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!