Showing posts from 2011

disaronno, blue cover, eton, notebook, a fisherman,
sandbags, and chicken little

December’s here and that means my annual bottle of Disaronno and Grand Marnier. With the winter solstice approaching, I’m searching for a bottle of bordeaux (fat chance). I should have planned ahead and picked up a bottle while up in Moab at the state liquor store. Next year. Maybe I’ll luck out and at least find a bottle of Pink. When I was at Siscily’s place in Chama, I noticed she had painted her propane tank covers on her casita. It looked good so I asked if I could copy her idea. She will no doubt be painting polka dots on her cover but I’ll be leaving mine like this. My solar powered eton radio died so I ordered this new model. I don’t use the radio all that much but the weather band comes in handy from time to time and I definitely use the LED flashlight. The last couple of weeks I’ve been reading my road notebook. It’s just about full and I will be starting a new one in January. Back in my February 2008 entry ‘the lifestyle—what it’s like to live like this,’ I recommended that

small world, coyotes, running of the bulls, IZ,
salmon run, an empty park, fresh cup,
and George Washington and the axe

Sometimes when I’m camped in a nice secluded spot miles back in from the asphalt, the world seems to grow smaller. At such times ‘the world’ is easily defined and it’s boundaries clear. I can feel this when Nature is coming on strong. Maybe I’m running down a trail trying to get back to camp as the clouds are darkening and there’s the sound of thunder off in the distance. Or I’m in my camper as the wind is screaming like a banshee or it’s pouring buckets. The same feeling exists at more gentle times. I might be sitting around a small fire, taking a mug-walk, a bowl-walk, out walking with M&M, sitting under the awning during a warm summer drizzle, or sitting inside watching the snow. Sometimes it’s more sensory. It could be the fragrance of the sage I threw on the fire or the feel of an early morning fog lifting off a glass-smooth pond, the call of an owl or coyote. I can open up to the rhythms and tempo of the natural world—sunrises and sunsets, moonrise, the sound of the wind in

art deco, on the rim, flaming cow sh*t,
check the water, nasty body fluids, it’s a hard life,
extended time off the grid, and
games for when you are older

Ah, simple pleasures—a cold glass of water, a book, and a lowrider in the shade of a juniper. OR a glass of wine, a book, a feline, and a lowrider with a view OR a mug of yerba mate, a book, and a lowrider with a view This lifestyle has WAY too many choices. This can lead to stress. I’ll endure it somehow. Speaking of stress, I bet you are sitting there stressing over where the term ‘Art Deco’ originated. The name was coined at the 1925 Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels in Paris. It was the predominant decorative art style of the 1920s and 1930s, characterized by precise and boldly delineated geometric shapes and strong colors, and used most notably in household objects and in architecture. Now you’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep. If not, try an offering to Morpheus. I finally found a quiet, secluded spot to camp that felt good (how many months did that take?!). It was at the end of a spur road off FR 211 in the Ashley National Forest Uintah Mountains

more moose, might as well be dead, a dead sony,
mesa’s bear, another challenge, and
children’s books

We all know people who might as well be dead (sounds like an opening line in a thriller). These people have so contracted into their limited viewpoints that it is as painful to be around them as it must be for themselves. The flexibility and joy and flow of life are gone. Most anyone can be faced with this grim possibility unless we realize that we need to work with our life. We need to have some form of practice in our day to day existence. We have to be willing to spend time doing something that is not easy. The problem in life is not outside ourselves. Food for thought. Okay, okay, moving right along… I spent a month disperse camping in Teton Canyon, just east of Alta, WY. Some great trails for running in the mountains. Just down the road a bit was the Mill Creek trail and up at the end of the road were a number of trails. Not bad. Can’t think when I’ve had such a choice of trails, at elevation since getting into this lifestyle. Sure wish I had more opportunities to run in the mount

moose in the window, doa, carefree children,
turkeys in the night, not my realm, and
dear cats and dogs

There’s frequently a hummingbird feeder hanging from the plant hanger so M&M are used to looking out at the little birds. But sometimes it’s not a bird. I hate this lifestlye—it’s SO unpredictable. (^_^) The state of Iowa changed the name of its Elder Affairs Department to the Department of Aging. It goes by the initials IDA, Iowa Department on Aging. Nothing wrong with that. DOA also works. Well, I’m heading towards Idaho. I’m making a quick stop here in Pinedale to check some things on the web and then I’ll be taking rt191 through the Bridger-Teton National Forest. It looks like there are a few forest roads this side of Hoback Junction so I should be able to find a place to camp for a couple days. I want to make a quick stop in Jackson for new casita tires. There are not many miles on them since I’m not into traveling the asphalt but many of the miles have been pretty rough. I don’t think trailer tires are designed for the primitive roads I tend to explore. Every once in a whi

one pot meals, virtual choir, wingin’ it, the winds,
way too many porker carts, an evil god,
and shootin’ the boss

Well, back in the dog days of summer. Know where that phrase came from? It’s the period between early July and early September when Sirius, aka the Dog Star, rises and falls with the sun. Unfortunately, so do the temperatures. Oh well, winter’s coming. A thought on preparing meals—keep it short and simple. I no longer like to cook, let alone spend half an hour or more preparing a meal. I also have my main meal of the day midmorning, after I’m done with giving thanks. Since I get up at 5:00 for most of the year, I’m definitely hungry by 9 or 10:00. The rest of the day I’ll generally just snack. Most of my meals are prepared in one pot. Since I’m generally off the grid, water conservation is always a factor (I still only use 2 gallons a day). I eat a lot of spaghetti, buying different kinds when I can: brown rice, spinach, whole wheat (Bionaturae is great), whatever. As the water heats to a boil and the spaghetti is cooking, I’m mincing one or two jalapenos, cloves of garlic or shreddin