Southward Ho!

It suddenly got chilly up in them thar hills. Cold wuss that I am...

This is the Malad River just below Bliss, Idaho. You can still see into the gorge when you drive over the bridge so I took the first right. It led to a rafting and kayak take-out/put in place with some nice scrub oaks for shade.

I'd just completed assembling my sandwich when the first boatload landed. It was a happy scene and I got to participate...marginally, not that I wanted more, but I was awake and right next to the ramp so it was fun.

But they kept coming....OVERLAND! A trailer with a large raft pulled up with about a dozen youngsters all primed for water activity. I can only take so much.

Up on top the road looked to continue on the other side of the highway. That's where I took the above video...at what appeared to be a power station. This time of year there should've been salmon leaping and cavorting in the rapids with BEARS prowling the shores and arguing over the best spots. Alaska maybe?

Still, it's pretty water. And Miracle Hot Springs is just down the road in Hagerman. 

But the friggin' pie store had just closed. And to add insult, the old guy, he could've been a year or two younger than me, said their strawberry-rhubarb was really good.

Ah, well. It's not like I *need* another  pie on my waist. But it's a tragedy; nothing, of course, compared to Greg's leg, but still. 

Technical Issue: The Tarpaulin

Perhaps it's having, yet again, survived. Ignoring, for the moment, the ambivalence, the residual affect from the LSD -- which, I have to add, is in evidence for several days, maybe weeks --  there's a willingness, to digress from The Path of Navel Gazing.

Years ago Art, I settled on the silver-coated tarp. I'd like to blame my mom, an inVETERATE looker-for-silver-linings woman. But, the fact is, they last longer than the blue ones.

I keep one, protected, underneath the ensolite. It's the one for Three Days of Rain or, may the godz preserve me, SNOW!

It's seen some work and been folded long enough, several times in different ways, it probably leaks and is time for it to be rotated to the front.

Up front is the shade cloth...yea olde tarp. It's rigged with carabiners (in the grommets), to clip onto the roof rack. When not shading it does duty as a cushion-silencer under the propane tank; half is under the tank and the rest is pulled under one of the crossbars of the roof rack. So far it hasn't managed to get blown away.

Seems like there aughta be at least a Master's thesis in comparing the incidence of silver vs blue in birds' nests.

The Pianist

We were perusing the bread. As she leaned slightly in front of me to retrieve her selection, she apologized. After reassuring her, I asked about her pick; it was sourdough. And then, without further ado, we commenced.

She'd moved down from Halfway onto 30 acres and was "spraying weeds." Her eyes lit up when I mentioned the accordion, adding that she'd put in a request (somewhere) to be alerted if "one came in."

She'd started playing the piano at age three but it wasn't until 7 they got her a teacher. She went at it all day, motivating the brothers to cover their ears and plead, "Make her stooooop!"

When I asked how she'd come to Baker she said it was a long story; I suggested we find somewhere to sit, but she had animals waiting to be fed. She suggested lunch in a couple of days. Whupping out my "card," I enthusiastically agreed.

I found a spot a few miles south of Baker with good cell and spent the first day recovering from doing laundry and shopping.

The weather shifted and by the end of the third day it was getting pretty chilly. Time to head south.

But there were twenty minutes or so there where I, once again, experienced the magic of "connection."

In Search of Sasquatch

My left eye has had me bedridden for three days. Today the weather is just too nice. I HAD to get up and go see.

The hills are so steep I'm confined to the road, but I think I've made my peace with trees.

Doug, a bow hunter, told of spur up the hill. It took me an hour and 15 minutes to go about 1,000 ft uphill. The spur is BEAUTIFUL! An old road they blocked off that's slloooowly being overgrown. I didn't have the strength to go far, but there was a lovely little meadow...as if ambling through a huge estate. Three wonderful hours total!

I REFUSE to view the distances I cover as less than magnificent. I stop every few hundred feet to shed a few tears at the beauty.

Conversation

I am in several relationships. Each is its own exploration of intimacy. Herewith is an example of an exchange.

Dream - 9/2

While reading Stealing Fire, by Kotler and Wheal, about altered states, and feeling envious of stories within:

I’m with a group of maybe six women in their 30’s-40’s.  Nice looking, slender.  We’re meeting for an appointment where they are to attend to me sexually (I’d felt envious about being ‘left out’ of all the cool experiences discussed in the book, including sexual).  We have gathered but are floundering without direction — no one was taking the lead and I wasn’t saying what I wanted because I hadn’t articulated it to myself.  Finally I said, “You’re getting bored,’ because I could see it in some faces of the more sophisticated women, and because I was.  They began to find out I wasn’t a repressed ingenue…I wanted more than a safe intro to sexuality.  One said “I have an idea,” and things started moving.  

They pulled out a red dress for me, and another dressed in red.  I said rather coyly, “I never wear red” meaning I’m too conservative, though I added I sometimes wear touches of red.  (Red signals intensity, desire and passion…assertiveness, strength, power…all the things Serena stands for). She was very pretty and so was I.  The woman who’d spoken said they would array all their toys…that peaked me interest…that was what I’d wanted all along, to be given new, intense experience by this experienced group of pretties.

(Regarding the shift that followed, the book describes the authors’ experience being invited to a stage presentation by OneTaste, a sexual freedom/altered states event.  A woman laid down, presenting her pussy to the audience while another stroked her clitoris a certain way for 15 minutes, no more, no less.  No orgasm, just mind shifting.  My feeling as I read this was how mechanical and unappealing…nothing to do with connection between people.  I think this was reflected in my leaving the sexual event scheduled above and being attracted to a different story about intensity, power, and mind shifting.)

But I noticed at one end of the room a former coach training an athlete with a name like Eric Heiden.  Eric was on a slide board that also seemed like ice/skates.  The dream focus went close-up to the back of his skates…he was making quick skating motions side to side, with the coach leaning in, giving him pointers intensely.  I moved in behind and began mimicking his movements (as I had when learning from Bobby.)

In the next scene, I’m imploring the coach to share this high level technical info with me.  He looks doubtful, has no idea who I am or that I might understand.  Why should he impart knowledge to me.  So I demonstrate I know what he was talking about by saying:  You were talking about weight transfer and timing.  So he saw I understood and was willing to proceed.  (This movement is about power shifting, using one’s weight in very specific ways as you move from one leg to the other.)

Associations to seeing Serena, after watching for decades.  I once wrote an essay about her and Venus and their differing attitudes on court, etc.  Sport…love…flow. I had potential for more than I did but, as in so many pursuits, I was mostly self taught and enjoyed the internal process of discovery along the way…all those 50 years of skating.

And just today, after the dream, I found in Stealing Fire descriptions of embodied cognition in chapter on neurobiology.  Shifting the center of gravity, playing with g-forces…”boosting/expanding range of normal bodily input, ie amplifying physical sensations of gravity to shift mental state into flow”…carving turns skating and skiing (snow and ice).

Jimmy Choo, who makes mountain climbing documentaries, said, “weightlessness, weightedness, rotation are the nectar of the gravity games” !!! “They provide easy access to flow and bring us coming back for more.”  (Positive addictions, positive psychology of Martin Seligman)

This is language I know, in words and body.

They continue re: cognitive inputs to self perception from posture, breathing facial expressions, flexibility, and balance. So much to think about here.

They also write about how often creative people come up with novel ideas and solutions while walking…the body movement loosening things and also shifting neurochemistry.   Case in point:  One time I needed to comprehend some theoretical material for a presentation for the teacher I wanted to impress (I was in love with).  After reading awhile, I smoked a little and went hiking in Griffith Park with my dog.  I’m strolling along a bridle trail when suddenly my body stops with a small gasp because the understanding simply arrived.  It came not from thinking it through logically or linearly, rather the information was swimming around my mind and picked up deep resonances from my own actual experience.  These came together in a very pronounced “aha!” moment.  As I walked on, the paper wrote itself.

When It Rains

Gratitude is, for me, an ever-increasing dimension of this phase -- aging.

Despite my ambivalence around the flubbing of my latest attempt to throw in the towel, the eye pain has receeded enough for me to batten the hatches.

This is the first cloudy day in weeks. And I have, in the past, when bad (BAD! BAD! BAD!) weather threatened, usually brought the luggage inside. But with my box of fresh fruit & vegetables from Baker Co-op, I had to come up with another plan. Fortunately -- and this is where the gratitude part comes in -- the eye has settled some and I still, despite the fat, am able to clamber upon the yardarms and various sheets to rig a rain cover.

But, I admit, I'm forced, FORCED I tell you, to rest afterward. (some say afterwardS)

Baker City - LSD

Yesterday's eye pain resulted in a hyper-state that I've read about in BDSM articles wherein the induced pain results in a whole-body experience some find pleasurable. I did not.

But it felt interesting enough to prompt me to augment it with a microdose of LSD. And contrary to my usual inclination to "do it in the woods," I went into Baker City.  Motto of the day: Keep it simple.

There're (supposedly) a lot of bears in the area and though I've not seen a one, I've seen their "calling cards." 

Small bears

It seemed cruel to leave sardine and smoked oyster cans lying about. But I was running out of inside storage.

In addition, the "wonderful" Grayl 24 ounce geopress water purifier so highly recommended by a woman who'd traveled with one in Africa for two years, became inoperable. There's a beautiful stream about ten minutes away, but one bout of Giardia cured me of succumbing to a pretty face. I now filter all "wild" water.

With the breakdown of the Grayl, thirst became an issue. And so, into town I went. It was an amazing journey...highlighted by extraordinary kindness from all the people I encountered.

Unwashed and with several days of beard, my foremost interest was Boric Acid Solution, a liquid with mild anti-bacterial and anti-fungal with time-honored use as an opthalmic. I wandered from Safeway to Rite-Aide (a REAL pharmacy) where I, with all the drama and indignity of a Shakespearian play said, "Surely you Jive?!?!" when the pharmacist said they had none, adding that "I should check up front." 

At the register, whilst inquiring of the cashier, a pharmacist appeared and said she had checked and indeed, as the original minion had stated, there was none to be had.

At Albertson's the pharmacy was closed for lunch. Unable to see well enough to read the labels, I found myself picking up a bottle of castor oil in the enema section. It prompted me to realize things could be worse. Enlisting the aide of a customer, she assured me there was none. ONWARD! 

In the parking lot I called two pharmacies in La Grande. No luck. And with that, I gave up.

After googling Sporting Goods I ended up at ACE Hardware where I was getting new "feet" for the porta-toilet. 

Trapped in a line bounded by shelves of gummie bears, candy bars and other assorteds, I shouted to a fellow standing nearby if they had any water purifiers. He waved his hand at a wall display that looked beyond my current mental capacity. I paid for the "feets" and left. 

Wanting to enjoy the trip, I pulled into the library parking just as someone was leaving a shady spot. I spent a sort-of pleasant hour being reminded of how noisy cities are. Geiser Park has a pretty stream running through, lovely trees and grass, happy children and lovers cavorting and is adjacent highway 30, which was, on this day, funneling the freeway traffic around a slowdown on interstate 84. The semi trucks, vacationers, local hot-rodders all made an impression. I left.

Looking for good food, I decided to stop at the Co-op. Here I found a cornucopia of local blackberries, blueberries, tomatoes, huge, firm peaches from Fair Haven Orchard; raw cheeses, including a delicious smoked gouda. And to top it off, they had a homeopathic treatment for dry eye, a remedy I'd had luck with in the past, albeit the prev was allopathic. With a box-load of wholesomeness, I set sail.

Water and garbage had been expeditiously dispatched at the City Offices in Haines. 

Fortunately, I'd marked the way in my GPS. It's pretty far out there and at one point, only once though, did I need to check coordinates; in other words, I was lost. But eventually...all was well. 

Tonight I'll have beef tartare with Fields grassfed. Keep it simple...no open flames or dishes to wash.

A wonderful drug!