When running a relay, you generally have two or three "legs" to run or, in other words, sections of the race when you alone carry the baton for your team. You anxiously accept it from the previous runner and start your leg with enthusiasm and energy, overwhelmed at the wonder of being able to do it. Then before long, your muscles and lungs begin to tire and by the end of your leg, you are a gasping mass of sweat and exhaustion. You are so DONE and beyond ready to hand off that stupid baton to the next runner. And when your last leg is finished and you never have to run again, you sink into the back of the van and hum "Forever in Blue Jeans", or whatever song, from your iPod, had just pulled you in that last mile.
Sometimes life is like a relay.
A few weeks ago a woman who lived in a neighboring town, drove into the woods and ended her life. Why would she do it? HOW could she do it? Leaving what appeared to be a devoted husband is tragic, but leaving her two young sons ....... is unthinkable. There is no way to understand it. What was it that she could no longer bear? As I think about her, I imagine she felt she was carrying something that had become too heavy with no one to hand it off to. So she just relaxed her grip and let go...... Then a few days ago the popular and talented actor/comedian Robin Williams also took his life. What was his burden? What was it that pulled him downward?
I don't suffer from depression like so many people seem to. Like the woman in the woods and Mr. Williams probably did. I would never consider doing what they felt compelled to do. Absolutely never. But .....
..... Sometimes I fantasize of escape. And lately my fantasy comes in the odd shape of a 3 - 400 square foot box on wheels called a motorhome. I ponder ditching our semi-large house with all its demands and upkeep, my yard with its never-ending maintenance, and all the stuff...... and just driving away with my husband. And not just the stuff, but away from his obligations and pressures, that become my obligations and pressures. Away from all the gaps that constantly need to be filled. Away from the things that somewhere along the line, he agreed to carry and so I must carry too.... or else helplessly wait for him to collapse under them. Sometimes I just want to sort through all that stuff, keeping just a few precious bits..... like my children.... and leave the rest. Needless to say, I know..... of course I know .... that my load is nothing compared to the loads that others carry, like the poor woman in the woods, like RW, which leaves me feeling like an ungrateful, whiny schmuck.
Nonetheless, this leg of the race has been tough. Like the last one and the one before that, and the one before that. I'm tired of running it. I'm tired of the duties, obligations, and responsibilities that never stop.... and the endless needs of the needy. I'm tired of, dare I say it .... my own resentment. I'm tired of the assumptions and expectations about our willingness to always go and do and provide. Because sometimes we just aren't that willing .... or more specifically.... I'm not. Am I allowed to think that? Am I allowed to be ..... done?
Would a Winnebago, a long road, and no forwarding address fix it? Probably not.
But sometimes I just need to dream of letting the baton drop, while in reality I grit my teeth and continue to run.
First some personal history ..... As a kid I loved camping. Who didn't, when someone else did all the work? Then as a parent of young kids I BECAME the one doing the work. We tried it a few times, and seldom with any cooperation from the weather. One time we even traveled to the eastern side of our state where the sun is supposed to actually shine, and after the first night, we woke up to sleet, which sent us hightailing for home. We didn't even take the canoe off the car, which we laboriously hauled along, (not my idea), until we got home again.
Fast forward to the summer of 2013 and the kids are grown. Husband and I attended a family reunion in Wyoming that required a tent. We packed along our little 4-man job, our air mattress, and bedding. The weather was perfect and I slept on one of the most comfortable beds known to man. Note: It may SAY the tent sleeps four.... but picture sardines in a can. It's best to cut the purported number in half, and you'll have a more accurate and reasonable fit.
Here's a tip: Forget sleeping in bags. Bring sheets and blankets like you use at home. Use an inflatable mattress, insert a THICK quilt or opened sleeping bag between it and your bottom fitted sheet, and if you are fortunate to have no air leaks, you are in for one comfy night.
Since we were already in Wyoming, we HAD to visit Yellowstone in which hotel rates require remortgaging the house. Therefore, back to camping. Our three days there were glorious with perfect weather ..... a good thing because our one night after the reunion and before Yellowstone (that we spent in Teton National Park) was not. That night it rained and hailed with the fury of a vengeful god. We woke up to a small river running under our sad little battered tent. Needless to say, I was ready to start the remortgaging process and get a room. But as I said, the remaining days were perfect, and I fell in love with camping. And as with any relationship, there would be changes.
First of all, we needed a bigger and more substantial tent....particularly one with a sturdy rain fly, and that we could stand up in. No more trying to change clothes on our knees. We wandered around the campground and critiqued the different tents, determining what we wanted. We spent quite a bit of time shopping after we came home and my first choice, since I was still haunted by the hail storm, was an indestructible Springbar canvas tent that they say you can pass down to your grandchildren. But the poles were too long for our car, and the thing weighs a ton. So we opted for a Big Agnes Big House 6.
(Last summer with our kids. A brief patch of rain sent us inside.)
Second, a bed off the ground, like a double cot on which to put our mattress. At my age, some things, like NOT sleeping on the ground, become priorities... plus the added storage under the bed is a nice perk.
(One of our camping neighbors. Some creatures are happy in the minimalist mode. Not me.)
Last winter, I happened upon Thousand Trail campgrounds online. These campgrounds, of which there are many throughout the country, are semi resorts, with beautifully kept grounds, clean bathrooms, swimming pools, spas, lodges, pickle ball courts, miniature golf, a store, etc., etc. Each one is different. And all are yours for unlimited use for $200/year. So I signed up for one year. Now, after staying at four, and a total of nine nights so far, I am sold and am anxious to visit more of their campgrounds. For TT members, they almost always have openings, even last minute and there are no cancellation penalties. Pretty cool. Last weekend horrifically high temps were forecasted so I jumped online, snagged a campsite at the beach and we escaped for a couple of days. Try doing THAT without a months-in-advance hotel reservation, in July.
So this summer, we have been packing in as much camping as the Husband can stand. He's about hit his limit but I may never hit mine. Why?
Because for one thing, it's cheap. I like cheap. It's a vacation that doesn't hemorrhage money, nor depend on someone's spare room. It's an escape and I need them regularly. It's time focused on the relationship, which I also need regularly. And it doesn't involve airports. I've got the packing process streamlined and the camp setup is routine and quick. We can bring our bikes .... or not. We can cook .... or not. We can hike .... or not. Time slows down and the rest of humanity, with which I must always share my spouse, fades a little .... never completely, but a little. And every little bit helps.
Yes, that's us glowing in the dark... yes, Husband is the photographer... and yes, those are actual stars.
I'm going to take you on a little travelogue into a world that defies all scenic imagination.
Utah's Canyonlands. Unbelievable even when you're standing there in the middle of it with your mouth gaping open. And included in our latest trip, were a few happy hours with the three most awesome siblings and siblings-in-law who conveniently live along the route as we travel to this favorite vacation land. Score, score, and score!
Moab, I am proud to say, lies deeply in my roots. My very own grandparents, Emerald and Geneva Stout, lived there in the 40s, 50s, and early 60s, before it was discovered by air conditioning and tourism. My vague, early memories recall an average small, sleepy town with one main street, complete with a corner drug store and probably a grocery store, gas station and a five-and-dime. They owned a small farm within a few blocks of the town on a dusty road near a creek. I remember very little, sad to say. But I do remember the giant black walnut tree that stood near the house and although the farm was replaced over half a century ago with a school, the remains of the tree still stand.
Today it sits in a dog park.
The dusty road is now paved, but the creek is there. What I wouldn't give to go back in time and revisit my grandpa's farm, confront his turkeys that terrorized me at age three, and eat the fresh peaches with the sticky juice dribbling down my neck.
Then
Now
Today Moab is a tourist's love affair. Outdoor sports like mountain biking, four-wheeling, rock climbing, etc. have awakened the town and it is decked out with all the cute shops, galleries, and restaurants that I, as a female, cannot help but adore. If only all towns could follow suit. And then, there is the scenery...... Oh.My.Gosh. Within a short drive in every direction we have the wonders of Canyonland, Arches National Park, Monument Valley, and incredible vistas as far as the eye can see. Picture in your mind the Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote chasing through those canyons, cliffs, and plateaus, and you kind of get a hint of it. To THIS Pacific Northwest native, southeast Utah might as well be on the moon. Talk about contrast from home. But enough talk ..... let's look at some pictures, thanks to my photographer husband.
Our wheels, whose purpose is road trips such as this, against a sampling of the famous red cliffs.
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Below is Corona Arch, gracing the end of a 1.5 mile hike (each way). Worth every step.
This arch has recently acquired a dubious history because of this now-gone-viral video:
Hence, there have been some horrible accidents there because of copycat foolishness. In fact one such accident happened on the day before our visit, requiring a team of rescuers and a life-flight helicopter. I will spare you the photo of the blood on the rock floor below the arch. As far as we've been able to find out online, at least initially, he survived. But the 22 year old who tried it last year, didn't.
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Into Arches National Park we go and our first stop is Balanced Rock. The picture does not do it justice. The thing is HUGE.
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Below is Double Arch, one of my favorites. The little green speck is me. What you don't see is the deep gulf behind me, between the two arches.
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Then there's Sandstone Arch, and the best part about it was the short hike to get to it through narrow slot-canyon-like rock walls.
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It's incredible that Landscape Arch is still with us. A large chunk fell from it in the early 90s. We did this hike later in the day and the wind was fierce. But we made the effort because it may not be there next time.
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Mesa Arch is about an hour out of Moab in Canyonlands National Park. We discovered this one-of-a-kind wonder a couple of years ago. It's a short quarter mile hike from the parking lot and as you begin to see the low arch, you think ..... cool, there it is. But as you get up to it, you realize in a chilling, jaw-dropping sort of way, that just below and behind it, the entire world disappears into a vast abyss. Previously unbeknown to us, this arch has a world-wide following. Photographers come to capture it at dawn because the rising sun lights up the underneath of the arch. So of course, Husband had to give it a go.
We got up at 4:15 a.m. and drove out there in the dark. On our previous trip, we were there late in the day when it was getting dark. It was then when I had my first and what I determined would be my ONLY encounter with a rattlesnake and so THIS time, as Husband trotted off on the short walk to the arch, I remained in the car waiting for daylight. As I waited, more and more cars pulled up and finally when a humongous tour bus full of camera-toting Asians arrived..... I figured all snakes must have fled the premises. So I walked out to join Husband at what had become Grand Central. People were everywhere with their cameras and tripods, all poised for the sun to creep over the horizon. It was tricky to get some shots with 60+ people crowding the scene. But in spite of the mob and the haziness, Husband managed some good ones. On the walk back to the car, another photographer told us it's like this every morning, spring to fall. Who knew?
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Lots of petroglyphs. They are supposed to tell stories of successful hunts, but I kind of wonder if ancient cave-kids simply got bored and found something to pass the time ...... probably earning a "time-out" for drawing on the walls.
In addition to a few motel/hotels en route and a homey church service on Sunday morning in Torrey, Utah, we camped four nights just outside of Moab at an immaculate although somewhat noisy campground. I highly recommend Moab Valley RV Resort (we were in a tent), just be prepared for the highway noise and fellow campers who don't realize how sound carries.
We forgot to take a picture so I stole this one off their website.
In May, the summer heat has not yet arrived, making camping a terrific option compared to the high-priced hotels in town. Each morning we'd head out to experience the sights with hikes, drives, and more gawking at the beauty, then return to our camp swimming pool and hot tub where we met and shared our day with people from various parts of the world. Then we'd hit the showers and a clean set of clothes and head into town for dinner. Life does not get better than that.
Icamping.
This will go down as one of the good ones, as far as vacations go. And we WILL return in a year or two, for our next Moab-fix.
If you've had the means, but haven't been there, please excuse me as I pause and stare at you for a moment. I would be feeling a mixture of dismay in that I CAN'T BELIEVE anyone would waste time in places like Hawaii and neglect THIS .....and envy that you have your initial never-to-forget, eye-popping introduction ahead of you. (Kind of like the envy I feel for anyone who has not yet seen either of the latest two movie versions of Pride and Prejudice. There's just nothing like the first time.) But in this case, the second, third, fourth, etc. etc. times are lacking for nothing because there's always something new and incredible to see in this land-like-no-other. And we haven't even talked about the BIG canyons (to which we didn't go this time).... like Bryce, Zion, and that little number called GRAND. Another trip, another blog post .......
