Sunday April 26: Some of our homes on the road have been hard to leave, but we are eager to say good-bye to civilization, even with its conveniences, and get back to our journey. The brief stays in Sunriver and Ashland were important layovers, both in terms of the connections that were made as well as the increased awareness of environmental issues for those who come to hear Clifford speak. We are grateful for the individuals and groups who invited us to be with them on our route through Oregon. But the trees and the rivers and the oceans beckon us and onward we go.
I make tea for the to-go cups and take cheese, crackers, and apples out of the cooler for us to eat as we travel rather than taking time for breakfast this morning. Doesn’t take us long to get the Pony (our pop-up tent trailer) ready for the road since we had just done a modified setup yesterday and we are soon on the road. We head to Grants Pass, taking the slower scenic highway along the Rogue River. It is a lovely drive, lots of trees of all sorts, many of them in bloom.
Many trees and shrubs are in bloom
After we reach Grants Pass, we head southwest on highway 99 toward Crescent City, California. I think about my friend, Cyril, who lives in Grants Pass, but since we didn’t know when we would get here, I didn’t try to make connections. I hope he is well and happy.
We catch glimpses of the Smith River in the ravine below as the road becomes more narrow and winding. Lush vegetation carpets the slopes of the hillsides around us.
Smith in the ravine
We arrive at our forest service campground, Panther Flat, mid-afternoon and pick a site on the side of the loop nearest the river below and furthest from the highway. The sites here are well-spaced and there is an abundance of shrubs and small trees amidst the towering Douglas fir, tall straight not-giant redwoods – a mere 100 feet tall, and sensuous madrone trees.
A colorful shrub at Panther Flat
Once we are set up, I explore a trail from our campsite, making my way to the river below and after awhile Clifford joins me. We find a charming gravel beach right on the river’s edge. I am amazed at how crystal-clear the beautiful aqua-hued water is.
Aqua-hued Smith River
From this little gravel beach I can see cascades both up and downstream as this lively river cuts its way through rock walls, creating the gorge where we now stand.
Cascades on the Smith River
We are told by our camp host extraordinaire, Jeff, that it is the only river in California that has not been dammed or diverted. He points out a much better trail leading from the end of the loop not far from our site down to the river. This is a trail I will traverse many times over the next several days as I come down from the campsite to visit Mr. Smith.
Trail through the woods
Back at camp, we are happy to discover that our cell phones work here; I call Mom to let her know where we are. Clifford sprays more bleach to get rid of mildew spots; I should have stayed outside to let it air out much longer than I did, as I end up feeling quite ill from breathing the residue of the bleach as I set up the inside. When I go to bed, I open the zipper to the window next to my head and breathe in fresh air with the hopes that I will feel better in the morning.
Monday April 27:My head is still buzzy this morning, but a whole lot better than last night. After an exploratory walk about camp, enjoying the light filtering through the trees and photographing the wild flowers – wild iris and others that I don’t recognize, I make campfire and a French press coffee.
Morning light filtering through the trees
Campground residents
Campfire and French press coffee
Sitting at the campfire, I plan to write in my journal, but instead I spend this quiet time looking up at the wonderful tall trees that surround us.
Looking up
I feel blessed by the trees as I gaze up at them. Reminds me of what a wise woman recently said to me: it is often when we are down – through illness or other hardship – that we look up to God or Presence or whatever one wants to call that deeper sense of the Life Force, but I realize as I gaze upward that such awareness does not have to come through illness or hardship, but through being in awe of nature or beauty or whatever will bring us to that deeper appreciation of life.
After breakfast, I begin reorganizing everything in the Pony and the Blazer: clothing, food, dishes, and so on, incorporating another set of light-weight stackable drawers. What a difference this makes. I know where everything is once again.
Reorganizing the Pony
While I do my domestic nesting activity, Clifford continues his research and study.
Clifford studies while reorganization is in process
It gets quite warm this afternoon – near 80 degrees – which is quite a change from the cool weather we’ve had for the most part up to this point. We go to the nearby small village of Gasquet to get ice, as we are going to need it. After we return to the camp, we take the trail to the river and explore up and down its banks. Sitting on a boulder by the bank, I watch the slow graceful dance of the trees as they sway in the wind.
Exploring along the Smith River
What a delightful place we have found. I am so grateful to be here, grateful for the trees, the river, the pleasant weather, the pleasing campground, the comfortable bed. Tonight I sleep well.
Tuesday April 21: Today I have my last campfire here at McKay Crossing along Paulina Creek west of the Newberry National Monument in central Oregon.
Last campfire at McKay
I take photos as I say good-bye before we have breakfast and begin the packing routine.
Saying good-by to the tall ponderosa trees
and to Paulina Creek
Time to leave our McKay home
Packing takes a good three hours since we have become so settled in after being here for two weeks. Odds and ends of loose stuff go in bags; everything is packed neatly so it will all fit, but things are becoming harder to find. The next time we set up, a complete reorganization will be necessary.
Once we are finally packed, we head to the little town of Sunriver, a few miles down the highway. After a tasty lunch at the Village Bar and Grill, we find out way to Lori’s place, a sanctuary overlooking the Deschutes River.
The Deschutes River
Lori is an artist and her paintings and sculptures grace every room of her home. Some of her work reminds me of Leaning Tree cards, and indeed, as we later learn, she is one of the Leaning Tree artists.
We warm ourselves at her wood stove and then sit in the sunshine on the deck overlooking the river as we chat about the environmental issues that affect all of us; Lori speaks from the perspective of an activist and Clifford from the perspective of a researcher. It is as though we are all words on the same page, each of us contributing to the story being told – hopefully the story of a return to wholeness for the planet and all life on it.
Later, after dinner and more sharing, we listen to the frogs (or toads) as they “rivet rivet rivet” through the night.
Wednesday April 22: In the morning I admire the lovely light that warms the trees and the meadows along the river bank, but taking photos through the screen does not work, so this picture is only in my mind. I accompany Lori down to the bank where she feeds the ducks, some domestic and a pair of mallards.
Lori feeding the ducks
After breakfast, Clifford has a radio interview with a local station and then we take some time to catch up with email before heading out for the afternoon. Lori is taking us sight-seeing on our way to the place where Clifford will be giving a talk this evening. We go to the headwaters of Fall River, a place where a spring is the birthplace of a creek that soon becomes a river that flows into the Deschutes.
Birthplace of Fall River
It is amazing that so much water can come forth with so little fanfare. The crystal-clear water is surrounded by mossy rocks and logs, creating a fairyland habitat.
Moss and green grass
There is an old ranger station here, no longer in use but still maintained, which is perhaps the one where Clifford spent time with friends over 40 years ago. Inside and out, it looks familiar to him.
The old ranger station
Further down the road, we walk along the Fall River, admiring its lovely clarity and the reflections on its surface as it flows gently toward the Deschutes.
Fall River
Reflections on the crystal-clear water of Fall River
Friends of Lori’s are hosting Clifford’s talk in their lovely home, also along the Deschutes River. From their back yard I am delighted to find a view of Mount Bachelor, which has been elusive. I have had only the briefest glimpses of it, even though it is one of the most outstanding peaks in the area, the view always being blocked by trees or the contours of the land.
Mount Bachelor
There is a good turn-out for Clifford’s presentation, which is received with renewed enthusiasm and appreciation for the work that he is doing.
Cllifford’s talk in Sunriver, near Bend, Oregon
It is late by time we return to Lori’s place and we soon retire to our rooms. Tomorrow we will head to Ashland for the next talk, but tonight the “rivet rivet rivet” of the frogs keeps us company, reminding us in their own way of the importance of restoring a healthy environment to the planet.
Friday April 17: Even though it will be sunny soon, I decide to have a campfire this morning. Once the organic French press coffee is ready, I sit by the fire to write in my journal. Journal writing is very interrupted most days: tending fire, moving from smoke to non-smoke (breezes are variable here), shade to sun, Clifford coming out to tell me something, taking photos, using the restroom, and so on. But finally I am caught up.
Morning campfire
I sit enjoying the peacefulness of the moment – a raven (or maybe it’s a crow) flies by and I can hear a robin chirping his morning song. Life is good.
Today we drive up the road to the Newberry Monument. We know the gate to the caldera is closed, but we plan to hike the rim trail to a falls that I can see on the map. However, once we get to the parking lot, we see a sign indicating that we need a permit to park there. So, on back down the road we go, back to camp. Hiking to Paulina Falls will have to happen some other day.
In the late afternoon we move our chairs right next to the creek bank so as to enjoy both the creek and the last rays of sunlight.
Sitting by Paulina Creek
Clifford continues to study and I read more of the 1983-1984 journal. We sip our hot tea as we squeeze the most delight out of the day that we possibly can.
Saturday April 18: It is very hazy this morning and I wonder if it is from forest fires since it is dryer and warmer here than normal. We later hear that the haze is from fires in Siberia. SIBERIA! At the nearby RV place which sports a little cafe, we have breakfast with Lori, the woman who has organized Clifford’s talk in Bend. Since she has grandkids, she is not as young as her voice and her looks would indicate. We will be staying at her place along the Deschutes River for a couple of days once we leave our campground. Lori is a soft-spoken activist on behalf of the natural world. We look forward to getting to know her better. We make a trip to Bend for errands and groceries, so no photos today.
Sunday April 19: Still hazy this morning and cool enough that a campfire feels good. I take photos with the cell phone so I can send photos and brief messages to family and friends. After breakfast, I reorganize the kitchen/storage area using the new stackable drawers that we bought yesterday. They are light-weight and will make better use of our vertical space when we are camped.
Remodeling Pony storage/work area
The area will stay more tidy and packing up will be easier. We are pleased with our “remodeling.”
Lovely light in the late afternoon prompts more photo-taking, especially the creek and the dogwood shrubs along its banks.
Lovely late afternoon light
Monday April 20: Today, after a trip to La Pine for mail (which has not yet arrived) and the laundromat, we again drive to the parking lot at the gate to the Newberry Monument, having been told that as of the 15th of April we don’t need the permit to park there. We find a trail called the Rim Trail and it shows the mileage to the falls to be further than anticipated based on the road map that I’m looking at. However, we decide to give it a try and head on up the trail into a forest of ponderosa pine, spruce, and oak trees.
Hiking the Rim Trail to Paulina Falls
The Rim Trail where we are hiking is the trail to the actual rim where one can look down at the lakes within the caldera. We admire the trees as we hike, stepping over downfall that has not been cleared off the trail. Here and there we cross small patches of snow, a reminder of the winter that almost happened in central Oregon. Oregon has also been suffering from the west coast drought, even though it hasn’t made as much headline news as the drought in California. Although we have heard the sounds of a lively cascading stream coming from the ravine a ways off the trail, we have not seen the falls that prompted the hike. Given the time of day, we can only hike 20 more minutes before turning around. Just as we are about to head back, we see what looks like a sign ahead of us. We decide to go on that much further and to our delight, the sign points to Paulina Falls, a magnificent double waterfall, with possibly a 100-foot drop, before the creek races and tumbles on down the deep gorge.
Paulina Falls, the close-up version
The gorge near the Newberry Caldera rim
We take numerous photos, even though the sunlight is too bright, and relax a few minutes before hiking back down to the parking lot and driving the winding road back to camp. What a great outing to end our stay at Paulina Creek, as we will be leaving tomorrow. I have loved being here and am sad to leave this spot, but I know we have good views to look forward to.
Wednesday April 15: It is a chilly 18 degrees this morning, but by time I get up, it is already sunny in camp so I don’t bother with a campfire. I was going to sit in the sun and write in my journal, but instead I walk along the creek bank taking photos of ice-coated blades of grass. It is really a delight to walk about, warmed by the sun with the blue sky overhead.
Icicle grass
Today I start reading the journal started in 1983. Part of this journal, beginning in 1984, I had written out and emailed to Dan in 2008 to give him a sense of the family that he was going to be born into in the fall of 1984. Unfortunately, he became angry with what he saw as my selfishness when I mentioned being depressed, overwhelmed with raising a family and taking care of a farm with little support. It is too bad that the connection I was hoping to establish with him didn’t happen, but at least this journal is not as pathetic as the 1979 journal that I read last fall. In spite of difficulties, I continued to be involved with music and other creative activities as well as spending time with friends. What is missing is more of the good and fun stuff that my kids were doing; luckily photos from that time period are reminders of that side of my stressed-out life. And I don’t often mention being happy, which is a sad commentary on my life back then.
In the evening I write a blog about our stay in Deschutes Oregon State Park and get the text uploaded to WordPress, but the internet connection is not strong enough to allow photos to be uploaded – so I will leave it for another day.
Thursday April 16: Even though the morning starts out chilly, it gets up to 63 degrees under a beautiful blue sky. Good morning for a shower, which means heating a pan of water and then finding a private spot in the forest to dump some of the hot water over one’s body, suds up, and then rinse off. It works fine as long as it is warm enough outside and private enough. Still a little brisk when we do showers this morning, but sure feels good.
Our hot spots are flukey today. Mine doesn’t work well even though Clifford has called the company to reset it; his goes dead but won’t charge with USB, which is what we have using the solar panels. “Go with the Flow” is important to keep in mind; so what if I can’t get on WordPress, so what if I can’t do the CI email…..
We decide to go for a drive back to McGregor Viewpoint so I can take photos on this blue-sky day. I’m concerned that in the previous photos the snow on the caldera will not distinct enough due to the clouds that afternoon.
Newberry Caldera, Little Deschutes River, beautiful blue sky
While I take more photos, Clifford continues his research at a nearby picnic table and then we take a double selfie – thanks to the timer on the camera.
Clifford continues to study while I take photos
Becka calls while we are there and I tell her about the old journal written when she was one to two years old. Interesting to hear her recount some good memories of her childhood.
In the evening I download the photos taken over the last several days and look at them while we have our CI staff call. Then I do a little more editing, but the internet is still too intermittent to upload any photos, so once again I’ll “go with the flow” and leave it for another day, being grateful for having another view of the Newberry Caldera on this beautiful blue-sky day.
Wednesday, April 1 and Thursday April 2: After leaving Palouse Falls, we travel to Pasco, Washington, to spend the night with good friends. They provide a delicious dinner, a fun outing to a local brewery, and a comfortable bed for the night. After a tasty breakfast the next morning, we say our good-bye’s before heading south to Oregon and then west on I 84 along the Columbia River to Deschutes Oregon State Park, which is located on the bank of the Deschutes River at its confluence with the mighty Columbia. As we travel I notice how rugged and barren the landscape is on both sides of the river – not very hospitable at all, it seems to me.
Barren landscape, but great clouds
When we arrive at the park, I am pleased to see that it is a huge lovely lawn with a variety of handsome trees. There are not many campers here this time of year, especially as we are arriving mid-week. We choose a spot on the corner of a loop near the river.
Lovely big lawn and handsome trees
Initial set-up is easy, as the parking spot is paved and level. Once the Pony is set up, I realize there is more mildew than what I could see when we did the modified set-up at Palouse Falls. I tackle the inside with cleaning products from Melaleuca until the Pony smells clean, though I can still see some discoloration from the mildew. It takes quite awhile longer to get things in place because of this extra cleaning, but once that is done we have a good dinner and relax a bit before heading to bed.
Friday April 3: I didn’t sleep well, as the traffic noise from I 84 is non-stop and trains rumble by every couple of hours. On the plus side of things, this is an attractive park, there are flush toilets and showers, the Deschutes River is near at hand, and the trees are quite wonderful. A row of Lombardy poplars line the river bank, a huge golden willow stands tall and solid in the center of the park grounds, and there are other trees the likes of which I have never seen.
A row of Lombardy poplars line the bank of the river
A weeping willow tall and sturdy
Trees the likes of which I have never seen
We are quite comfortable here and, except for the traffic and trains, which are easy to ignore in the daytime, this is a lovely peaceful place to spend a few days.
Saturday April 4: After breakfast I make a picnic and then we head west to Hood River, which we find to be an attractive little town, and then south on state highway 35 toward Mount Hood. Even though the road begins to climb right away, we see many orchards in bloom for several miles. As we get nearer Mount Hood, the landscape becomes more forested, obscuring the view of the great mountain. We take the road up to Timberline Lodge, as Clifford was here as a teenager and is interested in seeing it again after the passage of so many years. For me, it is the first time I have been in the area and I am thrilled to see Mount Hood up close.
Mount Hood behind clouds
Mount Hood from Timberline Lodge
After we have our picnic sitting in the Blazer at Government Camp at the base of the mountain, being too chilly to sit outside, we head back down the road and arrive at our campsite in the late afternoon. I take a few more photos of the river before going inside to make dinner, followed by the evening activities of studying (Clifford) and looking at the day’s photos (me).
Deschutes River seen from the bridge
Deschutes River at evening light
Last light on the river
We have decided to stay another couple of days, as we would like to learn more about the history of the region before we travel on. This area is significant both in terms of the emigrants on the Oregon Trail in the mid 1800’s as well as the Lewis and Clark Expedition before them in the early 1800’s. We plan to catch up on emails and needed downloads for research tomorrow while we have cell service (our means of accessing the internet), and visit the Discovery Center outside of The Dalles, just a few miles to the west, on Monday. For tonight, I will listen to the river and try to ignore the traffic and the trains as I sleep.
Tuesday March 31: After a two-week setback because of Clifford’s health – was it the flu, we really don’t know – we are finally on our way today. We have breakfast at the Red Light Garage so as not to dirty any dishes, and finish packing the Blazer. In Kellogg we stop at the clinic for another blood test for Clifford and Coeur de Alene for gas and fill up the propane that will be our source of fuel for cooking and staying warm. At Spokane we head southwest: destination is Palouse Falls State Park in southeast Washington. Thanks to my research and phone calls, I have found an available and affordable place for us to stay on this part of our route. Not many campgrounds are open in March or early April and there are no national forests as fallback in this part of the country. The barren landscape is more attractive than it was when I was here in February, now having a sheen of green from grasses beginning to grow in this prairie-almost-desert region.
A slight sheen to an otherwise barren landscape
Once we exit I 90 to head south on highway 261 toward the state park, rolling hills of winter wheat are abundant, but soon the land becomes rugged and broken.
The Palouse River runs through a deep channel created eons ago as flood waters changed the topography of the land. Upon arrival at the Palouse Falls State Park, the spectacular falls can be seen from the parking lot as the river races and falls from one gorge into an even deeper gorge. A fence keeps visitors safe from tumbling into the pool far below that forms at the base of the falls before the river dashes on.
Palouse Falls by evening light
Power of the falls
This park is designed more for day-use, but there are a couple of spots where we can park the Pony (our little pop-up) at the edge of the grass – a large lawn-like area with trees and picnic tables scattered here and there. We do a modified set-up this evening, as we will only be staying one night and don’t want to take the time to do a full set-up. It is not so convenient for cooking and doing dishes, but an easy dinner of soup, cheese and crackers is fine for tonight. Mr. Heater keeps us warm this windy chilly evening.
Pony on the edge of the camping area
Wednesday April 1: I wake up before Clifford and decide to go for a stroll up on the cliffs above the waterfall – no fence here! The sun has just risen over the bluffs behind the falls and as I walk along the cliff top, I have a great angle with the light hitting the falls, but not blinding the camera. Mist is rising from the pool due to the coolness of the morning, adding a special ambiance to the scene. I don’t go far, as I would like to share this walk with Clifford.
Mist in the morning
After an easy breakfast of yogurt and fruit, we walk together along the cliff and head upstream so as to see the river before it reaches its jumping off spot.
The jumping off spot
There is a very impressive cascade not far upstream and an unusual sharp bend in the course of the river, which we learn was caused by the cataclysmic events in the far distant past.
Cascades upstream from the falls
We admire the river, the falls, and the rugged landscape before heading back to the Pony to get ready for the next leg of our journey.
As some of you may know, our planned road trip to central Oregon and the California coast has been delayed because of Clifford being too sick to drive. Today is a beautiful blue-sky and real-cloud kind of day, and it feels like we should be outside enjoying it. This is the first day that he feels well enough to go for a drive, so we decide to make a short road trip over Lookout Pass to the exit at Taft on the Montana side. We have been here before, planning to explore the road up the canyon in hopes of finding a place alongside a creek where we can park the Pony (our little pop-up) for shorter close-to-home camping outings, but the road has always been too snowy. Well, this time we are able to go about a quarter of a mile before we begin sinking too deep into the slushy snow. So, no more exploring here today, but at least it is a quarter mile further than we’ve been before.
As we are heading back out to the interstate, we see a forest road alongside a stream that somewhat parallels the highway. We decide to explore it a ways in case it pulls away from the interstate and provides a peaceful spot to pull over – today for a little picnic that I put together for us and as a potential place to camp in the future. A short way in, we stop so I can take photos of the colorful dogwood bushes and the lovely clear-water stream, but we are still on the lookout for a place to pull off the road.
Lovely clear stream alongside the forest road
The gravel road has lots of puddles from the melting snow, but it looks do-able…. and it is for awhile. But then we run into snow; Clifford says it is okay: the snow is hard-packed and in the shade, so we’ll be fine. To make a long story short, it is a hairy five miles of slipping and slushing and we are quite relieved when the forest road merges with the frontage road of the town at the next exit.
Instead of a picnic by the creek, which is what I had envisioned for us, we have our picnic at the rest stop up the road, sitting at a picnic table in the sun to enjoy our lunch.
Rest stop picnic
Although it was a bit more of an adventure than we bargained for, we are grateful that it ends well and that we had an outing on this lovely day.
While folks around the country have had more snow and wintery weather than ever and are weary of it, we in the Silver Valley of northern Idaho have had little. So, my friend Sally and I drive up the road – literally to higher elevation – and then hike up the Pulaski Trail – we don’t go far enough to really call it a hike, even though it is a hiking trail – to even higher elevation…. and revel in the beauty of winter.
It was 15 degrees this morning, but blue sky above and and sunny where the sun’s rays reach into the valley. The first part of the trail is in the sunlight, but we are soon walking in shade and snow on the trail.
Icy edges on Placer Creek
Hiking along Placer Creek, we see some very enchanting ice formations.
Ice formations hanging from a log over Placer Creek
Photography is a bit tricky with the low light and high contrast between snow and the almost-black water of the creek. In spite of that, it is a delight to be here. At the half-mile mark is my favorite waterfall, a fairlyland all mossy and green in the summer, but in the chill of the last days of winter, it is enchanting in quite a different way.
Fairyland Falls in winter
We both would have like to have gone further, but Sally is in the process of moving and I am packing for our first road trip since last fall. So, we turn back and soon see sunshine before us, beyond the grasp of the cold and winter-wonderland that we have briefly enjoyed.
Mostly sunny this morning, but a very damp 35 degrees after yesterday’s rain. The campfire is reluctant this morning, but after awhile a cheery blaze warms me as I sit with my cup of coffee and “A New Earth,” reading about the pain-body, the condition where one identifies with one’s pain so much as to lose touch with the real person.
Keeping my coffee warm
After breakfast I walk across the meadow, irresistibly drawn to the aspens on the hillside. This time I find a game trail that ascends at a comfortable angle and I am soon at the aspen grove. I take lots of photos even though the angle of the sun is not ideal. There is quite a breeze, causing the leaves to shimmer and sparkle as they dance about. It is really quite marvelous and I thoroughly enjoy being there.
Leaves shimmer and sparkle as they dance about
I walk with trees
Back at camp, I have a long cello session broken by wood gathering in the deep woods behind the camp. I realize there is so much more to explore. I did not have the energy for it earlier in our stay, but I feel like I’m missing out on something important. Well, next time…. The twigs and branches that I find are really quite wet, so I reluctantly leave the magical woods
Magical woods
and walk across the meadow to gather twigs and branches that have had more time to dry in the sun and the wind. Back at camp I continue with playing cello until Becka calls. Someone made her angry and she calls to talk about camping because it makes her feel better. We plan a camping date for next summer, perhaps right here. Clifford needs to use my cell phone for a business call, so I give him the phone and head on back to the aspens.
The sun shines low from the west
The sun is now low in the west, shining through the gap between mountain peaks. It is cloudier this afternoon, so I have to wait for sunnier and still moments to get shots with the glow of the leaves as the sun shines through them. Back-lit leaves of plants and shrubs also get my attention.
Back-lit
Even while I wait for these photo-opp moments, I am thrilled to be here on the mountain with these lovely trees.
Lovely aspens dance for me
Hard to say good-bye while the sun yet shines
Still saying good-bye
I can’t bear to leave until the sun has settled low enough that no more sunlight illumines the grove. Finally I say “good-bye” and head down the hill, picking up chunks of wood on my way. Back at camp, it is time for another campfire, hot tea, and journal writing. Bass Creek has been good for me. Every day I breathe in the fresh air; I am surrounded by mountains, tall ponderosa at the meadow’s parameters look down on me, dark mysterious woods invite me to explore, and golden aspen dance for me – they have all shared their strength with me. I am feeling healthier and more peaceful being here at Bass Creek. There are even moments of joy. I hope to carry this joy with me as I move forward to what lies ahead.
Thanks to the milder than normal January here in northern Idaho and western Montana, I decide to make a trip over Lookout Pass to visit my daughter, Ang, who lives off-grid and blogs as Modern Mountain Woman. I take it easy going over the pass as it is hard to tell melting snow runoff from black ice in the shady spots. Once down the other side, the highway is clear and I make good time.
Clark Fork River
It is tempting to stop and take photos of the Clark Fork River, but I am eager to get on up to the cabin. Once off the highway, road conditions deteriorate somewhat. The state highway out of the village is mostly clear, but a little icy in spots; the road up the mountain begins as snowpack and mud, but soon turns into a sheet of ice topped with a layer of water. Nice and easy does it right to the driveway, which is a steep upward turn. Ang and friends have not been able to get up to the cabin, even with chains, but I am not crazy about carrying all my stuff – clothes, food and books to share, and a cello – up the icy driveway, so I decide to see if I can make it up to the cabin. Well, you gotta love a Subaru with good tires!
From cabin looking down the driveway
The next few mornings are spent enjoying the first light of the day, sharing French press coffee, talking about books we are reading, the writing contests she is planning on entering, sacred geometry, and manifesting.
Morning sun beams
Sunlight on the trees
Over the next several days, numerous bonfires are built – no easy task with everything outdoors either still under snow or wet from the humidity and the rain that fell softly one night – and deadfall is burned to begin a clearing process to let light into the forest and to create an opening for terraced gardens, greenhouse, and chickens come summer.
Getting the bonfire going with damp and green wood
One morning while Ang is working for the neighbor down the road, James and I have a fire making contest. Each of us had a fire pit and worked to see who could get a good fire going first. Although I had some flames at one point, James didn’t fare any better, and it was only when Ang returned that we had a really good bonfire.
Fire building winner is the modern mountain woman
Wood is cut and other chores are attended to. James and I play cello together, the first time doing a duet for him.
Ang cuts wood for the cabin’s wood stove
James gets a haircut
We visit with friends and family. Sometimes we drive out in my car and sometimes brave folks drive up to the property, walking through the woods to join us at a bonfire.
Friends come for a visit
Most evenings we go down to the next door neighbor’s place, as he is not quite so off-grid and has internet, electricity, and running water. We take care of business involving the internet, take showers, and share a meal while we watch Stargate. Back at the cabin, peaceful evenings lead into quiet nights except for the puppy and the cat when they get restless.
Ang with Boots and Thor (naughty but oh-so-cute puppy)
The cabin is cozy; I sleep on the bench/bed that will one day be part of the rocket stove, which will be built before next fall. I can look out the window and see stars on the clear nights, little solar lights, and the embers of a recent bonfire. I am delighted to be surrounded by great tall trees in the daytime and complete darkness at night except for these small gentle sources of light .
Evening bonfire that will soon die to embers
Although I probably could not live totally off-grid by myself, I enjoy the opportunity to share a few days in the life of a modern mountain woman. Tomorrow I will head for home; the next day Clifford will return from his business trip to California, and soon we will be able to take the Pony (our pop-up tent trailer) on a camping trip, our own version of living off-grid.
With errands to run, Ang trucks on down the icy road to town
