Occupation of Independence

When walking the dog this morning I chanced upon an unusually smooth section of gravel road. (Unlike New Mexico, Idaho puts gravel on its forest roads.) Skinny tracks criss-crossed this road 'all over the place.' It was earthworms. I can't even remember the last time I saw vermicular-Americans crawling out of the ground after a night of rain.  The loveable little app, Pocket Rain Gauge, says we got 0.27" of rain last night! Everybody has read that 'your skin is the largest organ in the human body.' Is it ever! My skin, nails, and hair are going through a resurrection these days. I am wearing a baseball cap! And I used to make fun of them as unmanly, nerdy, ugly, and ineffective. There really are some adjustments to camping with rain, but I am 'up' for the challenge. The most important issue is traction on dirt/gravel roads, or rather, right off of those roads.  It is important to camp by backing away uphill from those roads, thereby making an easy esc

  When most people read the title above they hear, "What is my favorite national park?" Well, there is no accounting for taste.  In fact, national parks are not beautiful at all -- and remember, you read that here! They are merely freakishly big, vertical, or red. "Beautiful" means variety, balance, harmony, and utility: the color green, productive agriculture, soft hills with womanly curves, spirited creeks, barns, wildlife and herds of domestic stock, not many people, and trees. A few rocks are tolerable. And that is what you see in the Palouse of eastern Washington, especially near its border with forest land. Driving through this land on a semi-rainy day, I lusted for a drone to photograph it. The three-dimensionality might get washed out if photographed from the highway. Sunrise or sunset, and partly stormy skies! from openstreetmaps I managed to camp in the national forest near Moscow, ID with my first ATT signal, as a newbie customer. Idaho actually puts gra

It is hard to believe but when  Q.t.𝞹 runs across the lawn, her feet come back soggy. The air feels so medicinal, moist, and gentle compared to that horrible dry air in the south. Water flows in the arroyos around here! I am just loving escaping the desert Southwest. For the rest of my life I will come north in the summer. But let's not oversell the Northwest. By mid-July, temperatures will be Phoenix-like, and you won't even be able to see the forests and mountains with all the forest fire smoke. The forests up here are just fuel bombs waiting for a match. This area has two summers. Early summer is wonderful. Late summer is ghastly.

  It is funny how some geographical features seem interesting despite being less than spectacular, visually. Arroyos in the Southwest are a great example of that. Here in the Northwest, river estuaries are interesting. As the river debouches into a lake, you sometimes get shallow lakes -- almost wetlands. It is a great place for wildlife. I was thinking about that this morning when a moose calmly walked along the shoreline, no more than 50 yards away from me. Q.t. 𝞹 was in the van with me. Finally she saw the moose. Surprisingly her reaction was mild.

  Early in my career as an RVer, I learned to avoid water: too many tourists, noisy boats, music noise, fees, bugs, etc. But I am happy to make an exception to that behavior now. I suppose parents go through things like this, when their child is the right age. Near Lake Coeur d'Alene I tried to look at the water as if I were a former Phoenix street urchin. Just imagine how soft and lush the green grass is, in this area, from her point of view! I wonder what would happen if I rented a canoe and took her out for a paddle? And she saw a moose?!