Rolling home

 

– More beautiful rituals on our way home –

 There is a lovely oasis in San Ignacio in the middle of the Baja peninsula. After a long day of driving in the desert heat, it is such a delight to rest there in the shade of the palm trees and wake up next morning at the little lake and see ducks and little song birds and feel the spring.

The 300 years old mission in San Ignacio is quite a sight. Each time when I’m here I sit in this church for a while and reflect on the strange, heavy, and oppressive vibes I seem to pick up here. It all breathes the expression of power, of projected guilt and all the rest of the once so fatefully influential catholic belief system. Considering the extremely rough conditions when it was created, the artwork may be understandably primitive, but I can’t help to find it soulless and loveless.

 Cool and quiet, but gee, I have trouble to breathe here.

 Is one supposed to feel invited and welcome at such an entrance?

 300 years old carpentry! Very impressive indeed!

 

* * *

The magical beach of El Requeson in Bahia Conception.

See our rig in the middle.

For a few days – it’s something like a ritual now –we spend time in our old home Requeson. Impeccable calm weather, peaceful days, nothing to do. We have “lived” here many years.

What do you see when you return to a place? Change. What do you see when you remain at a place? Change. What do you see when you look, really look? Impermanence. Stagnation is a concept that doesn’t exist. Clinging and grasping is what causes suffering. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been here before; I learned this lesson long ago during our wild traveling times. But I learned it also by coming here again and again.

 Gabriela is here again, Parvin taught her some English years ago and gave her some sense how to deal with tourists. It’s quite beautiful to see today how she had actually picked up these messages and runs her business with this place very nicely now. And she has managed to educate her husband and pull him out of a serious drinking problem and at the same time raise three kids quite successfully.

 * * *

And then we move on, cross the border and take refuge in Joshua Tree N.P. – also a ritual by now. First very windy, then paradise as usual. Down in Yucca Valley we can finally buy all the luxurious stuff again and Parvin cooks dinners to die for.

 We put some more miles on our bike here, we ramble around in the rocks.

 We even run into some old friends from Baja – The wild bunch – and show them our playground.

 It’s warm and there is even more spring in the air now.

 * * *

 Then, up 395 along Owens Valley, parading under the glorious white wall of the Sierras  – surely a ritual for a long time now – we get into much rougher climates.

Windy, 60 miles per hour at times, but then calm again and sunny. It is rough but absolutely gorgeous.

 

* * *

There are hot springs, many, and we know the best of them.

It dips down to 20 degrees F in the nights, but it is dry and nothing can beat a long quiet soak in a hot pool early in the morning watching the sun come up.

Sheep Herder pool and the Crab Cooker close by.

Some of these pools need to be mixed it with cold water, otherwise you really get cooked.

 The area is riddled with mysterious underground connections to the hot core of the Earth. In the morning it’s steaming everywhere.

 Most of these springs are just useless mud holes, but some are somewhat improved and ideally prepared for our creature comforts.

 Good old Travertine at Bridgeport has several pools with different temperatures.

* * *

 The weather looks good, so we push on over those 8000 feet passes,

 but one morning, close to Mt. Hood in Oregon, we run out of luck and get stuck in snow. We try it, but it gets really scary. A 200 mile back track and detour solves the problem.

Why did I not buy some chains? Didn’t we run into this often enough?

 * * *

 Well, we made it home one more time, but only to find out that the power company had neglected to reconnect power to our house. It was a weekend, so two more days camping in front of our house. During the day we sit in the house, fortunately the stove doesn’t need power, and we have plenty of firewood.

It’s very, very still. It is so precious, so pure. It’s our house, all is very familiar, but it feels as if everything is sleeping. All the clutter, all those ‘things‘ waiting to be re-animated. It’s wonderful to sit in this stillness, to be present but not engaged yet.

I already went through the mail to look for looming catastrophes; each time there is a ton of mail waiting to be dealt with when we come home. Almost 6 months absence! Even though we have organized this crazy on-and-off life pretty well by now our not-being-available for long periods of time remains a source of little problems.

It could be worse! All could be so much worse!

                                                                                    Klaus  April 5. 2009

This entry was posted in 2008/2009, Winters and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Rolling home

  1. mary hill says:

    Dear Klaus

    I enjoyed seeing your pictures and reading your blog of your trip home. I hope you are happily settled into your northern home.

    We have been resloving our tenant problems and shivering in the cool, grey weather, hoping spring weather will arrive soon.

    I looking forward to reading your musings and of course the wonderful pictures.

    mary

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s