lights to read and write by in the evenings.
Solar Panel Reflections
We have hot tea, admire the view, especially the mesa, golden in the light of the setting sun.
Golden in the Last Light
In the evening I write in my journal and Clifford studies. After darkness covers the campground, we have dinner and soon it is time to head to bed.
Saturday morning I wake with the light and get out of our warm bed, surprised at how chilly it is. Taking a look at the min/max thermometer, I see that it is 16 degrees outside and 24 degrees inside. Brrrr…… I turn on both burners of the stove and dress warmly before heading down to the outhouse. Once back at the Pony, I debate with myself about having a campfire; I mean, 16 degrees is a bit chilly, but I want to be outside. I make a hot cup of tea and decide ‘yes’ to the campfire. I have been carrying a bag of little twigs and several pieces of firewood in the back of my car all winter just waiting for a chance to have a campfire while on an outing. Soon the campfire warms the air.
Hot Fire and Hot Tea
The breeze is variable, which means the smoke blows my direction no matter where I sit or stand, making it hard to get set up to write in my journal. I put journal writing aside and just watch the dancing flames, moving from one spot to another, adding a little more wood to the fire now and then, enjoying its warmth and the hot tea.
Once the sunshine reaches us, things change quickly. By the time breakfast is ready, it is warm enough that we sit outside to eat. The sky is a beautiful blue and we are ever so grateful to be here with the river, the mesas, the trees, the breeze, and the blue sky.
Blue Sky
We have a plan to get some footage of the Pecos River for the next video we are making to feature Ang’s (my daughter) writing on You Tube. Her short story is entitled “Old River Woman” which is about the Sun River in Montana. I have photos of the Sun River, but since we are not in Montana, video of the Pecos River, which is smaller but with similarities to the Sun River, can provide the visual as well as the sounds of a flowing river. I have the idea that I can wade a ways into the river so as to appear to be the Old River Woman as she is walking out into the river. Well, the Pecos River flows right out of the Sangre de Christo Mountains where there is snow, and remember, it is mid-February even down here in the valley. I wade out several times, only shin-deep, into the painfully cold water. But the vision I have of how this will look is not the way that Clifford videos it. In the end, it is a little adventure, but not a successful video shoot of the Old River Woman.
Ice Cold River
Getting back to the Pony, dry warm socks are very welcome. After lunch, I spend the rest of the afternoon editing “Opened Gates,” the third book of the second trilogy of the Novels of Shannon, written by Ang. This is a music theory weekend for Clifford; the chemistry and biology books and even the art supplies stayed home.
Clifford Studies Music Theory
The evening passes quickly and soon we head to bed.
Sunday: I get up about the same time as yesterday and it is not nearly so cold this morning, but windy. I decide to have a campfire, anyway, and as I sit and stand and walk around to avoid the ever-changing direction of the smoke, taking numerous photos of the flames, the thought occurs to me that taking photos of a campfire is a life lesson. Although I choose the paper and wood, apply the match, and push the button on the camera, I cannot control the movement of the flames and there is an infinite variety to how the photo will turn out. Even when the fire is providing ample opportunities for an interesting photo, if I am not focused correctly, the results will not be great. That is not to say that one must hang onto a certain focus – not at all; change focus, change vantage points, change field of view, experiment, but do it with a mindfulness that brings out the best in any given situation. And be willing to sit back and enjoy the campfire, knowing that flames are constantly in flux and so is life.
Dancing Flames
Today, even though it is warmer, we eat breakfast inside because of the breeze. I do some editing of Opened Gates before we go for a hike. Today we hike up to the overlook on the mesa to the east.
Hiking Up Loop Trail
One interesting spot along the trail is the stone enclosure for the sheep or goats of the people who lived here in times past.
Stone Enclosure
Instead of hiking the loop, the trail along the top of the mesa overlooking the river and campground below, which we have done several times, we go exploring the opposite direction, following a wide path that may have been a road at one time.
Exploring on the Mesa
Juniper, yucca, and dull reddish rocks dominate the landscape. When we return to the shelter, we have cheese and crackers for a snack before heading back down the trail.
View From the MesaPecos River Valley in Winter
Since I stop to take photos so often, Clifford gets ahead and then waits for me.
Clifford Waiting
After lunch, I continue editing while Clifford keeps on with music theory. Before we know it, the daylight fades, dinner is done, and we head to our comfy bed for a good sleep.
Come Monday morning, our time is more limited, so I forego the campfire. I make tea and write in my journal at the table until Clifford gets up. After breakfast we work on our projects, editing and music theory, for a bit and then head out for another hike. This time we are hiking up the El Cerro Trail, which takes us to the top of the mesa to the west.
Clifford on the El Cerro Trail
This is the first time we’ve been on this trail. Quite a different view and a really cool rocky outcropping where we hang out for awhile. Clifford plays his harmonica while I take photos, loving the beautiful blue skies this morning.
Harmonica ManExpansive ViewMesa Grass
Back at camp, we have lunch and all too soon it is time to pack up and head home.
Ready to Roll
We are grateful for the chance to get away from the routine, grateful for the great weather, grateful to renew and refresh ourselves by spending time outdoors. Before we arrive home, we are already contemplating where we will go on our next Pony outing.
It was exactly one month ago that we passed this way, camping overnight at the Three Rivers National Petroglyph Site, on our way to Carlsbad Caverns.
At the Petroglyph Site
It was my intention to do an inventory of the greeting cards that I sell at the Three Rivers Trading Post and Gallery, but the gift shop was closed both coming and going from the campsite. Cold wind followed us all the way south.
So, now a month later, with the temperatures moderating from what they were, we make another trip to Three Rivers, only this time we decided to go all the way into the Three Rivers Campground which is located at the foot of the Sacramento Mountains on the border of the White Mountain Wilderness. This is one of most favorite places to camp, and this time of the year, there is almost no one else here.
We arrive late afternoon on Friday and are greeted at the sign-in kiosk by John, the camp host, who has been here for 20 years. We met him on our first trip to this campground at least 12 years ago and as always, find him to be friendly and welcoming. We are sad to hear that he will be leaving Three Rivers in May. Very unfriendly federal regulations are changing the way things have been done, so John and his family will be moving on after all these years of service.
We get the Pony (our small pop-up made by the Palomino Company) set up before dark
Pony is Set Up
and soon the interior is arranged with sleeping quarters at one end, food, dishes, clothing, books, and laptops on the other end. In the middle are our table and benches, stove, and sink. We are set for a comfortable weekend.
The evening passes quickly with journal writing (me), studying (Clifford), and dinner. Before we head to bed, we spend a little time poring over the Adventure Atlas, seeing the many tiny green tents that indicate places we might want to visit someday.
Saturday morning, as the first light of the day wakens me, I get up, pull sweats on and a long coat, grab my camera, and head out the door. I first go down to the creek and am delighted to find water flowing.
The Creek Still Flows
A year ago Thanksgiving when we were here, the creek had all but dried up, thanks (but no thanks) to the drought in New Mexico. I tromp along the rock-strewn creek, crisscrossing by stepping from boulder to boulder, taking photos of reflections on the pools.
Reflections on the Creek
During spring run-off, the creek has more water and is actively tumbling over its rock bed, but now, it is a series of little pools connected by a gently meandering stream of water.
Then I follow a little-used gated road up to the top of a nearby hill. From here I have a great view all around: the White Mountain Wilderness to the east immediately behind the campground,
White Mountain Wilderness
the yucca-covered hill to the north; across the Tularosa Basin to the west are the San Andres Mountains – the barely-discernible pale strip at their base is White Sands Monument and Missile Range, while south looks at the foothills of the Sacramento Mountains across the plains toward Tularosa and Alamogordo. I am hoping to get some light on the mountains as the sun clears the ridge, but the sun is hidden behind a dense overcast when it rises from behind the mountain top. After a while I head back down, picking up a few dry twigs in case I decide to have a campfire later in the day.
Back at camp, Clifford is up and we chat with John about things we see going on in this country that could cause civil unrest, unless complacency wins out. After breakfast, we work on our projects before heading out for a hike. We hike into the wilderness, going in maybe a mile or so, enjoying the mild temperatures, the sprinkle of rain, the wildness of the landscape.
Hiking in the Wilderness
Sometime in past years, the gentle little creek has been a raging river tearing down the mountainside, displacing rocks and boulders and reshaping the land. At some point in time, a horrific wind has ripped through here snapping off dozens or huge pine trees. Today, there is only a gentle breeze and the creek is charming flow of water.
Gently Flowing Creek
We see lots of fresh elk tracks and come upon a recently dead elk, antlers still intact, though his flesh has been the meal for many a creature of the forest. Rather than being offended by the remaining smell, I try to see the cycles of nature in the remains. Other odd smells make us wonder if sasquatch live here. Hmmmmm…………….
We finish out the day with tending to meals and our projects, the evening project for Clifford being drawing and for me, writing and editing. Sprinkles of rain and the wind picking up make us very glad for the comfort of the Pony.
Sunday morning light draws me outside and again I hike up the gated road for the views and some photos of the morning light hitting a nearby hill and the San Andres Mountains to the west.
Sunlight on the Hill
Back at camp, I am reluctant to confine myself to the Pony, so I decide to make a campfire in the fire ring. A cheery campfire provides a warm spot to write in my journals while I wait the coming of warmth of sunshine. Beautiful cumulus clouds float against a blue sky, sunshine coming and going. After Clifford makes breakfast, it is all-too-soon time to begin packing up.
On our way back out to the highway, we stop at the Santo Nino Atocha Chapel, a remote Catholic chapel nestled in at the base of the Godfrey Hills, dedicated to the Holy Child of Antioch.
Santo Nino Atocha Chapel
I take photos of the chapel before heading on to the Three Rivers Trading Post, where I do the greeting card inventory. Then we head on down the road, arriving home after dark, already looking forward to our next road trip in the Pony.
