Occupation of Independence

I have been struggling to make 'lemonade from the lemons' of Moab. The pressure was made worse by a Utah school holiday coming up. But I'm glad I didn't give-in to defeatism.  Surprisingly good results can come from remembering that 'the early bird gets the worm.' There is a jeep/ATV road that is easy to see from my campsite. It looked quite appealing to mountain bike on. Should I be so foolishly naive as to try? I started a few minutes after sunrise, when it was still chilly. For the first hour and a half, not a single motorized device passed me, despite this trail being well-signed and well-known. Then I popped out on a dirt road and had a nice conversation with a young couple who was taking their niece on a walk. My dog loves children, and vi ce versa . It is not surprising that this worked, but it is that it worked so well, and in Moab! There is probably quite a wind chill factor when 'four wheeling' in an open jeep, ATV, or Texas wheelchair (

What is that crazy dog up to now?! She took off running up a cliff. But I have learned that bizarre behavior on her part is usually due to ravens.  The raven sat right at the top of this strange, ugly geologic feature.  She never learns that the raven will simply fly away before she gets there. On the way down, Coffee Girl seemed to pose for the camera, with a look of contentment in her body language.  It seems that I am content to look at things from her point of view.  Often I run across unpleasant and impractical dogs, and wonder why the owner was so 'stupid' as to choose that dog. But to be fair, it really isn't about stupidity. Didn't the Bard say (more or less) that 'a young man falls in love with his eyes, not with his heart.' The same could be easily said about most people as they choose their pets. I t would be better to choose a dog blindfolded. L ower your hand to its mouth for an eager, but bashful, lick. Fe el its body start wrigglin

Is there something cheerful to think about when you are in Moab, UT? Let's be playful and take it as a challenge. (And no, red rock scenery doesn't count.) So far I am drawing blanks... 1.  And yet look at all the people milling around to wn : they seem pleased to be here. They must be do ing something right. Enjoying Moa b vicario usly see ms like the only approach that might pay off. To fail at this completely is still good news, if it helps me to appreciate novelists and scriptwriters. This could be a big deal to me. Just think how good they must be at putting themselves into other people's 'shoes' in order for their no vel or script to be the least bit interesting! 2. Quite se parate from the angle of vicarious enjoyment, there is a second approach that ties in w ith the book I am reading, by Siedent op. Why did early Christians choose Hope as one of their cardi nal virtu es? I think it is pernicious. It only leads to disappo intment and disillusionment

What do people think of when they first think about intelligent people? Is it somebody with little personality who grinds away at their career all the time? Or is it somebody who appears superficially polite, but actually is snide and supercilious? I'll bet they don't think of the pleasure an intelligent person can give to other people. Let me give you a little anecdote about being on the receiving end of this. But first you must bear the set up. I was in Cortez Colorado, looking to buy a new Utah atlas, either the DeLorme or Benchmark version. This area caters to tourists, and it is the closest small city to the Four Corners. So you would expect it to be easy to buy an atlas for any of the four states. Wrong. I failed to find these atlases in a half dozen places. The frustration was worsened by driving from place to place while pulling my trailer. Towing a trailer is a terrible way to knock off errands in a city. If a sensible person were replacing a hardware or mechan

I started noticing something strange during my couple weeks as a campground host. Quite unrelated to this, a mountain biker dropped by yesterday. We ended up having a conversation unlike any I've had before. Its conclusion probably explains what I was noticing as a campground host. P eople were treating me in a more friendly manner than what I was used to. Had I suddenly become four times better-looking or developed irresistible charm? He mentioned that he avoids talking to people in public situations. He attributed this to his socially-marginal status as a single (heterosexual) male, without a wife, recent girlfriend, or children. He routinely senses hostility from the wives of male buddies. Well, that is easy enough to explain: at the very least, wives don't want their husbands to come under the ba leful influence of unmarried male friends, the sort of irresponsible, self-centered, spoiled clowns who are used to spending their own time and money on exactly w hat th

You would expect something bizarre when you are traveling in the greatest volcanic explosion in Earth's history. Something unearthly. And sure enough, we found it.  Do you think she likes mountain biking? Hard to tell with the stoical expression that dogs always have on their faces. In case you didn't catch it the first time:

Some observations from my campround: 1. It is pleasant to talk to anyone who has some special interest and knowledge. They are rare. One camper was a serious jeeper. He taught me about the "pull-pal," a type of land anchor. It is a steel plow that digs its way into the ground when you pull on it with a winch. Perhaps even a "come-along" hand winch. Then it collapses/folds so that you can store it in your vehicle. Made in Carbondale, CO. 2. Had our first bicyclist from the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route. (Adventure Cycling, Missoula, Montana.) Wish we had more of them. Maybe we aren't on their map. I have to admit that doing nothing but cycling all day and camping in a tent don't really appeal to me as a mode of travel.  Still, their stamina is certainly impressive.  3. One campsite had a large number of kids sitting on rocks, waiting for their meal. They looked so enchanted by the campfire. It would be fun to be invisible and hang out there and wa

When embarking on any new project, the most important precaution is to keep expectations quit e a b it lower than what seems 'fair.' Give the world a chance to surprise you on the upside. This is what I tried to do in the first post on campground hosting. Some of the campers did just that. One fellow -- and I swear he was the one who initiated the topic -- ranted about how much he preferred semi-open land to thick-as-dog-hair forests. What a relief it was to hear somebody more fanatical than me, on that topic! Actually, in five days, I have had more quality conversations than in five years of solitary camping.  The trick is to encourage compliance with the campground rules without becoming officious; to be briefly friendly without being intrusive; and to resist my entrenched habit of steering the conversation in the direction I want, the excuse being that the other person is too much of a blockhead to talk about anything other than 'so where you from?'  I also

What can you say about a camper who sells out to the Establishment, by flushing his principles and ideals down the toilet -- and a vault toilet at that!  Yes, reader, the unthinkable has happened: this old boy has become a campground host. I feel compelled to justify aberrant behavior of this type.  If there is a better way to finish off a life than achieving Moral Perfection, go ahead and tell me what it is. Good ol' Ben (Franklin) would not have approved of this project if it were just a sterile sentimentalism. In order for Moral Perfection to be real and solid, there must be some way of objectifying and validating it.  Otherwise, a person would just fool themselves with feelings that bounce around in the echo chamber of their own skull. One way of validating this project is to look at the effect we have on other people. That is why solitary camping needs to be abandoned. In the tab at the top of the screen, entitled "Summiting: Ideals and Suffering," there are m

I was being foolishly optimistic on a mountain bike ride on the west side of Colorado's San Luis valley, by giving the benefit of the doubt to a trail that was likely to be too rough. At one point we saw a fellow standing and looking at something, as if he were earnestly studying it.  He said he crashed on his bike at that spot, a couple years ago, and had broken a couple ribs. And today, he was out to even the score with this rocky obstacle. He enlisted my help in standing on one side of the rock, with the intention of preventing his fall and crash, this year. His second weapon was a new mountain bike. It looked like it cost over $5000. He succeeded quite easily this year. If fact he did it twice. I kept my mouth shut, that is, I resisted the urge to remonstrate against his foolhardiness.  This man in his sixties had a right to risk his own neck and wallet as he saw fit, without any criticism from me. What interests me is whether it really was his idea. The American mou

I was surprised to enjoy the book, "Martin Eden," by Jack London. After all, it wasn't an adventure about the sea, or about sled dogs and wolves in the Great White North. Rather, it is a semi-autobiographical (yuk!) story about a young man of working class origins who gets it into his head to become a writer. He goes from wild and romantic notions about Truth and Beauty to the sordid reality of being a professional writer. The book can certainly make an amateur blogger of our times appreciate their chance to write publicly, without the miseries of Martin Eden.  As the old saying goes, 'if you want to take the fun out of anything, just try doing it for a living. ' Before the internet era, keeping a diary was perhaps the only outlet for somebody who enjoys writing. And that wasn't public. A mateur bloggers must usually content themsel ves with only a small bit of applause, if they write sincerely. The alt ernative is to write to please the marketplace . Tha