Well, it’s a marvelous night for a moondanceWith the stars up above in your eyesA fantabulous night to make romance‘Neath the cover of October skies
~Van Morrison
I got up early Sunday morning and finished packing up. I topped off my freshwater tank from the hose in Barbara and Lark’s front yard, and gathered all my outdoor solar lighting and plants and secured them inside the van. When Barbara and Lark were up and moving, I went inside. I said good-bye to Lark as she left for church and then I had a bagel with Barbara before getting one final shower and making a run through the house and back yard to be sure I’d not left anything behind. I got on the road, stopped at Safeway for dog food and a few other items and then headed south to Bloody Basin Road again. I was lucky enough to get the same spot as last time, down in a valley, far from the rest of the world.
It was windy and on the cool side, but the sun was out, and Cosmo and I settled in. He was just totally worn out by all the activity of the prior week and playing with Molly. He slept most of the day while I caught up on e-mails and checked maps and weather for my next adventure south toward Phoenix. I made lunch, took a walk, and eventually had a short nap. It felt so good to be out in the boondocks again.
The week started out quite cool, with temperatures in the low 70’s during the day and down to 50⁰ most nights, but each day got progressively warmer.
I managed to remain in serious exercise mode, watching my calories, carbs and fat and making sure my protein levels are high. I stop eating each night no later than 8:00 p.m. and don’t eat again until after my exercise routine each morning. That gets a little later each day. The first day I woke up starving and was dizzy by the end of the workout; each day I manage to keep my fast going a little longer until now I mostly have breakfast after 10:00 a.m. The workouts are hard (for me) since I had gotten very out of shape, but I’ve persisted, and afterwards I feel so good to have accomplished my goal. My morning routine has shifted from making coffee and grabbing a sweet snack to just having black coffee as I peruse the headlines. Then I move outside to work out and listen to my favorite playlist while I learn to translate the workouts I used to do with barbells and dumbbells at the gym to similar exercises with rubber bands and a kettle bell. It is (mostly) easier than I thought. Cosmo sits impatiently on a nearby blanket, looking for deer and cows (we saw both several mornings). When I finish, we both go inside for breakfast.
The new routine, along with the shortening hours of daylight have moved me closer to completely ignoring the clock. I have said for years that since I rarely have any place I need to be at any given time, I should learn to just eat when I’m hungry and sleep when I’m tired. If I get up and the sun is over the horizon, I don’t need to panic that I’ve overslept. I can lie in bed for as long as I feel like. Or if I wake up and it is dark, I don’t have to worry about trying to go back to sleep so I’ll be well rested for the day ahead. The day ahead is flexible, and I can take a nap if I get tired. This is very hard for me, but it is made much easier in the middle of nowhere with no humans around, no work to get to “on time,” and nobody expecting me to do anything, let alone to do something at a specified time.
I spent much of most days just taking in the scenery from my back door. I’ve been in more beautiful places during the summer, but those places were often inhabited by very annoying people. Where I’m camped this week is beautiful in its own way and part of that beauty is the stillness I’m surrounded by–the subtle sage greens of cacti and scrub brush, the muted yellows of some wildflowers and the brilliant blue sky.
Cosmo often alerts me to cows up on the ridge, and sometimes he wakes me up in the middle of the night when he hears coyotes singing in the distance. Deer have passed by several mornings.
Lessons From The Road: I’m acutely aware of my extremes in locations. One week, I stay out in the middle of nowhere, not seeing another human for a week and the next week I am in some friends’ driveway, surrounded by other houses, people and lots of vehicles driving by. In a couple weeks I’ll be at a hybrid spot, with others in vans, pull-behinds, and some bigger rigs nearby, but far enough away to have some privacy. I’ll interact when I choose, and isolate when I want some alone time. I’m fairly surprised at my ability to adjust to whatever the situation happens to be, and I realize that each has its place. Last week I did lots of cleaning, rearranging, and shopping for things I needed and can’t often find in my travels. I did some repairs and got ready for the fall and winter ahead. This week, it’s self-improvement time, getting a grasp on my eating and exercise habits and once again reconnecting with nature. That is difficult for me in a city, where I can’t see the stars or the Milky Way, and instead of hearing coyotes in the distance at night, I hear the rumble of a pickup truck whizzing by pulling a trailer. I enjoyed catching up with friends last week, playing scrabble, and going to thrift stores and out to real restaurants. This week I’m enjoying just sitting outside at night, waiting for the moon to rise and taking in the stars and planets revealing themselves one by one. Both are important parts of my life, though they couldn’t be more different experiences.
Back in my remote spot off Bloody Basin Road, it was often too cold and windy to be naked (but not always!) But I found a new way to express my primal self: When I got a shower, I just dried off my hair with a towel and ran my fingers through it to detangle a bit. I played ball out in the wind with Cosmo and when I went back inside, my hair was thick, wavy and wild. I caught myself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the wildman who looked back at me. Last week, I would have immediately re-wet my hair, and brushed it until dry and tame. This week, the look suited me perfectly. All muss, no fuss. Wild and free as the wind.
That’s all I got.
See you down the road!
Scott