Archives for category: Oregon Trails

I got home from work yesterday, grateful to have survived humanity through one more commute. Fuck, there are a lot of stupid people “out there”… Each homecoming at the end of a work day in the office feels worth celebrating.

Carrots from the garden

I began the evening by picking some carrots from the garden to roast for dinner. They’ll make a nice side dish for the tarragon chicken I plan to make. I’ll use tarragon from the garden, too. This a real treat, because the tarragon is relatively young (planted this year, back in March I think) and still getting established.

The evening was lovely. We hung out awhile, listening to music, watching videos, and enjoying some “family time”. Pleasant. I ended the evening at more or less the usual time, in more or less the usual way. I had a plan to sleep in, have a walk, and go to a morning appointment, and do grocery shopping on the way home. (So far so good, I suppose. I didn’t sleep in at all. I woke without an alarm, at some ridiculous hour, for no obvious reason. Definitely no sleeping in, though I was groggy for the entire drive to the trailhead.)

The morning greeted me with a fat full moon hanging low in the predawn sky. I watched it set, and the sunrise begin, as I drove. Lovely.

A last glimpse of the full moon setting, from a favorite mid-point on my walk.

The summer air is fragrant with a spicy floral scent of something blooming. I can’t describe it, and don’t know for sure what the fragrance is. I breathe deeply. I walk the trail marveling at the dense mist clinging to the ground. The sunrise is hues of peach and pink, edged in delicate gold. I feel fortunate to see such splendor with my own eyes.

Here’s the thing… I’m not in a great mood. I’m cross and fatigued and in pain. Yesterday evening, my shitty mood from sleeping poorly the night before continued to linger. Shitty moods and difficult moments are part of the human experience, but they are not all of it, even in those difficult moments. What I remember most about yesterday are those beautiful carrots from the garden and how delicious they were. What I will remember about this morning will more likely be the scents of summer and the beautiful sunrise, not my headache or my crappy mood. Learning to savor (and be present for) the small joys in life has tended to make life more pleasant, generally.

I sit, smiling, in this favorite spot, watching little birds and chipmunks and squirrels enjoying the morning. I watch the sun rise. I watch the shifting mist flow over the ground, moving with the air, almost as if it were liquid. I watch the moon set, disappearing below the edge of the western horizon. I’m not in any rush. Lingering over this pleasant moment is more than enjoyable; it is restoring my joy and merriment. Each pleasant moment, and each breath of fragrant summer air brings a sense of joy, and my mood slowly improves. My irritation diminishes. I’m still tired and in pain, but it matters a little less with each passing moment of enjoyment in this place. We become what we practice. 😁

I reach a point of quiet contentment and general satisfaction with the moment, and with life. Nice place to find myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sunlight fills the meadow and lights the tree tops. I sigh as I get to my feet. It’ll be time to begin again by the time I get back to the car.

My last day out here in the trees. The night was chilly, and my sleep was restless. Noisy families. Noisy late arrivals. Distant sirens. Humanity is noisy. We’re not very good at quiet.

The nearby hydroelectric dam that creates Estacada Lake is one more source of noise, in the background.

We’re also not good at “leaving no trace”. Yesterday, I spotted pop cans, coffee cups, and bits of assorted trash in the brush along the edges of every trail I walked. Not a lot, but that isn’t the point – any is too much. Disappointing. This morning I took a trash bag with me on my mid-morning (after breakfast) (and second coffee) hike. (Might have been easier to say “my second hike” this morning.) I returned to camp with the bag half full, and feeling I’d done at least a little something to make the world just a little bit better in some small way. I’m not feeling smug about it, more that I’m grateful to have had it in me to lug that bag along the whole distance. Some days I just don’t.

Where does this path lead?

… G’damn my feet ache. 😆 I’m not bitching, just noticing…

I’ve put a few miles on my boots and seen a few things.

I settle into my camp chair and put my feet up on the seat of the picnic table. I drink water. I sit with my thoughts, a little bit distracted by adjacent campers breaking down their camps for departure. I’m thinking about it, myself; there’s a strong forecast of rain beginning in the wee hours and not expected to end until quite late in the day, tomorrow. I dislike tearing down camp in the rain. Wet gear doesn’t pack easily, and reliably needs to be unpacked to dry out and repacked all over again before going back into storage until next time. I don’t like the extra work involved. I don’t like getting wet while I’m breaking down my camp.

…If you don’t like the circumstances, choose differently…

I know my Traveling Partner misses me, and that I’ll be welcomed home. I still reach out and check that I won’t be inconveniencing him with a change of plans – that’s basic courtesy. I respect his time and plans the way he respects mine. So… Stay? Go? I’m leaning towards heading home this afternoon, late enough to enjoy this beautiful sunny day, early enough to be home for dinner. I do a mental walk through of the repacking. I consider small changes to what I’ve got packed where, with my next trip in mind.

Sooo many chipmunks!

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let all that go in favor of “now”. Begin again? It can wait for some later moment. I sit watching the chipmunks playing in the sunshine (so many chipmunks!). Maybe another coffee…?

Not “brand placement”, not “sponsored content”, just a woman thinking about another cup of coffee. 😂

And bunnies…

… one of many.

So… I’m sitting here enjoying the breeze and the sounds of the birds and squirrels and chipmunks, and letting the idea of it being my last day become more real and settled. I’ll have another coffee, maybe another short hike and a bite of lunch… Then I’ll pack up the gear and begin again. This trip into the trees has served its purpose, and that’s enough (it was never about the plan).

I am relaxing at camp, drinking coffee, and listening to the sound of little girls playing. It’s hard to be annoyed by their obvious joy and merriment as they play some version of make-believe.

My night passed in relative comfort, for some values of comfort, I suppose. It could have been worse, and I’m not ill, so there’s that. My guts were a mess and I definitely would have liked a camp site closer to the restrooms, but I got by without too much bother (trust me, you don’t want the details 😂) and eventually slept soundly and restfully.

One of my “neighbors”.

I sit with my coffee and my thoughts, watching the wildlife carefully exploring the edges of my camp. Birds. Bunnies. Squirrels. Chipmunks. Sooo many chipmunks! I got the solitude and quiet that I was looking for out on the trail. Camp is calm and relaxed but, at least for now, not especially quiet – but as I said, it’s hard to be annoyed by “a joyful noise”.

Another friendly visitor to my camp.

I hiked on aching legs, at a gentle pace, and got a couple miles in, early. I strolled down to the lake after my first coffee, and sat for a little while watching the reflections on the water. No drama. No fuss over this or that. No errands to run. No chores to do. Just me watching the minutes slip by like ripples, feeling the breeze and listening to the sounds of birdsong. Quite a lovely morning.

Reflections on the lake, a calm cloudy summer morning.

Now back at camp, I’m doing more or less the same thing; sitting quietly, listening to the sound of the forest around me, and sipping a cup of coffee that is much better than the first. 😆 While I am grateful for this good cup of coffee, I have no explanation for the variance in quality – and I don’t bother looking for it. There’s no need. It’s enough to enjoy the moment and to appreciate the good cup of coffee. This is often true of circumstances. It may be enough to be present, to be grateful, to enjoy the moment, without seeking to explain it, define it, or troubleshoot some detail. So… I just go with it. It’s enough as it is.

There are so many paths to choose from…

I watch the chipmunks creeping closer. There’s a particularly bold one who definitely wants to check out the top of the picnic table, but hasn’t decided whether I’m a threat. I sit quietly, waiting, watching. Camp is getting noisier; campers are preparing to leave. I look over my trail map, and consider which trail to attempt next. The choice is mine – and eventually it’ll be time to begin again. For now there’s no hurry, just chipmunks, and this moment. 😁

The days are definitely getting shorter. I see it in the mornings when I arrive at the trailhead. I’m no longer missing the sunrise. This morning’s sky is a pale pastel blue hue, streaked with a delicate pink. Lovely.

I walk down the trail, listening to the sound of my footsteps crunching along the gravel trail. It is a useful distraction from my tinnitus, which is quite loud, a piercing shrill whine in the background of, well, of everything, every moment.

Voices at a favorite stopping point; I walk on.

I’ve got a bit of shopping this morning, and it’s time to stop by the storage unit to grab my camping gear and load it in the car, for tomorrow’s departure. Doesn’t really feel like work at all, though there is effort involved. The camp fridge is already plugged in at the house, getting cold. I’m looking forward to this camping trip. The shorter days are not discouraging me, and the cot I picked up on sale before the last trip proved its worth. I expect to sleep pretty comfortably.

I finally get to a pleasant spot to stop that feels solitary, though I suspect it is an illusion to do with timing, more than anything else. There were quite a few cars parked at the trailhead this morning.

…We are rarely ever truly alone, and “privacy” is a concept quickly being lost in our “always on” digital age. I find this vexing; I enjoy solitude…

I sigh quietly to myself and let all that go. I sit with my thoughts awhile, enjoying the sunrise, though it’s nothing fancy or super colorful this morning, I’m simply grateful to see another one. Definitely something I find worthy of appreciation, life itself. It hasn’t been reliably kind to me over the course of this one mortal lifetime, and I sometimes think I’m very lucky indeed to have made it this far, at all. I’m glad I stuck it out and worked through a lot of my bullshit and baggage, instead of checking out in some moment of despair. It’s been a worthwhile journey, and I’ve got much to be grateful for.

I sit listening to the faint sound of traffic on the highway adjacent to the meadow on the other side of the trees that surround me. I watch a curious chipmunk creeping closer to me, one little darting step at a time. I’m disappointed that I have no seeds or nuts with me, though I know it’s a bad practice to feed wild creatures, I am always tempted. The chipmunk comes all the way to the edge of my boot. We make eye contact, and she darts away quickly in a single jump followed by scurrying steps, and disappears into the weeds.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve got a list of chores to get done before I leave for a few days of luxurious solitude in the trees. Mostly routine stuff I’d be doing on any weekend, just compressed into one day, with some add-ons intended to provide for my Traveling Partner’s comfort while I am away. I smile, taking note of how much less work that is; he’s come a long way since his surgery.

Well hell, this walk isn’t going to finish itself, and I’ve got this list. The clock is ticking onward (always). I guess it’s time to begin again.

Pretty morning. Mild. Quiet. I got to the trailhead ahead of the sunrise.

Perspective on a new day

I walked the trail in solitude, enjoying it greatly. Nice morning for it. Seems like I’ve got it all to myself today. I get to a convenient stopping point, about halfway, more or less. An imprecise measure, but in this case accuracy isn’t a requirement. I sit watching the sky change colors as the sun rises. I see headlights sweep across the vineyard that covers the distance between this part of the trail and the oaks and the parking lot beyond. Farm workers arriving for the work day. This is no wilderness trail. It’s well-maintained and reliably walkable in almost any weather, and conveniently located when I work from home. Nothing fancy, but it is safe and familiar, and I enjoy the walk. It’s enough.

In just two days my feet will walk other trails, new to me. I’m excited about it. My thoughts are filled with camping gear and trail maps, and fresh coffee at sunrise. I’ve got my site reserved, and all that’s left is to pack my gear and go. Well, that and the final details about glamping or camping… Carry more gear? Pack fewer options? Take this? Take that? The most difficult bit of planning is keeping my enthusiasm in check and planning based on my capabilities and limitations, not just my daydreams and wishful thinking!

I think about the drive out… I’ve deliberately planned a slower far more scenic route (no freeways, no major highways) through farm country. The journey is the destination and the entire point is the time spent with my thoughts seeing things from a new perspective. I definitely don’t want stress related to the drive itself to be any notable part of the experience. 😂

… Looking forward to this break from the routine…

I sigh to myself. The sun is up. I shield my eyes and look to the east, back the way I came. Lovely morning. Already time to begin again.