Three Weeks

It’s been 3 weeks since the loss of our pup and companion, Gandaulf. We got his cute paw print from the vet that compassionately help us let him go. Yesterday was the first day I didn’t cry over my coffee and all morning. I almost didn’t cry at all.

The hardest thing to reprogram is my brain. Let me explain; I know our boy is gone. I know he’s not coming back. We also talk often about the hardest forever decision we made and I think we both are getting better knowing that it was also the most selfless decision we’ve made concerning another living being. We’ve spent the past few weeks looking for the right words. The words that tell us it’s gonna be okay…someday.

A good friend posted exactly what I needed to hear. My tears are not shed for Gandaulf, but actually for me. He has been released from this world of suffering and moved into the universe as energy we can draw on through our memories. I can feel him in my day in and day out movements, sometimes I stop at the van entrance and wait for him. The day will come that memories with bring me joy, maybe through tears, but at least he will make me smile again.

Part of any journey, after a death, is picking up the millions of pieces of your life that are scattered about in places you didn’t even know or forgot existed. Then put one foot in front of the other and live! Living for us includes travel, so that’s what we’ve been doing.

I told Chris that when Gandaulf passed, she and I needed to go on a around the world trip. First stop…Ireland.

We’ve rented a van, imagine that?! We picked up a cute conversion camper van from Indie Camper Rentals. https://indiecampers.ie/campervan-hire/dublin/dublin/2023-05-08/2023-05-22/nomad/offer/special. Next we have planned a driving tour around Ireland of over 1200km.

We are starting in Dublin and traveling south along the country, this map is going the wrong direction, but symbolizes the trip.

We have given ourselves two weeks to sight-see, hike and explore the rich history of this small island.

We are too excited to find the words to express our giddy, child-like wonder that stands in front of us on this long journey of travel and cultural immersion. The world is our oyster, as the saying goes. Travel without our side-kick will be lonely at times, and for sure much quieter. The hardest part of jumping off is always that nagging fear that rightly resides in the back of everyone’s brain when it comes to getting out of our routines and facing the unknown. Traveling for an undetermined amount of time, to places we’ve only seen in magazines and blogs. To relieve yourself of all your worldly possessions and travel with what’s on your back, what fits in a carry-on roller bag and a small daypack.

Someday we will settle down, when the wanderlust turns old and our body’s desire a place to call refuge. By then, perhaps we will have found a place, or a couple of places, that check off all the blocks. Until then, tune in for the next adventure to begin and we invite you all to travel vicariously with us. Thank you all for your support while traveling in The Turtle (sleepyTurtle our van). We may be down one body, but his traveling, fun loving spirit will continue to travel along with us. Peace

Dream Sweet Sister

I look on the mountains.

I look in the woods.

I look on the rivers.

I wander through pastures,

In fields of green.

I lie down in the clover.

I dream…

I dream I see you,

On a hilltop too far away to hear my cry.

I run as fast as I can…

There you are again,

Staring off into the sky,

Too fixated to see me.

I dream…

I dream I hear you on the wind…

Through the leaves of the trees,

The crackle of the campfire.

I see you in the soaring bird.

I hear you in the echo of the canyon.

In the free flowing river.

I see your brilliance in the sun.

Your complexities in the stars.

Your smile in the bright moon.

My dream…

It is no dream.

You’ll never be gone.

I don’t love with my eyes.

You’re in my heart.

You’re in my memories.

My dreams.

Now take flight and

Know it’ll be alright.

Sweet dreams

Sweet sister

Sweet dreams

JA 2/22

Ancient Cottonwood

Twisted.

Gnarled.

Reaching for the sun.

Existing for eons.

Starved.

Flooded.

Branches bearing heavy snow.

Wind beaten.

Baked by the sun.

Life giving shade.

Standing in silence.

Dark green to

Golden yellow

Your leaves.

Memories of thousands of seasons past.

A sentinel of time.

Roots deep in the mother.

Earth’s child.

Strength and forbearance.

Barren and silent.

Tree.

11/21 

My new book

 I believe that we were born free spirits, destined to meet each other from birth. We met in our late twenties in Salt Lake City Utah in 1991, after I had moved from Connecticut, 2,300 miles. One of the first things Chris asked me was…”would you be willing to sell everything you own and travel with me?” My answer didn’t take a second thought…”Of course” and the world opened up to us. We hit the road in 1993 and haven’t looked back since. Our need for travel and discovering new cultures, took us all over the world.

We traveled long before. Cell phones, GPS and computers. We had to get maps from AAA, travel books and a big paper map for each state and country we planned to see. When the cell phone and GPS came out, the world became so small and our lust for travel and increased our thirst for overseas travel.

Fast forward 32 years… we set ourselves up so we could retire early. We started planning a life overseas. My dream of being a writer, photographer and artist finally came to fruition.

This book is a collection of travel memoirs taking you, the reader, along with us on our travels. Submerse yourself in the descriptive words and stories. Laugh and cry with us. Feel our fear and our joy, but most of all, enjoy.

Here’s the link to the Amazon book

https://a.co/d/dxpbRIF

Repositioning

Life on the road is no cake walk. Compromise, silence and space, solitude and good old Mother Nature. A tough re-entry into the world of civilization and then back to our happy place.

Leaving the back roads and beaches of Mexico was… in itself…hard. It was in essence the hot and humid weather and the need for COVID-19 shots, that drove us back to Utah. We have been officially off the “road/van life” for a month now. We have been doing service projects for friends and family and van fixes …including one very inconvenient tow, all month. May 2021, has been Service Month… literally.

We have helped with a remodeling project.

We helped recondition and sell a speed/ski boat.

Assisted a great, close friend to buy a new car. Helped our sister and brother-in-law get a good deal on two great eBikes and of course, we both got our vaccinations for COVID-19.

The spread of COVID-19 has slowed in the US. People are being vaccinated. We spent more money than our normal monthly budget for unexpected van repairs, spent a few nights in long stay hotels, and had to give up the van twice for two different repairs, one, after a minor mishap with the trailer.

My body has decomposed in this month, it’s shed thick calluses off my feet, lost at least half of its once healthy glow, my sinuses blazing with rivers of snot from seasonal allergies, lungs full of said rivers. My mind has shut down as things around me change, and I’ve all but shaved my head.

The routine has changed from outdoor living in peace and solitude, a primordial existence with Mother Nature, to City life. Now, four hard walls with a shingled roof, flush toilets and showers on demand with plenty of hot water, shelter us.

We ran to Kara’s house, loaded up the Hyside raft we sold, the IK we sold, the oar frame on the new roof rails, everything else suspended from the ceiling of the trailer. All the toys in one heavy ass trailer. It sucked the gas mileage from North Salt Lake, UT to Twin Falls, ID to under 9mpg… keeping it at an avg. of 68 mph. SUCK…

I drove the whole way with gusty tail winds, strong head winds and strong sideways burst…nuts! The Memorial Day holiday traffic is evident, from seeing 3 crashes south bound in Utah, to plenty of slow traffic driving north. We listened to an ebook talking about how US drivers fall asleep or just plain old don’t pay attention because our straight roads are hypnotic.

Nothing in the outdoor recreation world has changed since COVID-19. The prices of the recreational equipment, led by the demand and short supply, is up by thousands over retail value. That’s what has lead us to the west side of Idaho, a place we’ve yet to experience. Once we offload the extra weight we will head back to the Northern mountains of Idaho to decompress… as has become our norm… 3 days of mostly silence between talks of destinations and a sorta plan… at least a direction. Time is of no urgency unless a set destination is planned.

We spent the first night at a Harvest Host golf course right on the Snake River and a beautiful river gorge.

The silence is welcome. All 3 of us, Gandaulf included, need to hear nothing but the wind, river, birds, crickets, our own breath and heart beat. Until the controlling and aggressive “city personalities”…calm down and a synchronicity of calmness and kindness resumes… this is how the re-entry, repositioning, has been. Sometimes you just need a little space. Doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. I can fight it or move through it, it’s always a choice, and 15-30 minutes of uncomfortability in a day… doesn’t ruin the whole day.

Baja Decompression: The World as it is

We have been back for almost a month and it feels like a year. The amount of stimuli experienced in one day is a month or twos worth on the road. It’s hard to find any solitude when we get back to the city and live out of the van. The last time we slept in the van was April 27th. We’ve been camping out in my sister-in-law Kara’s house for the last two and a half weeks.

We got our first COVID shot and are now waiting for the second and then back on the road. This was our first service work. This month has been dedicated for the benefit of others. We helped out Kara any way we could with tearing out and replacing walls and old carpet for hard flooring. I mowed the lawn and keep up the outside and helped when I could inside. I have a real aversion to being inside lately. The van is cool since it’s a small comfortable space filled with few frills and only the basics to live, eat and sleep.

We had so much planned for this month but best made plans fell to the wayside when we got new tires on our trailer, let the service shop hook up trailer to the van, then said trailer proceeded to come unhooked and ran into the back of the van. Another small detour in life on the road. The body shop has had her since Wednesday and we pick her up on Monday morning. It’ll be nice to have her back.

Being back in the city really changes you after a while. The roaming soul falls asleep and the restless one takes its place. We are both ready to get back into our home and take off towards our next goal, Bend, OR. We’ve read about it and drool every night. With COVID restrictions loosening up, the Canadian border could open by July maybe still enough time to venture to Alaska. We have nothing left here except family and friends, what more do you need? So we’ve decided this would be service month, giving, just because. It’s part of the whole be kind thing. It’s been fun to use our talents to help out where ever we can.

There are things we don’t have in the van, like TV. This is the number one robber of time. It’s an old pattern I thought might be broken while on the road, but for at least one of us it remains the same. You become used to having a flush toilet and shower right there, no effort needed. Hungry? Want something to eat but don’t feel like cooking, go get something. These are just a few of the “city habits” we pick up and become softened by. I like living like a wanderer, seeker, explorer, and pioneer. When in the city, there is too much to rest on…to depend on. You loose that sense of one with nature, with your own self.

Things always happen beyond our control, we still just roll over it, but the stress meter climbs everyday.

Irresponsible Reality

Baja Decompression

Part One

I’m sitting in my van outside Kanab, Utah, USA, being pummeled by 30-50mph winds from the SSW… storms coming. I’ve been driving only an hour or so but it’s been a constant two handed battle against the wind. We choose to find the shelter of a grove of pinion and juniper down a well worn red dirt road off Rte 89.

We can’t go outside, the fine silt of red rock desert gets into everything… even if closed. Within a minute you’re seeking shelter as your eyes feel as if they are wrapped in wool. Another gust and a burst of red sand whips across the dirt road and into the side of the van. It’s just impossible to do anything so what better time to decompress.

Part One: The Landscape

I look outside the window of the van to a familiar yet foreign landscape from the desert of Baja California and Sur, let’s just call it “the Baja”. The greens, although vibrant, seemed muted in some way. The alien foliage and fauna of the Baja became like wandering through a page of a Dr Seuss book. The odd shapes and contorted tress, the giant cacti that made travel off road dangerous. One of my favorites is the giant Cardon Cactus, which was blooming when we left. I was told it only blooms at night and attracts bats to is succulent nectar. They fly to the flower, a large white multi petal flower that protrudes off the body of the main cactus, on a soft green, fruit like bulge, and the bats drink till they literally fall away as if drunk on its nectar.

The desert in the Baja was coming to life even under the cloudless skies. The plants have adapted to this unforgiving landscape and put forth a spectacular sense overload of heavy sweetness from the most delicate of flowers. Again, these small delicate flowers are also a feast for the birds and the bees. They buzz and flit and fly in and out of the trees and flowers, some looking for the flowers and others, those the flowers entice. In such a harsh environment the whole place thrives.

The sky, well the sky definitely rivals any cloudless high Rocky Mountain summer day. The key word is cloudless. The sun shines brightly 365 days a year. The humidity rises quickly through the day near the ground, only to be heated up, creating well placed clouds that create the most enchanting sunsets. These vibrant sunsets can turn the entire bluish green sea, into the most beautiful pink and golds. The sky and sea become one without a horizon.

The mountain ranges, always visible from any location on The Baja, are the work of some amazing artist. The newly formed peninsula, by a geological time frame, has the most diverse mountain ranges of anywhere I’ve ever seen in such a short relative distance. The bed of the ancient sea was thrust up by tectonic activity, pushing with it all manor of fossils and bones. The huge sea creatures that became entombed over eons now exposed in the rock slides of the ancient sea floor as it tumbles hundreds of feet and is exposed by the elements.

Some mountains bear the scars of mining, big corporate and small village operated co-ops. Others soar to the highest of heights and seem impenetrable. These lofty giants can catch entire weather systems and wring it out on one side or the other. The great arroyos are testament to the power and ferocity of these rains.

Further south, in Baja California Sur, there is evidence of volcanic activity. These beautifully sculpted mountains are verdant green from the constant humidity of this region of the peninsula. They have hidden entire stone Catholic missions and preserved ancient cave paintings from indigenous tribes of Cucupas and Puipui.

The sand on the southern beaches are softer and the seas range from a kite surfers dream, a surfers haven, a wave lovers and thrill seekers dream… to the calm blue green waters of The Sea of Cortez and Bay of California attracting lovers and fishermen, tourist and drug runners. The Sea pours into the Pacific and the two become undistinguishable.

My mind can still see all this clearly. Our two months exploring the Baja has waken a sleeping dragon, sparked creativity and created a deep spiritual connection with the very essence of this strip of land. Life here is an intricately choreographed dance of life and death and rebirth/rediscovery.

I focus my eyes back outside the van as a gust of wind shakes us and whistles through any space it can find. The beauty of this red rock desert, speckled with sage brush, tall lodge pole pines, stunted cedar, pinion and juniper, brings me back in touch with my love of the deserts of southern Utah.

The New Cycle

I hear a slow methodical drum beat as I walk on this ground

Ground of the ancients whose footsteps blessed this land

Whose love of life and their surroundings

Brought them peace and serenity

Brought them a simple existence

Land that cradled them in her bosom

Provided for them

I walk silently…carefully

Each footstep a new story

The new cycle begins

Another trip around the life giving sun

Another chance

Today I leave behind only my footprints

A blessing in each

Someday I will return here

In the spirit of death

A shadow of time

I will become the elder

The keeper of woman’s wisdom and love

Repeat

I open and close one hand

Then the other

I sit up…tears streaming down my face

My eyes seek out any light

I am alone in the silence

My head pounds

My eyes clench shut

My heart beats fast

My breath is short and stuttered

I wipe the tears from my eyes

I can still see the horror behind my tightly clenched eyes

I open and close one hand

Then the other

I hear the voices still clearly in my head

I hear a small voice

“Please stop” it says

I search for the words to the mantra

I slowly repeat them, over and over again

I utter the words, “please stop”

I open my eyes

Still only darkness

The memory of the dream fades

I dry my eyes and settle back

Afraid to close them

I tremble from the cold night air

I look deep into the inky blackness of night

I wish for a moment

My mind could be as empty as the darkness

But the darkness holds monsters

My fears… my secrets

I wrestle with my fear and drift back to sleep

Repeat…

My Tears

You can’t see my tears…
They’re really not there.
They’re actually memories melting away from a troubled mind.
You can’t see my tears…
I won’t let you.
Instead I’ll wear my heart on my sleeve.
You can’t see my tears…
My heart heaves.
I struggle to breathe sometimes.
I won’t let you see my tears…
I am stronger than that.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
My tears will show themselves…
I’ve lost that control.
They are my heart overflowing…
With happiness
With sadness
And with love and compassion for others.
I will show you my tears…
They are part of me.
Share with me, if you will, this journey with all it’s twists and turns.
Hold my hand
Dry my tears
Assure me when I am confused
Give me hope when I feel hopeless.
Here are my tears…