Occupation of Independence

As yet, I haven't been able to convince any of the local cyclists of the charms of Sil-VURK-istan , which is what I call the high desert and grasslands to the south of the Little Pueblo. It really does remind me of photos that I've seen of the Stans of central Asia. I find it refreshing to look across a landscape and see no houses or buildings. Just land and plants, dominated by texture. This isn't an area that explodes with flowers in the spring, following a wet winter. Our plants are cautious; they wait until the end of the monsoon season in September. So I appreciated the flowers that did show themselves on today's ride. These days cellphone towers must be disguised as trees to escape the strictures of the local planning busybodies. Well then, perhaps RV parks should require the nearly-universal TV dish to be disguised. What's this? Somebody's already thought of that. As usual, most flowers grow right alongside the road. Blogger seems to be having pro

North of Gunnison, CO. My little poodle and I hiked up the small "mountain" behind the camper. There was no real trail. We kept traversing the slope so it wouldn't be too steep. Eventually we found a game trail to follow. Then we'd lose it, or at least, it seemed so. This became a game, far more interesting than following a real hiking trail. We found a large spherical mushroom, with a crack. It made me thick of that scene in "Jurassic Park" when they watch the dinosaur egg hatching. The little "mountain" was not tall and we were soon at the top. It proved to be quite flat on top--maybe just a little tipped or domed. Geologists would call this a "laccolith," formed by igneous material intercalating sedimentary stratifications, followed by...you can see why reading geology books is about as much fun as conjugating verbs in Latin. What the geologists would say if someone taught them English is that hot lava under pressure squ

If a normal RV camper asks an RV boondocker, Why? The answer might be: The usual answers about crowding, high prices, unneeded facilities, highway noise, etc., are all true, but something is still missing. But let's reverse the perspective: what do non -boondockers think of boondockers? They are probably too polite to say what they really think: that we are half-destitute low-lifes, loners, Thoreau wannabees, etc. Heck I even feel that way sometimes--especially when camping close to half-crazed desert rats, or old guys in the forest who wear camo. A recent comment from a reader got me thinking along a certain line that perhaps leads to the real reason for RV boondocking. Someone, perhaps Chesterton, once said that an adventure is nothing more than an inconvenience rightly considered. By 'rightly' he meant romanticized. There are RVers who think that the conventional RV lifestyle is fine, as far as it goes, but it is too tame and antiseptic.  In order t

Lighthouses in a landlocked state? Well yes, if you look at it right. I'm probably not the only one who sometimes dawdles or procrastinates when they arrive in a new town. Sometimes there are so many choices, and they seem like such big projects, that you do nothing. That's why it helps to work for a dog. They have more sense than we do sometimes. They just want to get out there, and without thinking about it too hard.    So we hike to the first cell tower or radio antenna site. These are more than the source of cellphone and wireless internet signals; they are navigational aids to the entire lifestyle of an RV boondocker. They are to me what an old-fashioned lighthouse was to a seamen. They don't look like each other, exactly, but they have other similarities. Both are tall edifices that stand out and emit powerful signals of electromagnetic radiation. The main difference between their respective "lights" is the wavelength, which is a million times longer

If you follow the financial news you hear a lot about liquidity crises. I've always had my own form of "liquidity" crisis: an inability to connect with water, despite consistent success in having great experiences with outdoor life, in general. All summer I've noticed how special it was to see the little dog walk down to the stream behind our RV boondocking site and drink from it. It has been years since he had a chance to do that. Just think!--liquid water, actually running--not just a dry wash or arroyo! How exotic! After wearying of just looking at the mountain stream next to camp, near Silverton CO, the frustration boiled over one day. I put on a pair of old shoes and took my little poodle out to the mountain stream; we waded out into the foot-deep river. He is no Labrador retriever and doesn't really care for water, but it was a warm afternoon and he seemed to enjoy it. It's been years since I touched the water myself, except for taking a s

Clearly, the San Juans are Colorado's best eye candy, in the usual postcard sense. The San Juans are newer than the other ranges and are volcanic, rather than folded or fault block ranges. Here was our first route in the San Juans: Stratified sedimentary layers I'm used to--but a green layer? How could a wind-blown seed find purchase on a slope like this? A motorist stopped when he saw my little dog in the BOB trailer behind the mountain bike. He was a serious amateur photographer and was studied up on nature. He thought the seeds would have been dropped by birds into the cracks or holes that even a steep slope must have. Probably so, but how did these plants or bushes propagate up there? We finished our ride and returned to find a Silverton couple saddling up two llamas, for an overnight trek up to an alpine lake.    They are members of the camel family, but don't have humps. Their hooves are more like a hard pad, with two-toes and funny toe nails.

Now that I finally knew the route to the old Bunk House (or Boarding House) on the cliff at the 12,000 foot mine, it was time to do it ! I drove up a road that was really meant for ATVs or small jeeps, but the odds were pretty good that I wouldn't pass any other motor vehicles. Vacationers don't like early starts or dead end roads, and Labor Day was over. Maybe this is why they invented ATVs and Jeep Wranglers! I parked below treeline in order to enjoy hiking through it and into the open. We hiked the narrow footpath that presumably was used to build the tramway that sent ore down from the mine, and supplies and men up to the Bunk House. It was no mystery how miners chose a spot to start digging: they looked for quartz veins at the surface. Gold dissolves in quartz at high temperature. Indeed you can still see such quartz veins. This was the steepest face we have hiked on, this summer. My little dog enjoys scaring me by scampering by me, on the outside of cou

Labor Day weekend in Silverton, CO. There is always some excitement in the middle of the day in Silverton, when the tourist train arrives from Durango, and disgorges the suckers and marks. The economy of the town depends on them. I've come to appreciate this daily ritual. But part of the credit for the festive mood this weekend must go to the Harley riders. Even if you dislike their hobby -- and I do -- they really do bring a sense of visceral excitement to town, like a Biblical plague of flying insect pests. Do Harley people really deserve the disdain they so often get? Sure, most of us hate their noise and other features like...how shall I say it... their over-studied affectation of a commercially-prepackaged faux rebelliousness. But to their credit, they've found a partial remedy for the pathological over-earnestness of middle-age, and the joylessness of old age. What is so bad about a matron feeling like a hot young chick in her over-priced leather fashions?

Reading an email from a friend and fellow blogger, I got fired up. He complimented me on editing some of my old posts. In part I am doing that because they will be obliterated when I drop the old blog hosting service in mid-June. Since the old and new sites won't easily switch the old posts to the new, I must use brute force, which in fact is fun. But I was worried about alienating readers. Would they think it was cheating to recycle old stuff? Actually, some probably do, but so what? Why do amateur bloggers like me think they need to be popular? Why do we think it's our job to give readers a free morning newspaper to read, full of Breaking News? A blogger should write for his own benefit, mostly.

Today's ride was in a "gulch." That's an ignominious name for a beautiful U-shaped box canyon/valley, scooped out by glaciers. This little house on the prairie was cute, especially the broom. It was parked by a corral with horses. This little trailer was meant to be a repositionable cottage or boarding house, not an RV, but for whom? If only a Basque shepherd or vaquero would have stepped out of it. Soon we came to the high end of the "gulch", and saw large waterfalls. The dirt road devolved into foot trails that climbed over the top of the surrounding, U-shaped massif. On the return trip I stopped to chat with a fly fisherman, a likable guy, but I usually like fly fishermen. Close to the Continental Divide the streams are only a foot deep, and are fast. A fish must be desperate to make a living if it swims in this stream all day. Once again I toyed with the possibility of taking up fly fishing, but wasn't sure why. It ce

Silverton, CO. Since I am camping close to a small mountain river, and since it looks like the front cover of a glossy RV magazine extolling the RV Dream, there were other campers nearby. What an odd feeling. Initially it seemed like a luxury to have people to chat with. But then I started noticing and recalling how narrow the RV demographic is. I refrained from taking one of these  RV dream-sites, in part so that those whose really wanted one could get it. But the selfish motivation was that I dislike camping close to others. One night, one of the blockheads was running a generator the entire night, probably to run an electric heater. It's only late August but it has frosted here already.  It is amazing how tourists and campers are drawn to water, despite the fact that most of them don't do anything in the water besides sit there and look at it. Having to choose between lakes and rivers I prefer the rivers. They seem more alive. Once I camped with ot