And suddenly, it’s Fall! But I digress…
With plenty of time before my next friend meetup I fell into an easy rhythm along the coast. After my morning routine I’d either stay at the campground and do a hike, or set off and stop along the way and do a hike. I’d stop at scenic vistas, take in another view of the epic, rugged coastline, maybe snap a photo and I’d be on my way. Somewhere around 4:00 I’d roll into the next campground, play a little guitar, make dinner, make a fire, play a little handpan watching the flames, put the handpan away and sit with the fire and my thoughts till the fire was reduced to smoldering embers and go to bed. At which point I would promptly lie awake for over two hours. Rinse and repeat.
One of the scenic vistas was Natural Bridge. I’m quite sure this is the place from my bike trip after college where I ignored the fence or the warning sign because I wanted an artsy photo lower down. I scooted down easily enough to where I was several feet above the cliff, but when I tried to go back up I realized the loose shale was perilous. Every step had to have purchase. I remember putting every ounce of concentration into getting back on solid ground. As my fellow traveler Nancy and I got back on the bikes, I had an eerie sense that I had dodged death that day, and in another universe I hadn’t made it. As I stopped for water, I looked up and saw three trees rising in the mist at the top of the hill.
Several months later, I was still living in my dad’s apartment in NYC on the tenth floor over Broadway and I had a dream in which there was all this noise and traffic of the city, but I was calm and peaceful because I had a special window on the inside wall I could open any time and see a beautiful nature scene. In the dream I opened the window and saw three trees rising from the mist at the top of the hill, and was instantly transported back to that day.
While reminiscing this memory at Natural Bridges, I had the thought, “What if I went just a little ways down, to see what it was like?” But I have a fully developed executive function now, and I know how to use it.
Another bike trip memory was tripped when I stayed at Elk Prairie Campground. Back then, there was a wooden fence separating the prairie and a sign that said, “Please don’t make eye contact with the elk. They consider it threatening and may charge.” That stuck with me. Now there is no fence and the sign says, “Wild elk. Do not approach.”
The campground is in the heart of the Redwoods. I duplicated a memory of hiking way into the forest, sitting down and listening to the complete silence. And as if on cue, just as before, a fly went by, the only sound breaking the hush.
Redwoods are the only conifer that start from seeds or new shoots from the roots. Sometimes clones emerge halfway up the tree. A common scene is the “mother” at various stages of vitality or decay, surrounded by “babies” who are still gaining nourishment from the main root structure. The younger trees seem almost protective. Many lessons on the Web of Life and opportunities for anthropomorphic indulgences.
I turned inland yesterday, and while I have been loving the old growth rainforest for weeks, it was refreshing to see drier forests, deciduous trees and mountains. And suddenly it’s Fall!
I’m in Lassen Volcanic National Park. Most campgrounds are closed because of the shutdown. This one is open, but being managed by a single volunteer named Mary. All the law enforcement personnel used the shutdown to take vacations. Mary knocked on my door and offered me a different site, because my reserved site was right next to a very rowdy school group. She was not feeling great about thirty kids with vault toilets, no running water and 30 degree temps at night, to say nothing about the fresh bear scat and kids not following food protocols.
Now I will hope to get some sleep. It’s after 2:00AM.
PS: Some were asking about my new sleep/studio setup. Here it is. I am very proud of the “bridge” to the bed I built for $7 at a lumberyard! Without it I was having to do a combo Plank/downward dog/Twister move.
