We arrive at La Posa South, south of Quartzsite, Arizona, in time to celebrate a late Thanksgiving dinner with my brother Rollie and his fiance, Tata. A few days later they park their Class A next to us, which allows for daily morning coffee together and the sharing of news and activities.
The first days here are centered around reorganizing cupboards and drawers, as being here for the winter means we have a lot of stuff to keep tidy and organized, and Clifford is focused on getting antennas up for his ham radio. Other than that, I go for daily walks, exploring the desert around us, especially enjoying taking photos at sunrise and sunset.
The wind is an issue, but we spend as much time outside as possible and set up a nice space by the largest of the mesquite trees at our camping spot, planning for sun, shade, privacy, and protection from the wind. One must be flexible!
Even though I had been posting a daily “Higher Vibration” photo every single day for well over a year, the last month has caused too much disruption in my life, so I’m not keeping track of the days any longer, but I do post a photo on social media almost every day. There is almost always something on the daily meanderings that is worthy of being considered a “Higher Vibration.”
The awareness of my surroundings gives me more appreciation for the desert, as well as appreciation for life itself. I can only hope that I am drawing good vibes, not only to myself, but to the whole world.
By mid-November, my daughter Katie, who has been here for the past week, returns to her family and business in Idaho. I have so enjoyed and appreciated having her company and all that she has done to support me in recovery from a stroke earlier this month.
My life feels different, even though in most ways it is not obvious, even to people who see me often. I can walk, talk, write, use my cell phone, cook meals, do laundry, and so on. Playing the viola, a newer skill in my life, has suffered. Fortunately, cello (over 50 years of synapses in place) is still fine. The new hiking sticks I ordered arrive and I can go for longer walks by myself with greater assurance. Town is not an interesting place to walk and the wind is annoying, but walking is an essential part of recovery, so I do it. It should be more interesting to walk when we are camped in the Arizona desert.
Our route has been modified from southeast Arizona being the destination to Quartzsite in southwest Arizona, the reason being that I have to wear a heart monitor that sends signals via cell service. Across the Navajo Reservation and in the regions of southeast Arizona where we had planned to go, there is no cell service. Better to be where we know our way around. Maybe southeast Arizona in the spring.
There is a dusting of snow the day before our planned departure shortly before Thanksgiving, but by the following morning, the weather looks favorable for travel. We finish packing and are on our way by late morning. Abajo Mountain looks pretty with its dusting of snow.
Due to Covid, travelers are not welcome to stop on the reservation, so our first day is a long haul from Monticello to a forest road just north of Flagstaff, Arizona.
It is a relief to arrive at the forest road and get set up for the night.
It is 21 degrees the next morning, Thanksgiving morning.
Clifford makes us breakfast and then we head for tonight’s destination, Badger Springs parking area just off I-17 between Flagstaff and Phoenix, trashy, but convenient. Shortly after we arrive, several emergency vehicles, including three fire engines, come in and head on up the road to the springs. And then a helicopter flies in. Something happened up there in the canyon, but we never did learn what. Thanksgiving dinner is about as simple as can be, but we appreciate it none-the-less.
The following day, we make it to our winter destination, La Posa South, south of Quartzsite, Arizona. As we are driving in toward the camping area, my brother Rollie and his fiance Tata just happen to see us go by, so we have a rendezvous while we look for a campsite. The site we had the last years has been claimed by someone else, so we find another one further along the wash with a tree (a very important consideration in picking a site) and even though it is a bit close to the road, we are grateful for the tree, actually a couple of them, and get set up – home for the winter.
The first week of November is especially busy as Clifford wraps up the CI project he is working on, including an online presentation of Carnicom Institute Disclosure Project. I am busy packing Cougar and getting house and yard ready for us to be gone for the winter. When time allows, I continue editing for a couple of authors, post a daily Higher Vibration photo and publish blogs on my website. We plan to leave either Friday or Saturday the first weekend of November, heading for southern Arizona for the winter, but the forecast for 40-60 mph hour winds may delay our departure. We still hope to beat the first snow storms.
Friday is much too windy for us to leave, and Saturday, Long Story Short, I have a stroke. It is not scary or painful really, but potentially extremely serious. Fortunately, Clifford is there when it happens, notices something is quite wrong and gets me to the hospital in Monticello within a short time. After a couple of CAT scans, I am given a medication to break down clots. The docs want to airlift me to a bigger hospital in Provo, but with the wind and snow, it is not possible, nor is ground transport available due to ice over the pass between between Monticello and Provo.
It is all a bit odd. I don’t know what month it is, can’t walk heel to toe, I am chilled and have a headache, but otherwise I feel okay. In the morning a flight is arranged in a small fixed-wing plane, and I am soon in the big hospital. During the flight, I want to look out the window, but I am strapped onto a stretcher and can’t move much. At the hospital, more tests, IV’s, many helpful caring people all doing their job as if I am important enough to matter to them. Clifford has gotten hold of my daughters, so the family knows what is going on.
I am happy that my room has a large window and what I really want to do is get up and look out the window and take photos of the snow on the mountains around Provo. However, I am not allowed to even stand up, let alone walk to the window, without a nurse with me. By the next day, I am allowed to sit in the chair nearer the window, eat meals, and walk the halls with assistance. There a steady stream of caregivers coming to my room, from neurologists to housekeepers, and everyone is kind and helpful.
The days blend together, but on Wednesday, my daughter Katie, who has flown from northern Idaho to Provo, rents a car and comes to the hospital to take care of my discharge and drive me back to Monticello.
For the next week, she takes care of meals and dishes, while Clifford continues with his activities. It is absolutely delightful to have her here. We walk around town, as I am supposed to walk every day.
One day we go on an outing to Newspaper Rock and to the Visitor’s Center at the southern entrance to Canyonlands NP. We even go for a hike at the Pothole Trail. I need to hold onto her arm for the ups and downs of the uneven terrain, but all in all, I do okay, and it is a beautiful fun outing.
The days go by quickly and I am sorry to see her leave, but she has a business and a family waiting for her back in Idaho. I receive some assistance from Home Health Care, but for he most part, I resume my usual activities and chores. Clifford and I plan our leave-taking of Monticello, albeit with a different route to accommodate the changed circumstances. Things are different, but I am ever-so-grateful to be alive, as well as grateful that I can walk and talk and do all the things that I do.
After my brother Rollie and his fiance Tata arrive in their motorhome and set up alongside our backyard fence in early October, in addition to shared meals and music, they help with a couple of home repair projects. Rollie is especially handy with that kind of stuff, and it is nice to have some of these projects taken care of.
We also walk out to US highway 491 coming into Monticello from the east, a block away, so I can show them the banners of the Community Beautification Project, four of which feature photos that I submitted.
Our next outing is a trip over Abajo Mountain to visit Newspaper Rock. For this outing, I go with Rollie and Tata in their jeep while Clifford stays in Monticello to work on the CI Disclosure Project. Our first stop is the view point on the north slope, followed by a stop at Foy Lake where the autumn foliage is especially colorful. From there we continue on to the junction with state highway 211, which leads to the southern entrance of Canyonland National Park.
However, we are only going as far as Newspaper Rock, where we, like other visitors, admire the numerous petroglyphs that were etched into the rock face at the base of the cliff hundreds of years ago. One has to wonder about the ancient tribes and the communication that still remains.
Along nearby Indian Creek, we find a small road that offers a picnic spot with a view of the creek, the colorful rocks and the autumn foliage.
This is an especially delightful stop, and we take our time enjoying our food and the scenery before heading back to Monticello.
Early in October, my brother Rollie and his fiance Tata arrive in their motorhome and set up alongside our backyard fence.
The next couple of weeks are filled with numerous shared meals, great wine, several outings to the mountain, going places in their jeep that would not be possible with Suburban, and music either inside or out almost every day.
Our first outing is a trip up Abajo Mountain to Pine Flats where Clifford and I camped during he summer.
The jeep trail takes us through the aspen forests rich with color.
After a picnic, we get out our instruments and play a few bluegrass tunes.
In the mid afternoon, while there is still sunlight on the mountain, we head back down. There is a stand of maple on the lower slopes that is especially brilliant and I want to catch them before the sun gets too low.
Clifford continues his work on the Carnicom Institute Disclosure Project, but I’ve done all that I can for that, so I am free to go on outings with Rollie and Tata for picnics and sight-seeing.
Back in Monticello, there are no long morning walks visiting forest tree and flower friends. The trees in and around the yard can be counted on one hand: two pines and three spruce. Two tall deciduous stand at opposite corners of the lot, but outside the fence. Perhaps they are technically on two neighboring properties, but I claim both trees as mine and tell them how lovely they are. I doubt that anyone else is doing that.
Being back in town, the daily routine is very different and the tasks not worth mentioning except that Clifford has started on this segment of the CI Legacy Project and my part in it is to take a hand-written transcript of a three-hour talk that he gave at a conference in Santa Fe April 2019, get it into a digital format and then edit like crazy. Kudos to our friend who took the time to make the hand-written transcript from an audio file of the conference.
There are three things of interest during the first two weeks of September. One is trip up Abajo Mountain for a picnic. We are delighted that the spot were we had camped is free. We have a tasty picnic and then play music – Clifford with dulcimer, me on viola – feeling right at home.
The second thing is that a Canadian cold front drops our daytime temperatures from the mid-ninety’s to a high of 39 on September 9. It snows all day long and I have the rare opportunity to take photos of trees covered with snow. Even after the cold front moves on, there is no doubt that autumn has arrived.
The third thing is that I found out by chance that an editorial I submitted to the local newspaper, Abajo Mountain – Our Backyard Treasure, was printed in its entirety along with several photos from the blog. In my daily walks while we were camped on the mountain, I picked up trash every day and observed damage done to the forest by careless visitors and campers. I wrote a blog/editorial in praise of the treasure that we have, pointing out that some people are disregarding all the etiquette of being a good visitor to the mountains. I was very pleased that the newspaper printed the editorial.
Although I loved being on the mountain, while we are here in Monticello, we take advantage of the conveniences that our home base has to offer.
I go on longer morning walks these last days of August, since I know they will be my final opportunities to spend time in the forest.
We play music in the afternoons, sometimes zoom with the UK group, sometimes Clifford has other groups, or we each work on our own instruments. With the UK group I play viola, but on my own, I play cello, enjoying pieces that I’ve just touched on over the years. I have thoughts of playing in the little park across from the post office, so want to have a few pieces worked up in case I actually try doing that.
Rain showers in the afternoon are a welcome relief to the dry conditions here on the mountain.
On the 30th, since I am up before Clifford, I go for a final morning walk, but close to camp, heading off in a direction I didn’t often go, then around to say good-bye to Bertha, one of the Mother Trees I’ve enjoyed visiting. Back at camp, after breakfast, we pack up with some reluctance and head down the mountain, back to home-base and the Carnicom Institute tasks that Clifford has set up for himself.
While the word is in turmoil with covid, hurricanes, wildfires, and rioting in the cities, we have been at peace on the mountain. It is my hope that this sense of peace will remain with us as we go forward.
August 21th to 25th – Our place on the mountain is peaceful except for the occasional ATVs and motorcycles that come down our road. The world, however, seems to be in more and more of a turmoil.
My morning walks are a special time I really enjoy and I go far afield from the original loop road. I have walked here enough that I can go any direction and not worry about finding my way back. My biggest concern is the archery hunters, but hopefully I don’t look like a deer or elk to anyone. I have made up a game “forest pick-up sticks” where I have to make my way through the densest forest without stepping over deadfall, pushing through bushes, or bending under low tree branches. It’s just a bit of silliness, but it is also about awareness of how and where I am walking. Oh yes, no stepping on wildflowers.
I enjoy playing my cello outside and Clifford likewise spends as much time as he can playing his dulcimer outside. We both play with a music group in UK via zoom (I use viola for that) and Clifford also plays and sings with three other groups. While zoom doesn’t take the place of meeting in person for those who are no longer able to because of covid, for us it is opportunity to play with others that we would not otherwise have.
On the world front: there are two hurricanes, Marco and Laura, coming into the Gulf of Mexico and they are expected to cause much havoc. At the same time, wildfires are increasing in California, while those in Colorado have not abated. Even in Montana, my sister sees smoke coming up from the ridge of the Sapphire Mountains behind their home.
Discord, controversy, and contradictions on covid protocol continue due to lack of knowledge and outright deceptions in regard to the illness.
For my part, I try to focus on what I can personally do to make a difference, and that is why I persist daily with my Higher Vibration Photo Series.
Each photo and the words that come to me are meant to uplift the viewer, to bring a drop of light into the vale of darkness. It might not see like much in the face of all that surrounds us, but it is something valid and real, and I trust that in the larger scheme of things, each photo and each sentiment makes a difference for good in the world.
These are good days on Abajo Mountain. Our daytime temperatures are in the low 80’s, while in town they are mid-90’s, as I discover when I go down to do laundry and run errands.
The morning walks continue to be a source of outer peace so that I am better able to experience inner peace. As one wildflower fades from the scene, another takes its place and now I see thistles sporting their beautiful purple.
A highlight of these days is a visit from a friend who also lives in Utah. It was quite the delight to have him visit us on the mountain, and I even got to ride on his fancy motorcycle from the entrance of the dispersed area to our out-of-the way cul d sac. Such good conversation. It sure would be great to have get-togethers more often.
A low point for me is a discussion with Clifford as we finally decide for certain that a trip to Montana is not going to happen this summer: mostly covid, but also finances and our aging Suburban are factors. This is a great disappointment to me, but I do understand the thinking behind the decision. Great advice from one of my daughters is to have a Knowing that I will see loved ones in the future and hold that thought with joy.
We who live in Monticello or nearby have a treasure in our backyard. Abajo Mountain with its variety of trees and shrubs and flowers, campgrounds, dispersed camping areas, mountain roads and jeep trails, “lakes,” and views provides something for everyone.
At 9,000 feet, Pine Flats where we picnic or camp is delightfully cooler in the summer than the valley below, let alone the canyon lands. A myriad of roads, sometimes rocky or rutted, lead to spots where a bit of privacy can be found, surrounded by scrub oak or shaded by great pine trees. Stands of aspen add their graceful beauty and ambiance to any stopping point.
We have camped at Dalton Springs Campground and picnicked in the late autumn at Buckboard Campground when all campers are gone. The autumn-colored aspens on a clear fall day are quite the delight, even though sometimes it has been so chilly that we’ve ended sitting in the car for our picnic.
A picnic at Monticello Lake is a treat for us, since bodies of water or streams are a bit of a luxury in Utah. Fishermen certainly seem to appreciate Monticello, Lloyd, and Foy Lakes for their own reasons.
The paved route over the north slope of Abajo is a most enjoyable and scenic way to make a trip to Newspaper Rock and on to the southern entrance to Canyonlands National Park.
With all this being said, not all those who go up the mountain are aware of their responsibility as stewards of the land. When we are camping, I walk daily, sometimes on the jeep trails, sometimes on game trails, and I always come back with a bag of trash I’ve picked up due to the carelessness of others. Beer cans and soda cans, tinfoil, broken glass, and so on are found even in remote spots as well as along the roads and in campfire rings.
Messy half-burned trash is ugly and attracts flies and rodents. This thoughtlessness is inexplicable, as are the ruts left by those who choose to go off-road to tear around in the forest just because they can, not because it is good for the land. The ground layer here in the forests, especially where the wild iris grow, is fragile and easily damaged.
Even with signs prohibiting campfires during these hot dry summer months, there are campfires being built, which seems rather irresponsible and potentially dangerous under the current conditions.
We are fortunate to have Abajo only a few miles from town. Being respectful of this mountain and what it has to offer is a must for EVERYONE! “Pack it in – Pack it out” is a good start. Be mindful of forest fire season and refrain from campfires. Stay on the roads and don’t go making tracks through the forest (or other people’s campsites) with ATV’s, motorbikes, and high-clearance vehicles. Loud music and loud generators are not appropriate, especially at night. Being considerate of others and being good stewards of this land is not too much to ask of any of us.
Come and enjoy the mountain, the jeep trails, the picnic and camping spots, the fishing.
Most especially, be mindful of the beauty that is here on Abajo Mountain. Treasure the treasure that we have!