What’s Best? ~ Day #14: Another slow start in the morning, allowing Dolce to have her fill of chasing tennis balls, swimming in the river and rolling in the dirt…did I mention that I clean the RV 2x a day? With Dolce satiated and unable to keep her eyes open while basking in the sun, I take the opportunity to go for a mountain bike ride on one of the endless red dirt trails I discovered yesterday. I pick Thunder Mountain mostly for its name…It feels bad-ass to ride a trail with that name. The ride is everything it’s name exacts. As I started up the trail a handful of guys were coming down from the opposite direction. One of them asked: “Are you going all the way up?” Having no idea what I was in for I replied “yeah…I’m riding the whole thing.” Eyebrows lifted and with that look of “hmmm, you go girl”, he made an affirmative comment that I don’t recall but do recall thinking “well now I have to ride it”. I did. It was burly (one of my new favorite words that I picked up from Annie). Burly can apply to anything…a tough MTB trail, a long day at the office, intense emotional feelings etc…I’m simply noticing that it’s not my word, not something I would have said in my past. I have other words like that. For example: “No worries” is from my several visits to Australia. It’s something I say all the time and have since 1997. There are others…I’m having a brain fade attempting to identify them and feeling resistance to acknowledging who may have left their mark on me. Thunder Mountain was a workout. At the end of the ride, I had the option of coasting back down the paved road. After seeing at least a dozen people riding the opposite direction, I inferred that it must be pretty fun and with significantly less climbing than the way I rode it (it would seem like a simple and logical assumption that if I am climbing one direction I am likely descending in the other…I was tired, logic was inaccessible). What’s Best? ~ Day #14: Thunder Mountain MTB trail in the westerly direction! And the 360° panoramic views from up high.
0 Comments
I give myself permission to a slow start. I feel little motivation to explore and know that exploration is exactly what will jump start my sad little heart. I am delighted watching Dolce play in the river and sprint endlessly after her tennis ball. I realize that she is constantly teaching me. She is excited about everything. I wonder about my desire to see and experience something amazing every day. Is it so I can write about it or share pictures or is it a sense of personal accomplishment? Why does it feel so difficult to take a day off? I am assaulted again today by the perception that everyone else has something important to do and someone they are doing things with…I’m worried about my future, thinking about my relationship, indifferent about what’s right before me (except Dolce, I am so grateful to have her). I am irritated at the idea that I have to figure out what I want to do today and that I don’t have a familiar routine to follow. That sensation is such an affront to the purpose of moving into this RV and wandering…I rely on a new-old tool: curiousity. I ask myself what I want. I wonder how the day might unfold to fulfill my desires. I pack a lunch and put Dolce into the jeep and off we wander. A short distance into our drive we approach Red Canyon. This takes me by surprise as the landscape distinctly changes. Each side of scenic Highway 12 is covered in red rock spires, hoodoos, and rock formations that illicit imagination. I even see a small arch in the distance. There is a paved bike trail that looks to go all the way to Bryce Canyon. Pullouts are filled with rented RV’s. Excited people pour out the side entry door that dons a golden retriever photo - these were everywhere! Dolce should be their poster-pup. I too pull out, read info signs and discover several mountain bike trails…my heart begins to warm, filling with a sense of excitement. We drive on, not taking many photos as I have already concluded that I will do some sunset photography of Red Canyon. We pass Bryce NP as I am being frugal, holding out to buy my National Park pass on the first day of the month such that I might enjoy 13 months of access! I drive to Kodachrome State Park with hopes of driving through the campsite area to verify that the RV will fit even though they advertise max length of 30’. The ranger is brusque, refusing to let me drive to the campground without paying since that would allow me to see the whole park. In my frustrated haste, I refuse to pay and thus miss out on seeing the park and promise never to give Utah State Parks a dime of my money…days later I will come to realize that I lost out on that deal and having been in a lighter state of being, would have gladly paid the money to experience the beauty. Once again I recall that I am a life learner, not perfect and that my mistakes provide guidance for future successes. Willis Creek Canyon, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, UT I stop at the Forest Visitor Center to discover that the pseudo slot canyon I read about and dismissed is not far and not as treacherous of a drive as I had imagined. Day #13: What’s Best? ~ a hike in Willis Creek canyon. Dolce enjoys being off-leash, stomping through the creek the entire way and taking every opportunity to splash me! Day #13: What’s Best? ~ a quick hike to Mossy Cave in Bryce NP and where I realize that I love the panoramic feature on my Iphone
We enjoy our last run in Page, contemplate venturing into Lower Antelope Canyon and decide to wait until next time as it’s something I want to share with Annie. Previous days’ thoughts aside, the slot canyons are surreal and worth seeing especially when shared with another. So much of what I experience during RV travel is mind blowing. I am blessed to have been amazing places, hiked, biked and kayaked my happy heart out…and what I am recognizing (through a sense of discomfort right now) is that connection with others is the most important thing to me. Some time ago, I swore off the notion of moving into a monastery or ashram. I know the efficacy of prayer, meditation and quiet. I also know how very easy it is for me to be in these states. Connection to the Divine in times of solitude, mediation, journeying etc…is not my life lesson. Connection to the Divine in the midst of chaos and with others, groups of people, a partner, crowds, even tourists…is my cross to bear. I find myself uncomfortable right now. The ease that I have previously felt traveling solo and going days without speaking to others is inaccessible. I feel a sense of fear. Have I “lost” something? Have I forgotten a part of myself due to attachment in personal relationship? Do I have to give something up? Can a relationship fulfill me alongside the freedom I like to express and appreciate when I am alone? I have no answers so I sit in my discomfort. I give myself permission to cry. I ask all of the why? questions and know that answers are never found there. I journal, I read, I lay awake at night with nothing going through my mind except desire to sleep. And so it is...I don’t get “the shot” every day. And I don’t have the sweet, unexpected loving exchange with a gentle soul every day. I miss the person I love and with whom I am building a life…at 47. Isn’t every day “building” life? I forget my most precious knowledge: all we have is THIS very moment. In that forgetting, I am in pain. Day #12: What’s Best? ~ fixing the leaking RV toilet and being resourceful through obtaining the part from the marine supply store (there are numerous houseboats on Lake Powell! Day #12: What’s Best? ~ Arriving at our next destination; Hatch, UT (somewhere between Zion and Bryce NP’s). We stay at a private campground with 25 acres bordered by a small river. We are the only campers and the owner says it’s ok for Dolce to be off-leash and swim until or unless another camper arrives. One of us is blissful…in watching her bliss, I feel the familiarity of it; I find a crumb to hang onto. I haven’t altogether forgotten. I take Dolce out for another run along the mesa-top with intention to depart Page today and simply blow off the slot canyons. I am struck by heavy-duty inner conflict. I talk with my partner about it and still have no resolution. The clash within me causing a pain that I cannot identify. Throwing caution to the wind and accepting whatever is supposed to be, I eat proverbial crow. I call a couple other tour companies who both suggest I contact the company that I canceled with yesterday. Last thing I want to do…get chewed out again by an angry multitasking saleswoman. I really want to see these canyons, it’s the epicenter of the entire route, the “one thing” I didn’t do in my previous excursions in and around the AZ/UT region. I make the call. Yes, they have a spot. I ask to be picked up at the campground…pause…the woman says “did you cancel yesterday?” Yes, I reply, because of the wind and rain. She grunts, guffaws and reluctantly gives me the details of my pick-up time and expectations. Woo Hoo, I’m in! Day #11: What’s Best? ~ My visit to Upper Antelope Slot Canyon Some observations about the slot canyon experience: While the slot canyon, the lighting, and the colors are an extraordinary natural phenomenon, the experience was not. I have not surprisingly dualistic opinions of the circumstances. On one side, I am grateful that nearly anyone has the opportunity to see this magical phenomenon. It has been exceptionally well marketed and is doing what good marketing should do: making a boat load of money. Where the money is going is beyond my interest although my inner skeptic suspects it is not widely spread (particularly if you pay attention to the demographic/economic scene in and around Page or ask a regular local Navajo who happens to work the desk at the RV park…just sayin’). The other part of me says that if you can’t “work for it” (as in hike through miles of deep sand to access it), compose your own photos (as in don’t ask the Navajo guide to take them for you the whole time) and revere it (as in don’t litter, don’t deface, chant your mantras and leave no trace) then keep out! There, I’ve said my peace/piece (they both apply). Day #11: What’s Best? ~ A late afternoon MTB ride around Manson Mesa – landed me two flat tires from Tribulus terrestris aka: goatheads (massive thumbtack-like stickers). The “best” part of that is that I finished the ride by adding air instead of replacing the tubes on the trail and when I replace the tubes, I will use my bullet-proof Slime tubes so that I can ride Moab carrying one tube and no worries! Good thing my morning reading included the sweet reminder that everything happens for a reason… Running from a storm on empty tires...adventure!
Are we going to do ANYTHING today???I awoke in anticipation of my visit to the slot canyons and capturing that shot. On a long run with Dolce on the rim trail around the mesa that founds the city of Page, I am assaulted by 25 mph winds, sand pelting hard against the back of my legs usurping the need for a spa exfoliation treatment anytime soon and thunderclouds dribbling rain. Brief internet research confirmed that today was not the day to capture THE shot. I call the tour company asking about the probability of THE shot and am accosted by a rude saleswoman telling me I would still have to pay if I “no-show” and that yeah, duh, with this wind my camera would likely be damaged beyond reapir due to sand infillitration caused by blustering wind. We bantered about the refund policy and the fact that I was not informed of it etc…she reluctantly (after hanging up on me without confirming my name/details) agreed not to charge me.
Day #10: What’s Best? ~ staying in the RV all day reading, writing and relaxing with Dolce. (My personal “3 R’s”) and a good excuse to do the laundry. What’s Best? ~ Day #9: A timely gas station Travel day from Monument Valley to the much anticipated reason for this loop…Page, AZ. Traveling in the RV is a moving meditation for me. I feel deep ease as we navigate from place to place. I recognize how big the world is and learn from afar about the people of the areas we pass through. The nature of the development, the types of homes, the expansiveness of the land, grazing animals or vast farmlands, the reduction in speed as I pass through a small town. These and other details lay hints of what I might expect if I were to stop. I make the mistake today of assuming that gas will be easily attainable. As the tank inches toward empty, I remind myself of my layers of back-up plans: If a gas station doesn’t have a big enough turning radius I can unhook the jeep. If I run out of gas, I can disconnect the jeep, drive to the nearest gas station and return with gas (assumes they will have a gas can – In my precious arsenal of gear, gas can did not make the cut); if the jeep runs out of gas, I can ride my bike. All of this as well as chastising myself for not just getting gas in Monument Valley and regularly checking my cell phone for service and a familiar dialog with myself saying “don’t worry it’s all going to be ok”. I suspect, this is the part that subconsciously gets me into this jam. I like the unknown…I like pushing edges, I like feeling a sense of dominion over daily details…it works out this time. I celebrate as I maneuver into a station – plenty of turning radius but “hmm, is there vertical clearance for the RV?” A group of Navajo (assumed ethnicity as I was traveling through Navajo lands) sitting in their pick-up appearing to be eating their gas station lunch, assured me “it’s ok, you are clear, don’t worry…”nodding heads at me and waving arms toward the canopy and top of the RV. Getting gas is one of my least liked RV tasks. Having a full tank and knowing I can go for hundreds of miles is a favorite feeling…I admit to not understanding this self-inflicted dichotomy. Arriving in Page, I experience a recognizable model of a small town gone touristy. My intention for coming to Page was to experience Antelope Canyon. It is listed on several “top 25 surreal” and “must see” lists. This is why: Being a hobby photographer, I was enthusiastic about how much fun it would be to attempt to capture THAT shot. What I didn’t realize, is that the shot has nothing to do with skill, equipment or artistic ability. God created the shot and the Navajo guides make darn sure you get it! And once you’ve got it, you are rushed out to enable the next photo enthusiast to get THE shot. This is not sarcasm…it’s the reality of the experience. Check out Day #11 for further musings on this subject. What’s Best? ~ Day #9: Things aren’t always what we expect them to be! Back to arriving in Page. Until 1957, the town of Page was 24 square miles and a mesa on 16 million acres (27,000 square miles) of Navajo nation land. The construction of the Glen Canyon Damn necessitated a land exchange in order to provide housing for damn construction workers. The city of Page is the result. Evidence of the migrant nature of construction workers is evident in Page with large numbers of trailer homes dispersed in pockets around the town and abutting the hillsides. That I call it a small town gone touristy is a result of my feeling the tentacles of the beast reaching out and tackily attaching to me. Everywhere I looked I saw images such as the one above, billboards advertising slot canyon tours with real Navajo guides; power boat tours of Lake Powell, bus tours deep into the red walls of the grand canyon, kayak rentals, Super 8, Quality Inn, Denny’s restaurant, houseboat repair shops, convenience stores on every corner and converted trucks with covered buggies welded into the back carting loads of camera-bearing tourists to the same slot canyons I had intended to revere. I ponder how it never occurred to me that anyone else might be going to Page for the same reasons. What’s Best? ~ Day #9: Landing a spot on the following day’s “photographers tour” of the upper slot canyon, a swim in Lake Powell for Dolce, some sunset photography at the Lake Powell overlook, a visit to the Glen Canyon Dam (bridge) and Horseshoe Bend on the Colorado River. Early morning sunrise photography in Monument Valley and Valley of the Gods. Another random and chance meeting with a kindred spirit in Valley of the Gods. The chance meeting was with a gentleman named Eric who happened upon us as we were parked in the middle of the road (blocking it) while setting up for that one perfect shot in Valley of the Gods. It was still early morning, quiet and mystical. I was startled when Eric drove around the corner not anticipating that any other sane human would be up much less out in the middle of nowhere in the early morning hours. The only other people I had seen were a maniacal German tourist (I know he was German because I was at the campground office while he was checking in) and a handful of boondocking campers still cradling their morning coffee. I say the German was maniacal because as I first started out this morning to catch the landscape shots toward Monument Valley, he raced passed me (think peeling out, dirt and dust flying and hurriedly in and out of his car) in a rented Mustang and proceeded to stop at every dirt turnout snapping a photo then racing to the next dirt turnout and repeat. He then screamed passed me going the other direction back to the campground. I was further startled when Eric parked his car and got out…middle of nowhere, girl and a dog, a lone guy with a beard…my keen instincts perked up and I started noticing details. He wore clothing that gave him away as an outdoorsy guy but not lacking means, he was driving a Subaru with a mountain bike on the back and a Yakima skybox on the top, his car was packed with outdoor camping “stuff”, he instantly smiled when he saw Dolce. As he approached I checked my internal “safe/unsafe” meter – he landed well within safe. He walked toward me in his tan Eddie Bauer wrinkle-free travel pants, forest green Arcteryx fleece and Keen sandals…all smiles and sweetness. It was easy to drop my Scorpion guard. Dolce, using her classic golden retriever people-ometer also gave him a green light! An afternoon/evening photography tour of Mystery Valley and Teardrop Arch whose beauty blew me away and what’s more, I shared inspired ideas about healing with my guide who is studying to be a Medicine Man in the ancient Navajo traditions. As some know, I am studying and practicing Shamanic healing. I have not yet begun any kind of official study with a master trained in ancient ways. I am partially self-taught through books or practice and partially taught through workshops and teaching by other shamanic practitioners. My exposure is to what is commonly called Western Shamanism - brought to the USA in the 21st century; a blending of all of the common aspects of ancient shamanism from various cultures. Shamanic healing is believed to be the most ancient healing tradition crossing the most cultures while retaining the most similarities. In a nutshell, it is likely the oldest and safest form of healing ever successfully practiced…I refrain myself from a tirade on modern pharmaceutical medicine/healing. Hearing the voice of my loving partner, I am reminded that everything has a purpose and a place…reluctantly, even modern medicine…AND, it is my intention and goal to expose people to options ~ especially free (or relatively inexpensive), SAFE (with no deadly or harmful side effects) options that an individual is in personal, accountable, authentic control of (such as Shamanism, prayer healing, Reiki, Life Coaching, etc…). Day #8 ~ photography tour of Mystery Valley and Teardrop ArchTravel day. We moved from Durango to Monument Valley. We stayed at a campground called Gouldings. It was a regular town with lots of history about a couple of gringos who settled there and took interest in the Navajo…I admit, I have not spent much time on the history. Without belaboring a political or cultural subject, I believe that the culture of native/tribal people of the US has suffered dramatically – particularly their relationship to the earth, to nature. On Culture Clash... Many of the places that I visit feel very spiritual to me and yet they have become terribly over-touristed. There’s a clash of values that I experience that would require me to dive into this subject and I cannot muster the passion to do so in this moment. I will simply say that it saddens me that I cannot go into a slot canyon and meditate under a light tube or walk aimlessly in Mystery Valley and feel the majesty and spirit of the earth. I am fiercely angry that we care so little about the earth that we have to be monitored and counted when we go to magical places lest we destroy it by littering, vandalism, taking souvenirs, and carving our names on gorgeous natural rock arches…as if our legacy somehow has greater efficacy when we say “I was here”. I am forced to go like a herded cow in a truck or pushed through the slot canyon being hurried to get “the shot”. That is not who I am when I take photos. My best shots are when I feel the life of the thing I am shooting. I might as well buy the postcard…I’m newly learning this about myself and on this experience. I am at odds personally and with the state of humanity right now. And that is what’s best too…that I care enough and am self aware enough to take a look at it; to consider my contribution to it and what I can possibly do to turn it around. I do count…and so do you. Everything we think and do every day has impact that is unimaginable. What if we became aware of how individually powerful we truly are and we started acting courageously and lovingly on behalf of all creation? Just sayin’… Day #7: What’s Best? ~ I am grateful for the earth and my relationship with her. A little “hidden arch” just outside the campground. A tourist willing to snap a picture of Dolce and I! Dolce blissed out.. The girl and the dog both love the river! The day started with a swim on the Animas for Dolce in preparation for me getting to do a long road bike ride…albeit longer than planned. Perhaps one of my greatest joys is watching Dolce be free. She is a constant reminder of living in the moment from the heart. Each day we spend in the RV I plan for time that enables her to feel bliss. Often, we share that bliss such as on hikes, river excursions or long off-leash runs. Then there are things that she cannot share with me (my intended ride) and it is these times when I make sure she does an activity that fills her heart. It’s pretty easy, she’s a golden retriever and relentlessly happy so it’s not as if this is “work” (god-forbid) to me. Day #6: What’s Best? ~ Dolce plays in the river! My road ride turned cyclocross, river errors and ice cream! With an exhausted pup, I was free to explore the hills around Durango. I had checked out some of the local loops and picked one that with the ride from the RV would take me about 40 miles with a fair bit of elevation gain. The ride was gorgeous but not without surprise! After mile 10 and my first climb of any significance, thunderclouds started to build in the distance. There had been a headwind most of the first ten miles so I knew those clouds were headed for me! It didn’t look terribly menacing so I pushed on thinking worst case that if it started I would only be in it for an hour or so. Continuing on the loop as planned, I encountered my first of a long stretch of gravel roads. Hmmm, this was not indicated on the loop map. I logically (so I thought) assumed it wouldn’t be too many miles so I stuck it out. My sticking it out turned into more than 15 miles of the ride on gravel/dirt road (mind you, I was on a carbon frame road bike…not an MTB, a comfort bike, or a cyclocross bike). The storm clouds drizzled on me several times yet for short spans. This ride was turning into far more than I had bargained. I kept asking myself if I should turn around? Never liking to miss out on good things, I pressed on as the write-up for the ride was awesome. Let’s just say I finished the ride, was not soaked or freezing and put in 50 miles in the saddle. If you ride, you know that 50 miles in the saddle means ice cream after dinner…and I did just that, cappuccino chip…one of my favorites.
Returning with ample sunshine, I knew that wave was still calling me. You bet, I quickly changed from cycling attire to kayaking attire and off we went. The river was simultaneously not without surprise today. After the fact, I would say I did something foolish, risky. Something that I don’t normally do…that’s how bad I wanted to surf the wave! The construction crew on the river’s edge was busy and shooing people out of the construction area (which offers the direct access to the wave). That required that I carry my kayak well upstream and run two rapids. I made several mistakes: 1. It was cold and rolling would not be pleasant…I ignored that. 2. I went into the middle of the river and caught an eddie behind a rock…I was totally committed to run the rapid. 3. I ran it and flipped. My roll is great, no worries, I was back upright AND freezing! 4. I ran the next rapid sight unseen…it was a mild class III. 5. I was so cold I could only handle a few surfs fearing that if I flipped again my dexterity would be compromised. Live and learn…I still surfed the wave! I ended my day with another 109° soak and ice cream, enthusiastically awaiting what tomorrow would bring. If you read Day #4, then it comes as no surprise that surfing the incredible play wave was best! My day stacked up nicely in terms of best experiences…Dolce and I shared a hike in what felt like undiscovered mountains. We were the only people out there and I realized that it caused my senses to heighten. Each time Dolce stopped and looked intensely into the distance I wondered if there was a bear or mountain lion, I too stopped and listened to the silence. In that pause, I heard the still small noises of the mountains. It startled me a bit to notice how often I am alone in nature and how it generally does not scare me. I affirmed (because I admit that I was a little nervous) my faith that no creature intends harm to any other creature. I noticed how fear impacted me and diminished the joy in the experience. I questioned whether I “belonged” out there? What would I do if something or someone “attacked” me? Pausing to let that sink in, I realize how debilitating fear is (real or imagined). Fear in its primal state has purpose: running for my life when being chased (think caveman days), fighting for one’s life when it is appropriate. Other than its base uses (fight or flight), fear doesn’t really serve an intention to live joyously or for a higher purpose. It’s a bit of a shackle. It’s powerful, particularly when used as an agent to attain power over something or someone. This writing has no conclusion…I am inviting you to consider your relationship to fear. Does it empower you or prohibit you? What is your relationship with it? Is there anything you can change with respect to fear that will improve the quality of your life? I’m asking myself the same questions. Back to that hike…it was spectacular! Day #5: What’s Best? ~ a contemplative mountain hike, a home gym away from home workout, some great surfing on a wave, and an unexpected dinner with family. I share often about chance meetings with random people and how I am consistently impacted by the love and grace I feel with perfect strangers. Perhaps today’s “what’s best?” highlight was my meeting with Tony. Tony is the owner or co-owner of 4Corners Riversports. https://www.riversports.com/ One of the guys at the wave pointed to Tony and said something about him owning the local boater shop. After countless rides on the standing wave and being encouraged by the guys in the eddie (via hooting and hollering and dozens of “get it girl” shouts), I had to peel myself away for dinner with family. I floated down river to where my car was parked and as I was getting out of my boat Tony arrived – heading for his car in the same parking lot. Because I frequently surf this kayak in the ocean, many of the components suffer from salt erosion. The ratchet system that keeps me tight inside the boat (and thus more able to roll and drive the boat) had become stripped. I asked Tony if in fact he was owner of the shop and if he possibly had these ratchets (pointing to my corroded kayak parts) in stock. He said no, we would have to order something like that. I dropped my head in a disappointed tilt and explained to Tony about living in the RV, being on a quick trip, hoping to keep surfing but concerned about the stripped ratchets. He said: “know what, I can help you out. I will pull a set out of one of our demo boats and order new ones for the demo. Can you stop by the shop now and I will get you hooked up?” I knew that I was already pushing the dinner engagement. I said “Oh, that would be great! Thanks so much. I am already probably late for dinner…” then demurely “is there any chance I can bring it in tomorrow morning?” Tony didn’t miss a beat. He said “I’m going back to the shop now, just throw the boat into my truck and I will have it all ready for you tomorrow morning.” I was elated and profusely appreciative. We walked to his truck, talking about all things kayaks and biking. I asked Tony if he needed money from me, a name, phone number…nope! He would simply take care of it and the boat would be waiting at his shop. Needless to say, the next day it was. New ratchets, the knee pads properly glued back in and a shop full of cool kayaker people who will get all of my business when in or near Durango, CO. People are incredible - given a chance, they want to help, they want to be kind and they want to exchange love. This was a loving exchange.
|
Carin G. AicheleArchives
May 2014
Categories
All
|