Renewal and Strengthening

    

Hiking at Garden of the Gods

     A lot has happened since I last wrote.  After Escalante, I backtracked down to Flagstaff, then headed to Albuquerque for a short visit with my friend, Jude, and to drop my camper off for some repairs at a local RV shop. I was a bit rough on it in Utah!  On my way to Colorado, I dropped Teddy off with my friend, Lauryn, and then headed straight to Colorado Springs, despite threatening clouds and snow storms last Thursday. 
      I have been visiting with a new friend, Dale, and her family in Colorado Springs for about four days.  I was treated like a queen with a wonderfully comfortable bed and master bathroom (a luxury after 6 weeks of camping), great food, and exceptional conversation.  This conversation is what brought us together because when we are together, it is impossible to have any small talk. We talked for hours every single day, up until minutes before I left, about life, life histories, viewpoints about almost everything, art, spirituality, music...you name it, we talked about it.  It was a true honor to be a part of this family for a few days.  Dale and I even managed to get a couple of great hikes in around the Garden of the Gods trail system.  If you haven't been, check it out next time you are in the area.  It is a gem.  Nothing like I have ever seen before in the middle of a city!

      After a delightful visit and introduction to Colorado Springs,
I drove up to Mueller State Park.  Now, this isn't a long drive at all,
but the elevation increases exponentially.  I headed up toward Pikes Peak and through the surrounding mountains.  Gorgeous climb.  I am now at about 9300-9500 foot elevation.  I feel it too.  Breathing is a challenge!
     I took a short two mile hike last night and was faced with Colorado beauty and wildlife in a big way right from the start.  I saw animal tracks everywhere and of all kinds.  I saw bear and deer scat, and as I was hiking, a snow storm came barreling through.  As I was preparing camp, about 8-10 deer grazed around my campground.  It started to snow, lightly at first, and then it just kept coming until about 3 in the morning.  I had just bought a lightweight backpacking tent, so winter camping was not in the cards.  I decided to go for it, though, and test myself.  I am not sure why, but I have had this feeling in the last few weeks that I need to get stronger and deal with what comes.  Well, it came.  I did not sleep but about 2 hours at the most, but I stayed pretty warm by layering, and layering, and layering.  A nearby camper had given me some toe and hand warmers for which I am so thankful. I was only frightened a very little bit when I heard a big thud at about 1 in the morning.  Bears are coming out of hibernation, so who knows.  I did buy bear spray and had read through the directions before I got settled in. The temperature got down to 25 degrees F. and with the precipitation, it was more like 16 degrees according to the weather app.
    
At around 4 AM, I was wondering why an almost 55 year old woman was lying on a hard ground trying to keep warm and sane in this little summery tent in 25 degree weather at 9500 feet elevation with wild animals around.  Most sane people my age would have opted for a comfortable hotel room. right?

     When I finally sat up to decide to get up and moving, I read from my morning reading.  Basically, it said that if we allow time to run it's course, difficult issues will eventually subside as long as we have our hearts and minds in the right place, spiritually.  What a gift that was after a long night.  As soon as I finished reading this, I opened my tent flap to a most glorious sunrise through the snow covered trees.  Another gift to be sure.  I think I will take a nap now and then go for a long wonderful hike afterward.  Here's to a new day!  Namaste...

Coming Home

    

    

     I knew when I drove into Escalante that I felt at home.  It was an overwhelming feeling, and I had not even gotten out of the car, yet.  I left today, and I still feel the same way.  I am in Flagstaff and about to head east, but it was hard to leave this morning.  I even had a tire blow out, the winds were against me the whole time, and I almost ran out of gas as I got close to Flagstaff.  The gods must have been trying to tell me something. 

     But what does 'coming home" really mean?  Why did I feel this way?  I am not entirely sure, but what I do know is that I felt completely comfortable the whole time I was there.  I felt at ease, healthy, capable of meeting people and having great conversations easily, and the land spoke to me at a deep level. 

     The last couple of days, I went on two lovely hikes that were very different from each other.  The first one was quite a popular hike called "Calf Creek Falls".  It meandered along a creek, sometimes low so that Teddy could have a break from the dry heat, and sometimes high above the water so that we sometimes forgot that water was even around.  But right before the end, I could hear the falls, and what a delight it was to come out on a lovely lagoon and gorgeous water fall.  I quickly cooled my feet in the icy cold water.   Definitely worth the six mile round trip ticket. 

     The funniest thing happened on the way back.  I saw a young teenage boy coming my way.  I said, "Koebe?", and he stepped back a little scared, and said, "yes?"  I had taught him piano for several years in McKinney until they moved to Salt Lake City.  His parents and friends soon caught up with us and we were beside ourselves with excitement and surprise. We had not seen each other in about three years.  What a small world it really is....

After the hike, I went to a nearby town to get some food and then drove up to the mountains to find an overlook.  I was going to take myself out to a restaurant, but when you have views like these, there is simply no point.  It doesn't matter what you eat.  It just tastes wonderful with good exercise and beautiful nature in front of you. 

That evening, I went to a community gathering of people who had been involved in the recent efforts to talk to Zinke and other federal officials from Washington about saving the monument from  destruction and border realignment.  I will tell you, these are some of the nicest people you will ever meet, and they are highly passionate and intelligent.  They simply want to have a voice in what happens to their "home".  Needless to say, the feds did not listen to what the people had to say, and instead, slipped out the back door (literally). They made that trip to Utah but  would not talk to anyone who really lived there to find out what they felt and thought.  What impressed me, however, was the smiles that the local people had at the gathering, the community spirit, and the don't stop attitude.  I wish them the very best, and if I find myself back there, I will be right next to them in their efforts. Washington simply doesn't care, so we, as citizens of this planet,  have to stand up for what is right. 

Calf Creek Falls

The next morning, Mother's Day, two people with whom I had spent some time visiting a few days earlier, were driving past my campsite and stopped to see if I wanted to hike with them.  They are both local artists, and are both very talented and interesting to be with.  I was absolutely delighted, so off we went on an off trails hike that I would never have  experienced on my own.  Reiser, a painter and sculptor, took the lead, and quietly led us up and around  a beautiful plateau and to the edge of Spencer Canyon while Brigitte, a potter and sculptor, and I visited about life, art, and music, interspersed with quiet contemplation.  Eventually, the three of us and Teddy stopped for a breather and a snack on a gorgeous overlook.  It was simply breathtaking, and what a joy it was to share this time with two lovely people whom I had just befriended a few days earlier!
     So..."coming home"...it could mean many things, but for right now, what it means is that I found a place in my soul where I felt comfortable being me, Toni.  I discovered some things about myself, such as my need for solitude, for deep contemplation and prayer, for nature, for strenuous use of my body that allows me to see the world around me, and for connections with interesting and passionate people.  Again, as I talked about in my previous entry, that healthy balance is crucial.  I leave this area with a much better sense of how I want to make decisions about my life as I go forward.  We have to be careful that we don't just "fall" into our lives.  Sometimes that cannot be helped, and we have to deal with what comes in the best way that we can, but there is also that part of ourselves, our intuitive selves, that can direct us to wonderful places and experiences in our lives.  I want to be able to "come home" to me wherever I am.  That is my new mantra. Not an easy one to live, but well worth the effort. 

Hike with Reiser and Brigitte

Connections and Solitude: a Healthy Balance

     

     A couple of entries ago, I mentioned that this next part of the journey was going to be different. It has been very different, but I am not sure that I can articulate why or how exactly. I will try, however. I am just now starting to feel this myself.

I did spend only three days in an RV park in Escalante which was actually perfect because I recharged my electricity, my phone, enjoyed a long hot bath, etc. Mostly though, I felt compelled to meet people in this town. I knew there were more like-minded people here, and I wanted to connect. By the second day here, I had met a primitive- pottery artist and her husband, a sculpted furniture maker, a hiking guide, a painter, a natural grocery store owner, 4 boys and a councilor from a nearby at-risk teens program, and I managed to get a piano playing gig at an arts event in September back here in Escalante. It was all kind of crazy. I even went to a drive in movie and watched a Clint Eastwood movie from the seat of a 1961 Rambler.

Through some connections, however, I moved my camper to a spot about 15 miles away

up on the rim of the monument. I have had the whole place to myself for the most part and have felt

completely safe in the peace and quiet. The views have been outstanding. Wednesday was a rainy day most the day, and it was absolutely incredible to read, meditate, and just be in my camper during the rain. The evening sky turned out to be the highlight of the day, however. The clouds, the color changes, a rainbow coming vertically down toward the desert, and eventually a full moon which started coming up when it was still daylight and shown like a lighthouse beacon once the sky darkened. The silence was brilliant... with occasional brushes of wind through the canyon. I had decided the day before not to move my camper until I was ready to backtrack my way to Arizona and then to New Mexico. Continuing east was going to be too hard on my truck with the ups and downs of highway 12. That's OK. I found my place, and I was OK to stay.

New Campsite

 Full Moon, Incredible

Yesterday, I went on my first guided hike with a wonderful owner and guide of Utah Canyon Outdoors store, Catie, and a delightfully funny woman from Ohio, Amy. I can honestly say that it was the best hike I have ever been on. It was totally off-trail, and Catie knew so much about the geological history and flora and fauna of the area. It was not textbook though; more just discoveries and conversations about what we were seeing mixed in with talks about politics concerning the monument, life stories, and a lot of laughter. The three of us got on marvelously, and Amy and I were both challenged in a way that perfectly suited us. Catie made us feel that we were in completely capable hands, yet we had to push our fear factor just enough to make it a lot more fun than just following a trail. I am inserting many more photographs than usual because the beauty I have been surrounded by has been unsurpassed I am in love with this place. ( I'll post the photos of my hike at the end.)

      So....going back to my opening statement about how it has become different...

I have learned to meet people easily, and I have genuinely been interested in getting to know them and vice-versa. Trusting people is getting easier and easier. With that said, however, I have been getting to know myself and realize that I need solitude...a lot of it, and I need nature. These two things feed me unlike food ever could. It is part of who I am, When one lives in a city all their life, it is hard to take the time to realize how important silence and natural beauty are to one's psyche. This idea of silence and nature get us to our core as opposed to circling around the periphery. I have realized, today in fact, that when I am tense or not feeling myself, that is the time to go back to my camper, be with myself and my spiritual core, feel nature as opposed to look at it, and just get grounded. Knowing that this is what I need at a very deep level, yet getting better at feeling comfortable with meeting strangers and genuinely enjoying getting to know them, is a wonderful balance of my spirit.

Does this mean that everyone needs to live out in the middle of the wilderness like I have been these last six weeks? Heavens no. But, I do think there is something to be said for a good deal of quiet contemplation; time just to allow one's psyche to reconfigure and one's heart to rest. A friend of mine said that reconfiguring “is an inside job”. She is absolutely right, and I also think that it is a balance of connections with caring human beings and opportunities to be in solitude that can make this "inside job" work. City parks, gardens, houseplants, pets, patios, and yes grand monuments are so important to remind us that the planet's beauty and quiet can take care of us in extraordinary ways if we take care of it.

Fear Burning

     Everyone said, "You must go to Bryce Canyon...It is magical!!"  And, that it is.  I went there the day after I arrived at my new camping area.  Unfortunately, and I knew this, I could only take my dog on the paved area which was about a half a mile long.  That was fine because it WAS magical.  Teddy and I listened to a geological explanation which was pretty good, we walked slowly and peered over the edge, and eventually shared lunch on the rim.  Unfortunately, I could not relax.  I kept feeling this tension that I had experienced from my previous few days (see my previous entry), and something was bubbling up and I could not shake it.  I continued to cruise the highway and stop at different viewpoints along the way which truly were magnificent.  I simply could not feel the same thing that I had felt at the Grand Canyon.
     Later that evening, I realized that I had some stuff to deal with...fears, to be honest with you.  I needed to grow in this area.  The next day I stayed hunkered down at the camper and just laid low the next day.  I read, walked in the forest, and eventually realized that I had strayed from why I came on this trip.  Most people see these things because they are on vacation.  This truly is not a vacation nor is it an adventure, although it has elements of both.  This is part of a larger journey, and I had started doing the tourist thing because it is like tourist candy up here.  There are so many beautiful things to see.
     I also came to realize that although I had walked with fear and did pretty damn well, I had not actually released my fears.  I did a lot of reading and thinking about this, and after a good bit of intentional exploration, started to let go of a lot of my fears.  Those fears that we hear constantly as children, teens, and on into adulthood, "Be careful, be safe, don't fall, don't go out too late at night, don't go to THAT area of town, don't go to THAT country, don't hang out with THAT type of person".  You all know what I am talking about.  We have heard these things since we were born, from parents, teachers, friends, church, movies, news shows, news papers, etc... We are taught most of our lives to not experience life because something bad might happen.  We have forgotten to listen to our own intuition.  I know I have throughout the years, anyway, and I was one of the lucky ones who got to run around all over the neighborhood, even when it got a little dark.  We cannot escape it.  Maybe you are one of the lucky ones who still has a bit of their intuition left.  Hold on to it tight.

     Once I dealt with this at an intimate level, I had a huge break through and quietly sat doing art, practiced my drum, and took a short hike around the Red Canyon visitor Center.  It felt incredibly freeing and calm.  I was back, centered with the Universe again.  That pause and release, that listening to my body and knowing something was "off" (as a good friend of mine says), is the first step to taking back our rightful intuition.  We all have it, but we don't always take the time to listen to it.  As my Dad told me, "We can't fear what hasn't happened.  We can only fear what we make up in our imaginations.  Fear is in the future, and we can't know the future."

Bryce Canyon

  Yesterday morning, I hiked for 2 and a 1/2 hours in the Red Canyon area.  I did not see another human being.  It was so very quiet.  I walked with confidence and with care.  Teddy and I again shared lunch at the top of a Red Canyon Mountain.  My phone had died, my camera battery died at the top, and I did not worry a bit.  I felt at one, and I enjoyed hiking alone with no fear. 
   I did become frightened about a minor episode last night, but I had gained the confidence to know that I did not need to panic, I could take care of myself, and depend on family and friends to be there for me if I needed.  Nothing happened, but yet again, it felt good to be able to handle a situation by thinking clearly and doing what I needed to do.

     Today I am in a new town and checking into the local art and hiking scene.  I have grown used to the quiet, so I don't know how long I can handle the road traffic and people noise.  I give it 3 days max. 

The Red Canyon Hike

On My Own

     I have just left the southern part of the Staircase Monument Escalante in Utah.  Little did I know how different my experience in camping was going to be moving into Utah.  I knew that change was coming and that I was venturing into a new stage of my journey, but of course I knew not how this would occur. It turns out, I had to face some real fears.  Up until now, I have been in various types of campsites, some better than others.  Escalante is a whole different ballgame, particularly in the south near the Arizona border,  It is rugged and wild with few places to "hook in", so to speak.  Two angels, however, pointed me in the very same direction, one being a young woman ranger from the Grand Canyon area, and another more seasoned woman camper working at the BLM Visitors Center in Utah.  Both of these women told me to go to the same canyon, Cottonwood Canyon.  That sounds fairly innocent, but it is truly not.  It is gorgeous, however, but there are really no sites to speak of.  This is rancher country and pretty untouched, one of the newer monuments.  If you want to get a feeling of the southwest without much tourism, come here.  You get a true feeling of what it is like to be alone in nature that totally engulfs you.  The quiet, particularly on a weekday, is extraordinary.  I was able to tuck behind some very large boulders with my camper.  The road going through the monument is sandy, curvy and very hilly. 
     I cannot say that I was completely without fear.  I had never camped in a dispersed area, (public land available for camping but not particularly set aside for it), and I had never camped in my camper without hookups of any kind, not to mention complete solitude.  I knew this would probably happen, and I had a feeling that it needed to happen in order to strengthen my courage.  I had a low level of fear these few days simply because it was so wild.  Even the trails were hard to follow, but I must confess, I did not do any preparation in regard to this.
     My first hike in the morning and early afternoon ended up following cattle paths along a trickle of a river that went along this canyon.  It was ever so quiet, and I had to bushwack my way through a good bit of brush to find the paths.  I did get lost on the way back and had to talk a bit to myself to keep my calm.  Luckily, I knew where the road was and I knew where the water was.  I enjoyed it, but felt a little uncomfortable with really no trails to speak of.  At this point, I decided to try another trail in a narrow canyon about 10 miles up the road.

Along the way, I stopped at a broken down car.  Antone, the owner of the car, was waiting patiently, more patiently than I would have, because he had no phone service and a serious problem with his car.  Did I say that we were in the middle of no where??!!  Another couple who I had met at the last trailhead had also stopped to let Antone use their phone.  We all talked for a bit, and through the help and phone service of Rick and Susie, were able to get hold of his insurance agent, and what we thought was a towing service who would be on their way.  I told Antone that I would check on him on my way back to my camper after hiking.  Susie and Rick, my new hiking buddies, and I went on into the Upper Hackberry Trail in the Narrows.
     This hike was in a slot canyon.  Quite beautiful, cool in temperature, with a sandy bottom.  It is such a different feel in these slot canyons.  They tower over you yet almost embrace you at the same time.  We ended up going into a tributary to see a sand fall that was quite extraordinary.  I must say, it was nice to visit with people after my long hike alone in the morning.  My low level of fear subsided for awhile. 
     Now mind you, I was not terribly afraid, but our culture teaches us to be afraid of being alone in nature, of strangers, and of wild animals, particularly if you are a woman alone. I had fears of all these during this time.   Our culture does nothing to prepare women to be careful, yet have confidence in themselves that they can handle many more situations than we typically do.  I am not talking about women who have grown up with this county lifestyle, but someone like me who grew up in a city.  I so wish that women and this new generation of men were being taught how to take care of themselves using learned skills and an attitude of respect and confidence so that we could experience so much more of the world without fear. If you already feel confident and have these skills, please do not be offended.  I just think that for women, in particular, we would be able to transfer that kind of confidence into our normal lives and for our own needs a lot more seamlessly. 
     With all that said, I did have low levels of fear, but instead of backing out or not getting out on these hikes and roads, I did it anyway, with care.  I have learned that courage is more about walking into fear and being OK about walking in it rather than being oblivious to it.  I feel that this experience was preparing me for what is to come.  I do not know what that is after today, but I am in Bryce Canyon area now and decided to do more dispersed camping out in the Dixie National Forest.  This place seems like a breeze compared to where I was, despite not having any water, electricity, or neighbors. 
I feel that it is now time for me to start gaining more courage and strength for some reason, so here goes. 
     As a side note, Antone was still at his car when I returned.  The tow truck had not come, so we called again, and he waited until way after dark for the truck to find him.  He,  I might add, had this confidence I have been speaking of.  In fact, I just returned to my camper here in Bryce and received a call from him saying that he is almost home to Idaho.  That's what getting to know strangers is all about.  Thank you, Antone.  We need to stick together as wonderful human beings.  It does take a village.

The Drive Out of the Canyon the Next Morning!