2017: Following Up
2017: The year that saw a new pup, a hundred road trips, a thousand trails—long, winding and otherwise. It was the year Mark gave me sparkly ring, and took all these lovely pictures of me wandering around. Proof! I embrace the wisdom of walking. It was the year I got a new job at Nemo. Procured a parcel of land in the woods near Bend. Built a fence. Cried over my old dog Lefty. Spent the night on a mountain in a blizzard and didn't die.
Photographs aren't real life, but they're a slice of it. I'm glad my better half is always snapping away pics when I'm not looking, because then on dreary January 2nds, I can look back and know that I really did it. I went outside and followed the path, contemplating all the craggy views and forest sprites. I left behind the computer and the television in favor of simple happinesses with man and dog, blank-brained meditations on the trail and other moonshine of the mind.
If my year were only these images, I would be happy. Luckily, it was even more.
Desertification
This isn't a curated reporting from the impossibly perfect vacation. It's just pictures from a road trip to the desert last week. It was fun. It was raw. We hung with family and talked politics. We bopped around gathering sagebrush bows and piled them on the dashboard, so when the sun beat down on the car, it bloomed with the scent of desert wind.
Speaking of, is there anything more relaxing than the desert landscape? Placing yourself under the influence of the open sky and red-rock cliffs, you're immediately at ease. You fall in line with the natural world and its beauties. You wander past sandstone monoliths thinking about the long history of the earth and how life came to be. Or maybe that's just me.
Anyway, yeah—Portland, Oregon to Moab, Utah, via a maze of roads riddled with wildfires and repaving projects. Every time I venture there, I leave wanting to plan my next visit. Next time we'll bring bikes and ride out to Klondike Bluff. Next time we'll winter camp. Next time we'll drive backroads through Capitol Reef ... Then, 15-17 hrs later I get home so burnt from driving I vow never to go back.
But, you know, it's hard to stay away.
Mark and his dad. Multiple generations of awesome dudes.
On Saturday, we meandered red-rock labyrinths with my mom and sis.
The Colorado River ran through all of it.
I really wanted to swim in this dreamy desert locale, however I was warm but not hot and the water was very cold. But I waded!
In the canyon with the cottonwoods and cool waterfalls.
Let the world make you feel small as often as possible.
A very cute coffee situation in Moab. Piney and Rocket.
Deep thoughts at sunrise.
The road home. Sagebrush on the wind.
Happy Anniversary
Happy anniversary Lefty—it's been one year since you died. It's been a year since we buried you under the new maple tree, and then the winter came and buried you again in all that snow. Dang, though, how the flowers bloomed there in the spring. This summer was hot—you would've hated it. I would've had to finally get you that haircut everyone was always asking about. I never did touch your hair, though. It was too perfect the way it was. Au naturale was how you rolled.
Your brother Duke moved in 4 blocks away. You could've partied together daily! But your buddy Riley, he died in the spring. Both of you gone too soon.
I miss going skating with you. I miss using you as a footrest. I miss catching all the love beams you were always sending my way—always watching me, constantly keeping your eye on things, forever making sure I was safe and more importantly that I wasn't gonna leave you behind. I'm not going anywhere, boy, I'm right here.
Lefty at the river.
Lefty at the fire lookout.
Lefty at the skatepark.
Lefty at the desert lake.
Lefty and me forever.
Canada Mega Post
I'm a healthier, happier person after spending 5 days in interior B.C.—everyday another exploration in the forest, and everyday another constitutional swim in cold, clear water. Those lakes were so clear that my shadow spooked me more than once, way down where it was on the bottom of the lake. Overhead, the sky was very blue, except where it wasn't because of billowing plumes of smoke. Wildfires are real, and they're a way of life in Canada.
Up in Canada, where we basked and wandered, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at will. The only hurry was which recreational activity to do next. I'd pester Mark to rush so we could go outside. Because that's just what you do up there.
Piney did dog things like play with the Canadian dogs and splash-and-bite the Canadian lakes. In Nelson, he met Pillow, Bree and Kale—a husky, Great Pyrenees and Australian shepherd respectively. In Trout Lake, he ran off into town with Al's Siberian Husky, Rider, and got a taste of that wild freedom afforded to the country pup. He liked what he tasted ... too much. In Revelstoke, he ripped around a beatific farm with Qimmiq, a low-riding Aussie with a whistle-pig squeal. Although Piney will have many more adventures and live happily every after, he still just wishes we left him in Canada.
Meanwhile, at Kootaney Lake.
All the hips in Nelson, B.C.
Had lovely hangs with my ol friend Mark Fawcett and his new pup Kale Chip on their private beach. Life is good in Nelson.
My pal Al Clarke built this baby cabin with his 2 hands. I know him from 20 years ago, back when we were both traveling the world as itinerant snowboarders. He's a legend and quintessential mountain man. How lucky that we get to hang together again all these years later!
Typical Trout Lake views.
Backyard secrets of the North country.
Stu's fabulous farm, where I foraged a handful of black raspberries and plucked 3 delicious pea pods off their vine.
Revelstoke National Park was stupid beautiful. There was a grizz wandering the area, but we didn't see him. Only us up there with the wind and wildflowers.
Summer Assessment
Hi from the dog days of summer, which spin around with "drought, sudden thunderstorms, lethargy, fever, mad dogs, and bad luck." According to ancient tomes, they do anyway.
Sure, the Dog Star has risen and the solar eclipse approaches, but this was a regular old weekend, cosmically speaking. I didn't do anything special, and that was special. Because you should be allowed to relax in the summer.
Garden wise, the very first tomatoes are ripe on the vine, but I had to throw out the brussel sprouts. They were full of aphids—I've been warring with bugs for weeks now. They are very small, but they won.
Puppy, wise, Piney swam for the first time. A momentous milestone in the development of a tiny canine brain. Importantly, he did not swim to fetch a ball or stick or save a drowning human. There was no goal to the wild paddling—just fun. He splashed around in circles and bit the water and I laughed with delight because ... because what's better than fun?
