Hot! Hot! Hot!

I don't have the brain cells for an eloquent post about my trip to Moab, but I hope I'll be able to muster them soon, because it was a fantastic trip! And it was hot. Which is why I'm so tired. I stayed up way too late last night enjoying the moonlight and balmy summer night, and this morning, I was awake the minute the sun came over the canyon wall (about 7:34) and my tent became a canvas sauna. The thermometer officially hit 100 yesterday, and it was brutal. I like roasty weather, but this was in a class by itself. Probably because there's no shade in all of Utah.

Normally, I'm Prius-like in my water consumption, but yesterday I was a '67 Charger. I killed about 5 Nalgenes, more than I often do in an entire weekend of Adirondack hiking. The heat had me doing a lot of things I wouldn't normally...dripping sweat, longing to go swimming. As I discovered with wearing a hat several summers ago, the heat you retain by covering up is more than offset by getting your skin out of the sun. I might need to invest in a hippie skirt and peasant top. The relief of changing from sandals into wool socks and boots was surprising.

I don't know if the ravens are always that noisy, but they seemed to be suffering in the heat a bit, too. They kept cawing agitatedly, and would sit in the junipers, with their mouths wide open, making noise. I don't know if this is a cooling thing, or just normal behavior.

It does appear that this is normal heat. As I was leaving, the radio announcer in Cortez said it was going to be a mild day...high of 90. Then another one today was lamenting at length that it's expected to be"cool" for the 4th. I was thinking 60s; he then said 86. The bank thermometer in Cortez on Sunday said 226. I would have believed it in Moab.

Full report tomorrow.

Mexican Hat

The evenings here are REALLY nice when we're not having apocalyptic weather. Summer started last weekend as if on cue, and the last couple of evenings have been sunny and warm--my favorite kind! Of course, I killed a mosquito as I was typing that sentence, so I guess it has its drawbacks, but I am determined to enjoy what I can of my favorite time of year even in the absence of the Lake and my favorite ice cream haunts. I slept in my tent last night, and I'm writing this entry from the picnic table behind the Homestead. All is unusually quiet, save for the birds, and the sun is at a most agreeable angle, soft and cozy instead of sharp and scorching.

Last night, I went with one of my colleagues to the Mancos Renaissance Festival. We were a little late for the festivities, but even in full swing, it wasn't on the same scale as the one in Sterling (or Castle Rock--went when I lived in Denver, too). It was mostly vendors, some of them with only tenuous ties to the Renaissance era----Sylvie the cat just walked by-I haven't seen her in ages! She wouldn't stop for me, though----There were the requisite turkey legs, mud shows, and armor tables, but no jousting, no man-powered rides, and the entertainment was belly dancing. The rabbi's family went today, and said it was basically just a place for anyone who owns any type of costume to trot it out. It's cute. I'm glad to have the opportunity to try on rural life for a little while (before I leave for Megalopolis). I'm really looking forward to the fireworks next weekend, and hoping that my *starring* role in the Waldorf teacher's conference won't prohibit my attendance on the 4th. (I'm excited for the Waldorf teachers to be here in 2 waves over the next 2 weeks--kind of tying in my past experiences by helping run a big meeting for teachers)

And speaking of the rabbi's family...we're hosting Panim Works, a Jewish youth service project thing. Making the kitchen Kosher has been a seriously massive task! We're getting really awesome vegetarian food lately, though. So Rabbi Jason and his wife & kids, from Washington, DC, have been here for the last week helping get things ready. His girls are 9 & 4, and nobody's told me the boy's age, but I'm guessing 7. Having them has been wonderful. They're intelligent & engaged (and mature, for a change!), and it's great talking with them at dinner. I wrote that sentence about the parents, but it could apply to the kids, too. The 9-year-old is friendly and super helpful, and the 4-year-old keeps us all in stitches. I'll really be sorry to see them go.

I got to do a real shuttle for the first time today, not just to Cortez or a local park, but all the way to Mexican Hat, UT. They've always sent people in pairs on shuttles; I have no idea why I went alone today, but I'm not complaining! It was a gorgeous day for a gorgeous drive, and I feel really lucky to have been chosen for the job. It was downright hot in Mexican Hat, and I added to my sunburn (I forgot it, Mark!)--forecast for Moab, where I'm headed for a day off tomorrow, is 99 degrees. Why I'm going to a major National Park during 4th of July week is a question I can't answer, but I digress. Mexican Hat is named for the upside-down sombrero-like rock formation just outside of town. I was all set to stop for a photo shoot, but then didn't, so hopefully I'll pass by it again. I feel like I've described this stuff to death, and I dont' really have any new analogies, but no sooner had I decided I'm sick of rocks than I came upon Comb Ridge and by Valley of the Gods and decided I'm not. Especially today, with the vivid blue sky and CGI-looking cloud puffs. There is no way to photograph it adequately. The wild variety of the 360-degree horizon is what makes it so incredible. Come see it for yourself!!

The towns I drove through today were small. 2 gas stations earns you County Seat. The only traffic lights I saw were in Cortez. They all have big, full-size schools, though. There must be a lot of kids with awfully long bus rides. I don't know where they would live--you can see for miles in every direction and there's never anything there but rocks and scrub. And occasionally sand. The churches are another story. Before I got the shuttle assignment, I was planning to go to church in Mancos today, and I want to at least once before I leave. But Mancos is enormous compared to the rest of these places. It has cross streets. The churches of Southern Utah are tiny, ramshackle, and made of the oddest materials. (Come to think of it, everything is made of odd materials...I suppose there's not much wood around) They're very sincere, though. It would be neat to see what goes on in one.

Adding horses to my list of open range animals I've had to stop for.

My "weekend" starts tomorrow. I sketched out a plan for my remaining weeks' sojourns, and this week was supposed to be New Mexico, but I just can't get motivated to go there. I've reallotted it for mid-July; we'll see if it happens. Tomorrow, I'm going to drive to Moab and go to Arches NP, and camp there (I think, if there's room for me); then come back on Tuesday via Telluride. Gotta see if I have any hikes around there. Originally thought I'd include Grand Junction/CO Nat'l Monument, but it's a bit ambitious for 2 days. I don't know if I'll touch I-70 at all on this trip, which is sad. I have to let go of the idea of seeing everything, though. I just can't.

I'm wiped out, but I had fun today. The drive was a blast, and I enjoyed chatting with the group and seeing what goes on "in the field". One month of work is over already, and with 2 weeks of Waldorf, that doesn't leave much left! Chatted with my supervisor yesterday and got really positive feedback, so I'm feeling at peace. Statements like that really invite disaster, but at this moment, life is not bad.

Stories

Since I STILL won't be sleeping outdoors, instead after dinner I donned sandals and rain gear and went for a walk. The logistics of inflating my car tire in the rain prevented a walk in town, so I headed off down our road, past the sheep and llamas and goats. And remembered the cemetery. I have a "thing" for cemeteries. Mt. Hope is one of my favorite places in Rochester. In Newfoundland, I got waylaid by cemeteries again and again (and especially enjoyed finding graves bearing names I was familiar with from GBS songs). I can kill hours in cemeteries with little trouble. Yet somehow, Mancos' Cedar Grove Cemetery hasn't exerted much pull on me.

I discovered many of its stories tonight. There were horses on some of the stones. One had a jockey statue in front of it. I see a lot of horses around town, but never thought much about it. It makes me realize how little I know about this place. It doesn't warrant a write-up in any of my guidebooks, and I really don't know what it's about. There seems to be a relatively high infant mortality rate. But also a lot of residents who live to be extremely old. If you're a guy here, you seem to have a better chance of outliving your wife than you would elsewhere. And a noticeable number of couples both died in the same year. Coincidence, or the rigors of mountain life (and driving)? Oddly, a great many of the tombstones were new, even with dates of death in the 1930s and before. Was the cemetery moved? Did a stonemason come to town? Maybe folks who couldn't afford tombstones during the Depression finally put things right in recent years. These things pique my curiosity about this place and its people. I saw one stone with the name Wetherill--the family that discoverd Mesa Verde. One told the story of an uncle who was born in 1859 in Alabama and shot in 1894 at (over?) a mine. Perhaps the most interesting tombstone commemorated a couple born in the 1850s, with a pictures of a mountain, a cabin, and a covered wagon. No indication where they came from or why.

This hits on what intrigues me about Mancos. Why is anyone here? You could do worse, yes, but what would make you stop here? Driving around the state this week, I was struck by how much more attractive many of the towns I saw were. Ouray is a superlative, but Buena Vista, Saguache, Pagosa Springs, even Gunnison...All were more charming, better equipped, more likeable. Especially in the case of some of the admin staff here, who are intelligent, educated, worldly folks...I always wonder what on earth they're doing here. And I don't know. The obvious answer is to find out. I've been here nearly a month, and the only establishments I've entered in town are the grocery store, the Conoco station, and the post office. Granted, there's not a WHOLE lot else. The library is moving and will be closed for most of my time here. But I've never been to the Columbine, the local bar; or the Millwood, the restaurant; or the bakery, founded by the guy who used to run this place. I've never entered the galleries on Main Street, or walked in the residential sections. I do think about staying at the motel every time I return from days off. My own stale-smoke-smelling, Brady Bunch-era room has a great deal of charm. But of course, paying for a room in Mancos would be ludicrous. I do need to get out there, though. I'm here for 11 weeks, and almost 4 of them are already gone. I haven't even been to the health food store! (at least not when it's been open)

Mesa Verde was hazy and blue tonight. For a brief time, when I worked at City, I was taking pictures of the Cutler steeple every afternoon when I took the mail for a walk. It was an expensive proposition with a film camera, but for the couple of weeks I did it, I got some neat shots and different expressions. I could do the same with Mesa Verde. It's always there, and yet it changes every day, often in the most beguiling ways. I may well miss it when I leave.

Speaking of missing, I was reading Bob Hallett's blog, and he mentioned a radio program (or "acoustical film") about Newfoundland history, specifically discussing the lasting trauma caused by the decimation of a generation at the Battle of Beaumont Hamel nearly a century ago. This stuff intrigues me. I don't know what sort of income I'll have when I get back home, but I hope I'll be able to ring in 2011 in St. John's. Many have asked how I'll survive a year without seeing Great Big Sea play. I don't know. It also seems like a hopelessly long time before I'll be able to go to Newfoundland again. I want to go for New Year's because 1) St. John's is a city that knows how to throw a party 2) I'd like to see the place all dressed up for Christmas and 3) I want to go to the museums. St. John's has a number of excellent museums, but I've never been to a single one of them. The Rooms, the Geo Centre, the Fluvarium, the Newfoundland Railway Museum--all sound really good, but in the summer, exploring the streets and parks, and watching ships in the harbour are much too compelling to turn my back on for indoor pursuits. I suspect that sitting on the water will be much easier to resist in December, and I might see the Rooms at last.

Why We Hike

I wish I had a camera right now. One advantage of wifi is that I'm writing in an Adirondack chair on the covered deck by the pond, with a view of Mesa Verde. It's not actually raining, but thunderheads over all the mountains have convinced me to put off tenting again. *sigh* In front of me, though, the sun is setting, backlighting the clouds like a cheap painting, and Mesa Verde is glowing dusky pink. It's extremely nice. This is my last night wimping out, though.

So, anyway, about hiking. Monday, I got out of the car twice, not counting quick photo-ops and 2 air mattress forays. Once was to hike to Lost Lake on Cottonwood Pass. The other time (several times, really), was at Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. Black Canyon is really dramatic. If the Grand Canyon is a 10, this one's a 9, with some extra credit for not being completely overexposed. It's quite incredible for being so obscure, and incredible that it is so obscure. The walls are sheer, dark gneiss with infused magma forming abstract pink patterns. You need a guide and/or mountaineering equipment to go down into it at all--it's just miles of impressive cliffs, with the vivid green Gunnison River running at the bottom (and, despite the fact that it's almost two Empire State Buildings deep, you can hear the river rushing). I heartily recommend it as a priority on anyone's vacation itinerary. But don't do it like I did.

My guidebook said you can't hike into it, so I wasnt' too fussed about getting there at 4:15. There's a 7-mile scenic drive, several pullouts to gawk from, and you're on your way. I discovered this is a totally unsatisfying way to see a natural wonder. WAY too much car involvement. To properly appreciate something like this, you need time to commune with it. Time to settle into it. Time with just you and the rocks. Hopping in your car to drive 1/3 mile, then walk a 300-yard trail a dozen times just ruins the moment. I absolutely loved the canyon, but next time, here's the deal: Arriving at 4:15 IS the way to go, but the next thing to do is set up camp in the campground on the rim. Pop into the VC, picnic at Wilson Point, then watch sunset from there or Sunset View. The next day, go to a couple of the ranger talks, hike the Rim Trail, and pick a couple of short viewpoints to walk out to. This gives you time to actually get acquainted with the rocks, appreciate them without wondering what time Wendy's closes, and get away from the Texans.

In contrast, on Cottonwood Pass, I had insider information about an unmarked hike to a mountain lake. Instead of the fleeting (well, sort of) experience of driving over the pass, I had time to settle into it, let it become real. I heard the birds, over and over and over. I walked in the snow. I saw the tiny little alpine flowers. I smelled the pines (and got the sap all over my hands). I took pictures and left footprints. I had quality time with the mountains, and I feel like I was really there. I was able to notice little things, and to have an experience that wasn't vacuum-packed into a to-go capsule. Let this be a lesson to me in my future wanderings. An automobile visit is like speed dating--you're not seeing, you're just deciding if it's worth seeing.

I discovered a few other things worth seeing, too. The ride to Buena Vista on Saturday night, when I went over Wolf Creek Pass and up the middle of the state on 285, took just over 4 hours. Coming back via Cottonwood Pass and the San Juan Skyway took 8 driving hours. It's ALL mountains. The "Million Dollar Highway", between Ouray and Silverton, is definitely something I need to see more of. Ouray itself is utterly charming, squeezed tight between the mountains. The road has no shoulder at all, just a white line and a massive drop. I'm glad it wasn't raining, and I'm glad it was one of the longest days of the year...I'd have no desire to attempt that when it was at all dark or slippery. I hope I'll have more pictures and details to post about that before the summer's over. It did get dark before I got to Durango, which also was pretty neat. The sun falls behind the mountains long before it sets, so the snowy peaks are the last to go dark, glowing in the twilight long after the headlights come on. It also is pretty striking to look out into the darkness and see headlights snaking through some improbable place, knowing it's where I've just been despite the odd angle to where I am now.

I saw my first elk of the summer near Ridgeway. May I see many more, always a safe distance from the car. I also saw a cattle "drive", a huge herd of open-range cows walking up the winding road just before Gunnison. On and on they came, mooing and not much caring about the approaching cars.

Durango is another town that begs exploration. It's pretty big, maybe Boulder-size. I was supposed to go today, to pick up a participant who's arriving early, but Seth (or someone) had the date wrong. I was all ready to leave, when I went to check her flight information and it turns out she's arriving tomorrow. Unfortunately, I'm on dinner tomorrow and her flight gets in at 4:30, so the task will go to someone else.

I see headlights moving across the middle of Mesa Verde. I'm probably headed there on Friday.

Sleeping Around

Just got back from walking out to the road. It's been stormy since about 4 this afternoon, and I felt compelled to get out in it. I was tempted to get in the car and go into town for another walk. We're not getting thunder any more, but the clouds are still moody, though interspersed with clear patches of stars. A toenail moon had just come up while the horizon still glowed pink, and Mesa Verde loomed next to it all in silhouette. The wind was fierce, and the horses in surrounding fields galloped back and forth, probably agitated by the weather. Our neighbor's peacock cried, although that's more routine. A thrilling night for a walk, but not so much for tenting. I'm sleeping inside for the second night in a row.

Saturday, I ran up the hill during the Navajos' picnic to bring down my tent, with stakes and poles thrown inside and tarp dragging, because I didn't want to pack it wet and rain was visible on the horizon. Well, it never did rain and I slept inside both nights in Buena Vista, so I'm glad I wanted to move the tent anyway. And I was just getting to the point where I could walk straight to it without roaming Deer Hill in the dark, profoundly grateful for the reflective tabs on the rain fly. I bought an air mattress in Montrose yesterday because Target is somewhat less evil than Wal-Mart; and besides preserving my Thermarest for backpacking, it also would be nice to be somewhat elevated to keep me out of any streams that may trickle in during the afternoon rains. My daily meditation on Friday was about turning your home into your palace, however humble it may be, so I decided that's what I need to do with my tent. Even if I'm living in a 6x8' canvas home, that's the space in the world that's MINE. So if I can't stand up and turn around in my shelter, does that mean the Humane Society would disapprove?

I stayed with the parents of a college friend this weekend. Saturday night, there were a bunch of us there, but I slept on the couch because it was well after dark when I arrived. Sunday, after rafting, everyone went home to Denver and work in the morning, and I remained for the second half of my weekend. As the only guest, I scored the guest room, which was like a 5-star resort after the conditions I've been living in. I sat down on the bed and just kept sinking, like a commercial where people fall into a cloud or fresh laundry. The room was all mine, I couldn't hear anything, and I wasn't grossed out by the thought of my clothes touching the floor. In the morning, I had a shower where I COULD turn around (and a very creaky floor that reminded me I had stayed there before--funny how some things stick with you), and brushed the searing sunburn on my scalp over a spotless sink. I don't know when I'll get such luxury again.

As a final parting gift (besides the bag of home-grown spinach--yum yum yum), my hosts told me of a hike on Cottonwood Pass, my chosen route "home". I have a lot more blogging to do about my trip, and pictures to post as well. It was so scenic, it wore me out.

Today's big treat was a trip to Wal-Mart. Nothing like spending copious amounts of someone else's money. I've been trying to remember if I've ever driven a pickup before, but feel very much the southwestern cowgirl pulling into Cortez in a giant white Ford. It accelerates and handles differently from a car, but driving it wasn't that bad. After relieving Wal-Mart of their stock of trial-size lotions and toothpastes, I went to the hardware store to explain cleaning groovers to the old guy so he could direct me to appropriate gloves. For those of you I haven't yet enlightened, a groover is like a boxed-off milk canister for pooping in when you're on a river trip. With the limited space and huge amounts of people who take multi-day rafting trips, the only option is an extreme carry in-carry out policy, so when river programs come back to basecamp, we have to deal with their shit. The name "groover" comes from the marks the rim used to leave in your backside before people thought of fashioning toilet seats for them. Unfortunately for us, the seat is yet another part that needs to be cleaned, and the old gloves were getting a bit porous, so that was one of my errands today. These things are some of the most desirable jobs in basecamp, and I was today's lucky winner.

Watch this space for a synopsis of rafting, Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park (ever heard of that one?), and a whole lotta mountain driving!

Wifi, for better or for worse

24 hours into having "my own" internet, I'm sick of the sight of the computer, but can't put it down. I have dishes to wash (my own, instead of the literally hundreds I've done each meal this week), a trip to pack for, a tent to hike to, Harry Potter to read (for those of you who are familiar, he's just been assigned to get the memory from Slughorn)....and still I sit on the couch, uploading photos and writing emails. Also tried to burn some pictures to CD so I have room to take some this weekend, but that didn't work. I'll worry about it later.

I have been adding pictures to old posts, and I'm not done yet, so keep checking if you're interested (especially if you're not on Facebook). It appears to only let me put 5 pictures per post, which forces me to pick a representative sample--not a bad idea at all.

This week has been all or nothing--we have a camp here put on by IHS (Indian Health Services? not sure) to teach Navajo kids how to be healthy. We're feeding them a lot of packaged food and chemicals and giving them drink mix to put in their water bottles so they learn to make good food choices. A typical day: make huge breakfast, wash hundreds of dishes, clean the bathrooms & showerhouse (which are frightening), wash hundreds of dishes after lunch (I didn't get picked for all-week lunch & dinner crew, so no prep for me), do some task, putter for the rest of the afternoon, wash hundreds of dinner dishes, mop, drop. We're all coming to dread the mealtime cleanup, but the afternoons are quite pleasant. I got some quality time with Seth today, setting up the picnic area and starting the fire for the sweat lodge. The weather was sunny and finally warm (it hasn't rained all week--fortunately, since I wouldn't trust the rain flies on a lot of the tents the kids are in), and we spent a couple amiable hours sorting out things that need to be done at a gentle pace.

Tomorrow, the intensity only ratchets up. We usually get done with breakfast clean-up around 10, and the kids' families are showing up for a BBQ at 11. In that golden hour, we need to get all the food ready, finish setting up picnic tables, clean up camp, and be ready to direct parking. Then, of course, there'll be all those dishes. Mrs. Owner went out and got disposable plates today, but we used them at dinner, then washed them afterward, so not sure it's going to help much. We're expecting everyone to be out of here by 3, though, so I'm hoping we'll get an early day. I have a 4-hour drive to make, to Buena Vista, so I can get on a raft at 8:30 Sunday morning. I've never been rafting before, and am looking forward to the warm embrace (relatively speaking) of people I've known since my housemates were in knee pants.

These last few posts haven't quite met my goals for eloquence or relevance, but hopes are high for better days ahead!

Online!

I am very tired, and cooking breakfast at 7 tomorrow. But I am very excited because I'm typing this post on my very own (sort of) computer! I'm connected to the internet wirelessly! (And in the staff room anyway, which I don't have to be any more) Next time, I'll blog from my tent. Aside from learning how to install grommets on a raft today, I've spent most of my time cleaning up after the Navajo children who are having camp at Deer Hill.

I had yesterday off, though--had a veg-out day in Cortez. Shopped at Wal-Mart. I'll have to iron my hands, but at least Father's Day is set. Hung out in the park. Watched the ducklings. Went to a library--things like this give me immense pleasure. Saw "Up" at the twin theater downtown. It was enjoyable, but not the magical fun of "Nemo" or "Cars". I love both Ed Asner and Christopher Plummer, but unfortunately forgot that it was the voice of the latter until the credits rolled. How I didn't recognize him, I'm at a loss to explain. Cortez is a vegetarian wasteland. Makes it easier not to spend money going out.

I really need to go to bed, but I'm having so much fun playing with pictures. I'm going to try uploading some here. If it works, stay tuned for more! And check the old posts!

Erratica

Just some updates, for those who care:

Internet on the laptop is proving to be a glacial process, but progress is being made. I'm still not connecting to the wireless network, but my computer is recognizing that there is an internet. One step at a time...

My transcripts arrived from CU today. So all I need for Korea are passport-style photos and apostilles. The photos I can hopefully get taken on my day off tomorrow. The Colorado apostille requires a simple form and $10, so that will get mailed away tomorrow. The New York apostille...sigh. The notarization I have is wrong, as I feared, and both it and my criminal check have to get signed off by the county clerk before they can go to Albany. I really wish I'd discovered this when I lived in New York. I was also warming up to the idea of doing a homestay, but according to my recruiter, they won't set one up for you, you have to find it yourself, and nobody the recruiter has ever dealt with has done one. So much for that. At least it makes the decision easy.

We have 50 Navajo kids camping out here this week. Unlike the Deer Hill programs, these guys don't do their own dishes. Neither do a couple of the interns. My skin is going to disintegrate before the week is over. It's a camp designed to teach the kids about being healthy, so one aspect of it is carefully portioned, "healthy" food (albeit processed & packaged, but we keep our mouths shut). This healthy food does not account for vegetarians, though, so dinner is not really provided for me.

I did a vehicle check on a '90 Suburban today. It made me really nostalgic. Looked very much like the '81 Pontiac I drove in high school. And like the '70s Suburbans people had when I was a kid. Crawling in the "way back" (as we used to call it) made me feel 8 years old again. Not a moment of much consequence, but a neat vibe to enjoy for a minute.

I met Sylvie, the Deer Hill cat, yesterday. Nobody here likes cats very much, but she has finagled her way into acceptance. She's gray, about 12 years old, and lives in a sleeping bag-lined can on top of the lumber pile. After staking me out for about 10 minutes, she came over and let me pet her, so I hope we're buddies now. Visiting her would be great stress relief, although apparently she ranges pretty widely in the summer.

Day off tomorrow--errands, Cortez for walk and movie, MAYBE Mesa Verde if I'm really feeling motivated. The Korea paper chase is going to require a lot of effort. And postage.

Got a fat pack of hike suggestions today (thanks, Valerie!). I'll have to make sure I put them to good use.

Arizona and Other Occurrences

Let me begin by saying that I am *this* close to having my own computer. I got the new operating system installed on the laptop, but one of the drivers failed to install...naturally, it was the internet driver. I'm on it, though, so with any luck, in a couple days I'll have personal internet and the ability to transmit pictures. I think that's what this blog needs.

I set up my tent last night. It was bliss!!! All I could hear were peepers and the low hum of someone farming in the distance. I did it at dusk, and couldn't find the nifty spot I'd picked out last week, so eventually I will have to move the tent, and get a more sustainable setup (a tarp over it, an air mattress--maybe with sheets!--inside, flatter ground, etc), but for now, it will do. It has a few logistical issues, the lack of plumbing and electricity, and a walk through the mud to the nearest civilization among them, but I'm quite happy with it. And happier today than I've been in a while. Talking to the folks at home didn't hurt, either.

Got my contract for Korea printed, signed, and faxed. 2 Apostilles and some passport photos (and a frightening FedEx bill) to go and I'll be set! The contract mentioned the apartment they will provide for me, but also mentioned the option of a homestay. Hmmmm. The homestay was what MADE my time in London, but I got very lucky that time--luckier than I can count on being again. Staying with a family can give you a warmer and more in-depth experience, and be almost like having a personal concierge--someone to point you in the right direction, answer questions, offer guidance. It can also be Big Brother, Real World hell. An apartment of my own is sounding SO nice, but I do have the rest of my life to live in one, and only 1 year to live in Korea.

I did mention Arizona in this post's title. I hiked into another canyon and looked at another cliff dwelling. This time with a real Navajo guide. It's getting pretty run-of-the-mill, but it's still impressive. The canyon was quite fetching, with a real river with real water in it (a little bit, anyway). Once again, the drive was the most amazing part. It's crazy how often the landscape changes, and how many different ways rocks can express themselves. At one point, I had a canyon in my rearview, mountains in front, neverending flatness to the right, and abrupt CGI-looking massive rock protrusions on my left. It truly never stopped impressing me. Four Corners did, though. Last time I was there, in 1998, we arrived late at night when it was closed, walked around the gate and back to the platform, and had the place to ourselves to take pictures and do whatever else we could conjure up in 4 states at once. This time, it was crowded, campy (though I was not feeling as charmed by this as I otherwise might), and uninspiring. I couldn't take Lumphy's picture because the wind would have taken him away instantly. I was hesitant to have my picture taken because nobody looked like someone I'd want to hand my camera to. I'd planned to scope out the Navajo jewelry, but my heart wasn't in it. Some places really beg companions. The license plates were interesting--as varied as the landscape. I don't know if I've ever even see Yukon before!

I have this Wednesday off. I think I'm going to have a quiet day in Cortez. The Chinese food is tasteless, but I love the "urbanness" of it. (Anyone who's seen Cortez might be amused by this) I think I'm going to see a movie and go to the grocery store! I went to City Market on Thursday, and found being there strangely comforting. They accepted my college-era Soopercard. Sometimes it's nice to anonymously go about one's daily business. There's a satisfaction to it. One can also ponder why Wegmans doesn't have the self-checkout. They really should.

Day off, Day one

Natural Bridges suffers from big brother syndrome. It's possibly the tiniest National Park in Utah, just the 3 bridges with a road and a trail to connect them (plus an overlook where you can see bits of a cliff dwelling). The difference between bridges and arches, if I have this right, is that bridges span a river or some sort of water, and are carved out by it, while arches are formed by different forces. I had been speculating on that prior to reading about it and had decided it was just a marketing thing. At any rate, I'd been planning to hike the 8.6 mile trail that connects all three bridges, but when I inquired at the VC, the ranger said not to bother--it's only a 10-minute hike down to Owachomo, and the canyon that leads to it is (in his opinion) boring. Just hike from Kachina to Sipapu, he said. So glad I took that advice. I was pretty done with canyons by the time I got back to Kachina, and definitely didn't fancy 3 more miles to Owachomo. I got very lucky with the rain--it poured intermittently all day, but not while I was hiking. I really enjoyed the ladders and railings on the steep hike down (less so the hike up), and the canyon was pretty, but anti-climactic after Canyonlands. There were a lot of green plants and deciduous trees to hike through in the canyon, which was really nice. Each bridge was different, and scenic in its own way. They are old, young, and middle-aged (determined by thickness)--there is some speculation as to how much longer Owachomo is going to last. Anywhere else, I probably would have been blown away by the whole thing. With all the scenery here, though, it was just another day at the office.

I did get blown away later. Driving away from Natural Bridges, I was on a pretty typical Utah country road, with scrubby vegetation and open range. Other than some cows, the most diverting thing I saw was a guy, laying on the side of the road with his head on the white line, listening to his Ipod, totally oblivious to anything else. Whatever. So I'm cruising along, when suddenly a sign announces that the pavement is going to end. Huh? 15 mph. Huh? Turns out I was on top of a mesa and had to get down. So somebody cut a road winding down the face of the mesa. It was one of the most awesome things I've ever seen. Suddenly, there's a flat valley floor hundreds of feet below me, with Monument Valley popping up in the distance, and bunches of other colorful formations. I wound slowly down the mesa front, marveling all the way. I don't know how to articulate how amazing it was. Moki Dugway is something everyone should see before they die. It's the only way to get it.

I was in a state of awe for quite a while. It was hard to make any time when I had to keep stopping to take pictures. Monuments, painted desert, canyons, mesas, odd rock formations. Unbelievable. Then I got to Kayenta and the spell was broken. It is a town without vegetation or aesthetics. A colorless village built on a massive parking lot. When you drive by a subdivision, you can see every single house; there's nothing to block your view. Kids bounced on trampolines on "lawns" that were indistinguishable from driveways. I could not live there. After that, I was just tired, and worried that my free campground was going to be full.

Getting to Navajo National Monument seemed to take an eternity. The turnoff would never come, then it came and it was miles more to the park. Hotel parking lots in Kayenta were jammed, and my guidebook had warned that the campground gets full in the summer. Sunset was approaching. As I drove, I scouted potential places I could camp in a pinch. Difficult in the southwest, where there are no stands of trees to kip behind. I needn't have worried--there were sites to choose from. I randomly chose one of the two campgrounds--found out later the other one had running water. Had no tent stakes, but as it wasn't raining, that wasn't an emergency (as long as I find them soon). Set up the tent, parked myself at the picnic table, wrote postcards, looked at the stars, and enjoyed myself immensely. Why don't I camp more often?

Korea!

I got an offer from Seoul! There's still a buttload I have to do, but I've been working on it. Need to find a printer...there's tons of documents. I should be leaving August 22. Nervous, and excited. And an apartment by myself sounds pretty ok!

I was in New Mexico for 5 Minutes

Just got back from a really lovely trip and it's sort of crushing my soul to be here. I would badly like to set up my tent, but rain is predicted for tonight, and I need to seam seal and find the stakes (yes, I got to my campsite at 9 last night and discovered I didn't have any stakes) before I sleep out in the rain. It was pouring ridiculously when I left here yesterday (it feels like a week ago), and the weather map showed a big column of rain stretching down to Chaco, New Mexico, where I was headed. The only place that looked clear was Arizona, so that's where I went. That and Utah. Hiked Natural Bridges National Monument, drove a route for which there are not enough superlatives to get to Navajo National Monument, camped (for free!) there, took the guided hike to a cliff dwelling today (I'm collecting cliff dwellings), drove another awe-inspiring road to get to Four Corners, got groceries and Chinese in Cortez, and I'm back. To find Hotmail is still not loading, though apparently it's only on Deer Hill's computers. What more incentive do I need to get my own laptop running? I'll post a full report on my travels when I have more energy and patience and am not feeling inclined to kick the computer.

Cord Severed

Had a few stray thoughts I wanted to share but don't remember what any of them were. The thing occupying my mind right now is that I haven't been able to log in on Hotmail for almost 2 days. I'm feeling very bereft. If you sent me a message, I hope I'll get it soon.

I got my first piece of real mail today! It's the new operating system for my laptop, so I hope to have that up and running as soon as possible after I return from New Mexico (or Arizona or Utah or wherever I'm going). Then watch this space for pictures!

I'll add to this post if I remember what I was gonna say...

Korea?

Just hung up the phone with John in South Korea. They said the interview would take 10-30 minutes; it was just 10. I hope this isn't a college application kind of thing, and I just had a skinny interview. I was .500 on my worries--the buzz on the staff phone here did make it very hard for me to hear him, but if he had any accent at all it was merely an Asian overtone to perfect English, so I didn't have any trouble understanding him. He didn't ask the questions I had answers prepared for, but I don't think I said anything too stupid. Not sure what the rejection rate is for these things. It's pretty much out of my hands now, though.

It was a good night to have an interview--very quiet around Basecamp. A group of kids left today, staff are training on "The River" (I don't know what river), my two favorite colleagues are off today & tomorrow and are likely at the Ute casino, and nobody's stirring anywhere. Nobody will be in Basecamp until this weekend, so work is light (we got done at 5 today-- unheard of!), and we've been instructed to enjoy having 2 days off because no one knows when it will happen again.

This scarcity of "weekends" puts a lot of pressure on to make good use of this one. I'm feeling drawn to Arizona & New Mexico, although there isn't anything particular in either state that I've had my eye on. I have had my eye on Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado (not to mention about a million other things here that people recommend), and there are Arches, Capitol Reef, and another section of Canyonlands National Parks in Utah that I'm sure I'd like. I could go to the Grand Canyon, but I've been there twice before, and I can't afford a mule ride to the bottom, which is what would make it worth going. Right now, New Mexico is the top contender. Hit Four Corners, then swing into Farmington and down to Chaco cultural national historical something-or-other. Camp there, then wander back through Durango. It might actually be nice not to consult my guidebooks too heavily and just wander about. What I really need is some down time, but I don't want to stay here, so I'll have to find it out & about.

Apparently, there have been some major storms in this part of the country, but not here. It's been unusually cool, but we haven't even had our afternoon rain the last few days. This seems to be a trend with me--the summer I was in England, all I heard was "It's usually much warmer than this". Hope that doesn't continue. I didn't bring enough winter jammies!

Another day of checking tents and packing for the staff resupply, then New Mexico!

Canyonlands

Hiked 12 miles today, the first time in a long time. Tired and sweaty and sore, but it feels great! Hiking was the way to go, too. Canyonlands is a 34 mile drive from the highway. You wind through open range and rock formations that constantly change in shape, size, and color. Once you're in the park, canyons enter the picture as well. It was very beautiful, but I wasn't feeling the awe. I was feeling time-pressured, though, as a 2-hour drive was actually 3 (2 hours gets you to the turn-off), and by the time I consulted with the rangers and twisted over 3 miles of dirt road to the trailhead and ate lunch and packed a pack, it was 1:30. 5-7 hours, the brochure promised. They're usually conservative, but so is my hiking speed. I had a few misgivings, but chose the Druid Arch trail because it promised exceptional views of the Needles, with the added benefit of not being heavily traveled.

My average speed on a High Peak is 1 mile/hour, factoring in all rest stops. The beginning of the Druid Arch trail is steeply uphill, and I was mentally calculating a midnight return. The trail levels out though, crossing rocks, passing overhangs where it looks like stone-age spaceships landed and liked it so much they never left. The trail is split into 5 sections, and I was feeling pretty good when I reached the first signpost quickly. I felt far less good when, after navigating some narrow tunnels and scaling shale, I reached the first signpost again. ??? I must have doubled back somehow and been too dumb to recognize it. I was worried about time already, and that was without doing sections twice! On the second pass, noticed some steps down, which quickly led to the floor of Elephant Canyon, where I would be spending the next several hours trekking in veritable solitude.

There was much to enjoy on the canyon floor. Lizards scurried from underfoot constantly, hummingbirds fed on the misplaced-looking orange flowers that popped up here and there, the ground beneath my feet changed from sand to red dirt, to striped rock again and again. And on top of it all (literally) was a new vista at every turn--spires and rock formations of every description, mostly in a graduated red-white spectrum, and all with a swirly, water-washed texture. The rocks at eye level had holes and caves as if someone had gone at them with an ice cream scoop, or there were clay-y formations in the recesses that looked like miniature cliff dwellings. As I entered the final (and longest) section, I was anticipating the final quarter-mile, which the trail map described as extremely steep, with a ladder and some rock scrambling. Every time the trail rose off the canyon floor (which it did aggravatingly often, for no discernible reason), I wondered if this was it. At long last, Druid Arch hove into sight. Ha! I still had probably half a mile to go. There was no mistaking the last quarter-mile. Straight up a scree gully...is it still called scree if the rocks weigh more than I do?

At the top I found my awe. I stood beneath stolidly elegant Druid Arch, and looked back along the canyon I had just walked, this time from the top. Spires for miles. More canyons in the distance. Swirly ledges laced together like flower petals lining either side of the chasm. In every hue of red and pink Crayola has ever named. It was exceptional. Transcendent. I wanted to look at it forever. I was completely alone, and happy to be. It was pretty by car, but infinitely better on foot.

Household Dramas and Natural Beauty

Quick, name 2 things that annihilate your knees. 1) walking downhill 2) doing the 1st set I walked up Deer Hill again tonight, and the hazy sunset inspired me to drop into stance and do my 1st set. It was really fetching, with the sky a dusky pink and the mesas over yonder in silhouette. I was able to really settle, and let my mind go free. It was really nice. Then I had to goose-step back down, lest weight on my knees collapse them.

The walk started as a search for a tent site. Last night, my housemates all went to watch basketball at the local watering hole. I had a lovely time journaling and watching Mary Tyler Moore in the house by myself. I was just delving into Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince when the louts came home. An hour later, they were shouting, playing music, and generally being rowdy. I heard a few "shhhh"s, I also heard a "I don't give a shit." I was really tired from the day and ultimately realized that if I wanted to sleep, I'd have to leave. I went to the storage room to retrieve my sleeping bag and slept on the van seat that serves as the staff room couch. It was actually very quiet and reasonably comfortable. But not a permanent solution.

So today I secured permission to set up a tent, got a wonderful suggestion to buy a shower curtain in lieu of an expensive groundcloth, and walked out to the oaks past the sage field to find a good spot. Which I did. But with heavy winds and hail predicted for tonight, and my roommate away camping (her days off were consecutive!), I think I'll stay in the house tonight. The 3 good housemates are all in the mountains; I'm here with the goober and the jerk. They're going to go drinking in Durango tonight (and get home how?); if they're noisy again, they can talk to the hand. The long and lasting hand.

I had to go on a shuttle today with the jerk, last night's ringleader and the only one who didn't apologize to me this morning. I was looking forward to the shuttle (where we meet a group and swap new supplies for old), but not 2 hours in the car with J. I made conversation with him, though, and I actually think it was a good thing because now we have a tiny bit of rapport to counteract a mutual lack of respect.

The shuttle trip was great, though! It was under an hour in the direction of Four Corners, but it was like being in another country (and I guess, technically, it was, since we were on the Ute Reservation). The mountains fade to occasional mesas, and the land is dusty and flat, with a sprinkling of phenomena I believe are called buttes--the Monument Valley types of things. It was unbelievably windy, and the abandoned-looking building where we met the group was the only one visible in any direction. I really dug it. I can't wait to go back there. I intend to do Four Corners at some point, but for my day off tomorrow, I'm headed for Canyonlands.

Mesa Verde, Part I

Used my day off to visit Mesa Verde National Park today. Figured since I look at it all the time from my front porch, I ought to see it for real. It's huge! It takes 15 miles of mountain driving just to get to the Visitors Center (which doesn't sell individual postcards--I guess that era is over, but that's a separate topic). You're literally driving up to the top of the mesa...it's all switchbacks, and the speed limit never gets above 45. In several places you are warned not to park or stop your car due to the danger of rockfall. It was a quiet day there, but still saw license plates from probably 25 states at least (plus a couple of provinces, including Quebec). I also saw someone who had driven over the edge. She did it in the right place--the heavy growth stopped the car before it went very far. It'll be a trick to get it out, though. The original road was far more dicey--they've put in a tunnel to eliminate the "knife edge". Driving in Colorado in the early part of the 20th century must have been true adventure.

The views are incredible. You can probably see all the Four Corner states at some point. The mountains are less dense here, with wide, flat areas between, which is striking in its own way. You look down from this massive height to land with the appearance of a concrete floor, but ringing it in the distance are snowy peaks, each rising individually. The flora changed several times on the way up, and that's not even taking into account all the fire damage from 5 major fires in the last 15 years. Charred trunks and skeleton trees abound. The cactus and yucca were in bloom, though, and really captivating. In the fauna department, saw a wild horse, a raven's nest (if that's what it was...the bird was MASSIVE), scurrying lizards, and scat that I would guess is from a mountain lion (right inside one of the pueblos).

I went to Wetherill Mesa, the road less traveled. On one little trail I did, I was completely by myself (and you can tell, 'cause the trees are all just trunks). Had a guided tour with a bozo ranger (the actual Navajo guide was doing the later one) of Long House, the 2nd largest cliff dwelling in the park. It really was quite impressive, but hard to get your head around. Human hands mixed and laid this mortar 1000 years ago. Our ranger did a good job of conveying the information, even if he sounded like a recorded CD that couldn't quite settle into a track. The Anasazi grew corn, beans, and squash, and moved into the cliffs for food (living in the caves freed up farmland), shelter (caves are comfortable temperature and sheltered from elements), and water (seep springs). Since all the recent wildfires were caused by lightning, it seems to me that must have been a problem for the Anasazi, too. Nobody mentioned that. I should probably go to the museum there. I don't know enough to ask good questions, and for all I learned today, I'm still not clear on most of the whys and wherefores of Anasazi life. I also went to the Kodak House Overlook. I initially thought it was sponsorship (though that was silly--where would Kodak get the money?), but turns out it's called that because a Swedish archaeologist in 1891 kept his 65-pound camera there.

The Step House trail was closed by the time I got back to the parking area, and there's an entire other mesa to explore, so I'll be back.

I think I'm doing a shuttle tomorrow, the job I've been most excited about. I'd better learn how to back a trailer!

House elves at summer camp

I haven't said anything about Deer Hill yet, really. I hiked the eponymous hill tonight, and maybe found a new meditation spot. It's just the perfect distance for a bit of exercise and outdoor time, and has the most lovely 360 degree view.

I live with 5 other interns in "the homestead". It was built in 1890, and is not the 1890 Victorians of Rochester, but more like a miner's cabin. I thought it was great that there were 4 guys and 2 girls..we'd be able to spread out in the bunk room. Ha! It just means 2 of us share the tiny room. I have a sub-twin bed (with a vinyl mattress), a baby dresser, and a dining room-style chair. They take up all the space I have. And I get half of a night table. I can't open my dresser drawers if I stand in front of them. There's no place to hang up my bathrobe (which is ok, since it's chilly at night and I've been using it as an extra blanket). It is a cute place, and would be a wonderful place for 1 or 2 people.

The other interns are young! I was warned about this. Now I understand why most of my friends are older, and why I get along with the seniors on the Sierra Club trips so well. They regard me as a somewhat pitiable curiosity. I really like the field staff, though. Just had a great conversation with one of them about alternative education. Have some websites to check out, and need to find out more about Waldorf. As I had forgotten, doing things you may not want to do is a capacity acquired with age. My supervisor is from Oneonta. We had a little "New York moment" today when they were talking about the size of something and I said, "It's YOOGE!"

Our days here can be long or longer, but the work progresses at a very natural pace. 3 days feels like it's been 3 weeks. I have prepared and cleaned up after a lot of meals, mopped, cleaned bathrooms, taken out trash, lubed zippers and patched tents, gone through coolers of food just back from the field to determine its fate (and trucked it about on wheelbarrows), done copious quantities of dishes, washed tents, practiced backing trailers...what'd I miss? And there's tons more to learn.

Everyone here is extremely nice and genuinely helpful. Everyone here brings their dog to work. We compost. But it's still Colorado, and so the sprinklers blast away while it rains.

Mesa Verde is visible from my front window. I'm headed there tomorrow.

Mancos

Drove into town tonight with the intention of going for a walk, but just couldn't muster the energy. I'd been advised to park in front of the library and try out my wifi--no dice there, but it was nice to see the town. Mancos is very small, but it does have a radio station! Most of the roads are dirt, and the high school is one of those square brick buildings that towns all over the country have turned into district administrative offices or added on to massively. Mancos' is as is. There are a couple of cool, rambling, western Victorian houses--I'll have to look up the town's history. I'll also have to actually take a walk if I ever have energy left. There were cats everywhere. Alas, I'm still getting winded from walking up inclines or jogging short distances.

The road into town is very pleasant...all fields with wagon wheel irrigation systems stretching to the mountains. Just a little snow is visible over the llamas and goats. It was nice to be on my own and in "real" space for just a short time. Sitting in my car, I almost recognized myself.

I'm surprised at how much there is to recognize here...lilacs, red-wing blackbirds, cottonwood trees. It's still plenty dry, though...could walk through tall grass at 6:45 this morning without getting my feet wet, and the tents we hung on the line were dry in an hour (and fortunately, we got them in just before the afternoon thunderstorm cut loose).

I'm likely getting a new OS on my laptop that will allow me to post photos, so stay tuned.

Rocky Mountain High

Drove over the mountains yesterday. After 5 years of seeing them daily, I got a bit inured, but that has worn off. As soon as I turned west, I was enchanted, and coming over Kenosha Pass took my breath away. I've driven up 285 many times, and negotiating the curves and slopes didn't seem like any big thing, but suddenly the immediate mountains fell away and I was looking out over South Park, a huge valley (immortalized on Comedy Central) bounded by massive peaks, including the Collegiates. Many are still snow-covered. There were rain and thunderstorms around me all day, but I never experienced more than a few sprinkles. In Colorado, radio is intermittent, and you learn not to be bothered by a little static in the background.

In the midst of the mountains are huge valleys, completely flat almost to the horizon, with roads stretching out straight ahead. I was almost convinced that Mancos wasn't really in the mountains, but there's always another range up ahead.

I finally drove over Wolf Creek Pass, a longtime family legend, which I never did see during college. Over the course of a long trip, you start taking the driving for granted, and things like preparing a snack, reading the map, and taking pictures become acceptable to do without stopping. On Wolf Creek Pass, however, even changing the radio station is not advisable. Unlike many of the other passes, where you work your way up gradually, Wolf Creek is more like a crude drawing of a car going up and down a mountain (picture an inverted "V" and a sketched sedan), but with switchbacks. And the scenery is stunning. You approach through a narrow canyon, lined with high rock faces, pine trees, and the eponymous creek (more like a river after all the recent rain). There are tunnels and shelters to protect the road from avalanches. Suddenly, you are above the treeline, and then you're smelling brakes. I'm glad my vehicle didn't run away, because the runaway ramp comes after several hairpin turns. If your brakes cook, you're cooked too.

If you haven't seen the Rockies, you must. If you have, see them again. They don't disappoint.