Reconnecting Camping

September 09. 2004

Over the Labor Day weekend myself and 2 friends went camping in a beautiful remote spot in southern Colorado.

We arrived around noon in a broken sky of blue/gray cloudy with rain threatening.

We sat in the middle of a meadow surrounded by Aspens, mountains, and clouds and green just taking in the delicately touched surroundings.

Everywhere your eyes went there was so much green dotted with yellow and little sprinklings of purple. Some of the Aspens were made bare by the constant wind and their shapes had taken on shadows and whisperings of old imaginings.

The clouds reached down and gently breathed on top of the mountains.

It started raining and we squatted under an Aspen copse, drinking beer and talking and watching the raindrops fall as we huddled amongst the Aspens thinking about good uses of the land.

[There are 35 acres sitting on a mountain slope that could be turned into a demonstration project for sustainable energy and earth friendly housing. An educational project so school children could be a part of it also.]

We had gathered a large pile of wood for a fire later hoping it would stay dry under the trees.

Dinner was a wet feast of great flavored beans, chorizo, corn tortillas onions, and corn chips eaten with lots of rain.

The rain stopped just as the sun went down.

The rays shot up over the mountain illuminating the clouds into golden yellows and ambers.

The wind twirled the clouds so swiftly that they did a dance for us until the lights went down.

We had built a large fire from the scattered wood around the land and it sizzled and spat with the wind..

Poking the logs sent sparks like fireworks scattering throughout the night sky, sending heart lights to the stars.

When the wind blew through the fire, the logs would light up with little LEDs rapidly emitting an elemental code.

The night was dark. Sleep came in fits and spurts. Peace, then an elemental interjection waking you. First sleep then wind. Then sleep then rain would flow, then sleep the wind again until finally it blew so hard and furious it pounded the tent side with a loud smack!

The tent collapsed finally, the poles bent into twisted lines thrusting the tent fabric into my face. I flew to consciousness, sitting up abruptly, startled, definitely awake!

We sat for some time holding the tent up, then confusedly gathering our belongings and heading out the door. We got up!

The morning was incredibly clear. Red streaks split the sky at the mountain range.

The wind was howling and bending the mullein into kissing the ground.

The sun just rising, casting dramatic clarity across the land.

The sky was perfect, holding the moon, the stars and the rising sun.

The wind still beating and racing down the mountain at about 45 mph gusts. I headed to the trees staggering under the wind looking for a place to pee. Huddled in a spiral of thorny branches, squatting in an unknown and vague area, it was a wild and vulnerable moment. Exposed but accepting the elements in all their glory in a completely natural manner.

By this time both tents had collapsed so we poked the battered and bruised tents into the truck. We stacked all the equipment either in the truck or under rocks. We retrieved the table that had blown into the trees and I headed out to find enough shelter to fire the stove to make some coffee. I found a small place at the top of the small meadow snuggled into an alcove of thick pinions.I got the stove started and we boiled some water. The coffee was good and welcome.

We sat for a while contemplating and meditating until finding acceptance.

Peace came.

We decided to go for a walk. As soon as we left the alcove the wind tore at us once again. But we persevered! Trekking up the mountains the wind plowing into our faces and lungs. We became one with the wind. We were the only things moving except for the wind. No birds ventured out.We three became like the trees and shrubs. Watching the mullein sway and bend led us to find our way to being elemental.

We made it up the slope of the mountain where the edge of the land was, walking around the perimeter, often diverging into clusters of thorny oak. Leafless with thorny crusty branches standing in line, they reminded me of druid forests where one could become entangled easily unless you were flexible in mind, body and spirit. Sometimes in the middle of the cluster of trees there would be a circle surrounding a small pine tree and the wind would have stopped. The thickness of the trees, were such that the wind could not find its way in.When we emerged the wind was waiting for us like a stern reminder that you were still on the path to something.

We came back and decided to eat - beans, bacon, tortillas, olive, carrots, beer. We gobbled and sat in our small safe place.

By around noon the wind left. We repacked the truck, cleaned all the cookware, decided to spend the day then return to town.

Some people showed up looking for fallen Aspen logs to make furniture with. One of the men lived there permanently. He told us about the area and the animals that visited the land, elk, bear, mountain lions, and the hunters that came, the ranchers that worked the land.

After they left we sat in the sun, talking gently and nicely.

We decided to go for one last walk.

The sky was blue as cobalt. The sun was bright as day. The mountains cast black, gray and green against the brightness, creating a backdrop of tremendous strength and beauty.The ground was a veritable tablecloth of diversity. Cacti ruled with moss green hues then Indian paintbrush would suddenly appear in bright red against the muted ground, next came little purple clusters of daises spreading out close to the ground. Small clusters of voluptuous yellow bushes scattered here and there catching your eye. Soft waves of sage sent glorious smells into the air when you walked by. Yucca, mullein, soft fuzzy furry barrel cactus were evenly dispersed amongst the pinion, pine and scrub oak. Blue jays and small black and white hawk like birds lead us through the land.

Walking, we discovered more and more and more beauty.

Breathing deeply the good mountain air we returned to our safe little nook for one last glass of wine, whistling in the sunset we watched a little ground hog build his dirt home.

Finally letting the warmth of the day clothe us in peace, tranquility, joy and friendship we packed up the cooler and headed back home.