Occupation of Independence

My camera is still fond of the curved bill thrasher. Here's a photo of curves on curves. But personally my favorite bird is the raven, with its playful flight patterns.

Montrose, CO. From the point of view of the valley, the Uncompahgre Plateau is a ramp that climbs to the west. Looking upward and westward from the valley on these frigid autumn mornings, you can see the Plateau being lit by the sunrise. It warms the Plateau until it becomes pyroclastic, and then it flows back into town. It is the fastest sunrise I've ever seen. It's the time of year for rising and falling, for balloons and festivals. In Montrose,CO, three balloons took advantage of this cold calm morning to practice for the main event in Albuquerque. One of them looked like he was going to crash onto the roof of a forlorn strip mall, being offered by none other than Remax: How fitting and proper it is that the balloon chose to crash onto the real estate company that uses a rising balloon as its symbol of success. Alas, over the last few years real estate has flown a bit too high, like Icarus of Greek myth:

One of the oddities of RV culture is its schizophrenia: it bandies romantic cliches about adventures, dreams, and the freedom of the open road, while it harps on practical matters. Why so? RV wannabees and newbies are so insecure that they can never get enough  'how-to' tips. Commercial blogs target these naifs because they have the greatest number of purchase decisions still to be made. And they believe ads. The same is true of individual RVer's blogs that make the reader's eyes run a gauntlet of google ads. RV clubs think of themselves as being on the side of the rank and file RVer instead of the side of RV manufacturers. This is largely true. Still, RV clubs are in the business of selling memberships and dues. And they too aim their practical tips at wannabees and newbies because it's what makes them cough up the dues. All of this is as it should be. People need to make a living and newbies need advice.   But after a couple years in RV organiz

When people see somebody head off to go full time RVing they probably think that the traveler will settle down in a couple years. (They can only be going through a phase, you know.)  In my case this phase has lasted ten years. But in a metaphorical sense, they were right. There is a place I feel at home at--not a zip code, but a topographic form, a physiographic region. We're roaming free-range again in plateau/mesa/canyon country. Specifically we're in the unpronounceable uncomparable Uncompahgre, west of Montrose, CO. Why should mesas and canyons be one's favorite topography? Perhaps it's the balance and contrast between flatness and sharp declivities, between grassy foregrounds and distant mountains, or the ease of accessibility to an RV and a mountain bike. From our current RV boondocking campsite on a small mesa we can see the San Juan mountains, the Uncompahgre Plateau, and the unmatchable Grand Mesa. After having forests block my foreground

Western Colorado. As much as I love afternoon clouds during the monsoons, autumn rains are completely different. So I fled the upper Gunnison River valley for the torrid lowlands of Montrose (6000 feet) and the Uncompaghre River Valley. But it was stormy down here, too. East of the river there are shale badlands which turn into a quagmire when it rains. I have written before of how much the right book or movie can combine with the right location. With the San Juan Mountains in the background, this seemed like the time to watch "True Grit."  Soon I found a low BLM mesa to camp on, about thirty miles from where much of the mountain scenery of True Grit was shot. At a couple times during the movie, I stepped out of my trailer to admire specific mountains and rocks that were prominent in scenes in the movie. A couple days later another autumn storm blasted the San Juans, as seen from my RV boondocking campsite: The next day they were snow capped. I must ad